Ringside Reflections

By Matthew Hurley

The inevitability of what was to come hung in the air but the crowd at the outdoor arena at Caesars Palace seemed as dazed as to what was happening as Duran. Hearns, now oozing confidence, approached center ring and again touched gloves with Duran. It would be the last civil thing he did.

Gliding around the ring and looking like a demented, black vampire with his goatee and Jeri curls, the Hit Man, he had reassumed the moniker for the fight, went in for the kill. Pushing Duran backwards he leapt in and clobbered the cowering fighter with a vicious right hand that staggered Duran back into the ropes again. Hearns bounced backwards and then jumped in again with another vicious right hand and began pummeling his prey with a series of punches that kept Duran standing straight up. Roberto tried to move off the ropes, so Hearns lured him out and then pushed him back with two probing left jabs to the chest before dropping the coup de grace.

The final right hand that crashed over Durans guard was so brutal, the impact twisted his head to the side and sucked all the air out of the arena. A collective gasp went up as Roberto Duran fell face forward to the canvas.

There would be no count. Durans corner men jumped into the ring as Hearns leapt onto the shoulders of his handlers. It was the most dramatic knockout of Thomas Hearns career and upped the ante for his potential challenge of Marvelous Marvin Hagler for the middleweight championship. Hearns would fight one more bout before that showdown, a three round blast out of contender Fred Hutchings, but he would never again be so brilliantly devastating.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479754939

Matthew Hurley

Matthew Hurley has been writing about boxing for twelve years. His articles have appeared in Boxing Digest Magazine, Fox Sports, East Side Boxing, Ring Talk and Max Boxing. He is a full time member of the Boxing Writers Association Of America and a voting member for the International Boxing Hall Of Fame. He currently writes for Secondsout.com. He lives in Quincy, Massachusetts.

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Copyright © 2012 by Matthew Hurley.

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CONTENTS

Introduction

PART I

PROTECT YOURSELF AT ALL TIMES

Hagler versus Hearns: The Fight

Bernard Hopkins—An American Success Story

The Shaky Legacy of Lennox Lewis

Meldrick Taylor—Two Seconds in Time

Margarito’s Situation Brings Back Bad Memories

Upsets Always in the Offing

The Greatest Knockout of the Last Thirty Years

De La Hoya Scopes Out Opponents for 2008

Has De La Hoya’s Shtick Gotten Old?

De La Hoya—Pacquiao: A Superfight in Question

Juan Manuel Marquez—Ready for Diaz but Still Seeking Pacquiao

In Demand: Mayweather-Pacquiao

PART II

SECONDS OUT

A Vote for Donald Curry

Shane Mosley—It’s Been a Bumpy, Thrilling Ride

Shane Mosley Finally Gets His Superfight

Mosley Ignores Underdog Tag

Thomas Hearns—a Hall of Fame Career

Hatton versus Malignaggi—Does the Hitman Have Any Ammunition Left?

Thomas Hearns—An All Too Familiar Story

Countdown to Hatton-Pacquiao

Pacquiao Crushes Hatton in Two

Bob Arum and Freddie Roach Attempt to Refocus Manny Pacquiao

The Ongoing Heavyweight Mess

David Haye—This Generation’s Evander Holyfield?

Ortiz Faces Questions After Thrilling Slugfest

PART III

TEN COUNT

George Kimball—An Appreciation

Looking Back at Paul Pender

July—The Month from Hell

Alexis Arguello—A Champion In and Out of the Ring

Looking Back at Edwin Rosario

PART IV

HOOKS AND JABS

A Round of Applause for Jermain Taylor

Victor Ortiz Comes Full Circle

Cotto and Pacquiao Gear Up for the Fight of the Year

Not Knowing When to Quit

Morales Leaves Us Breathless

Fights of the Decade: Morales-Pacquiao I

Williams-Martinez: Bad Judge, Good Fight

Donaire Continues Lighter-Weight Tradition

Bernard Hopkins Continues to Add to His Legacy

Foreman’s Courage Serves Him Well

A Boxing Scribe’s Night with the UFC

Meet Danny O’Connor

Pacquiao versus Marquez IV—Overkill?

Recommendations

Acknowledgments

To my parents,

Elizabeth and William,

for their love, support, and encouragement.

INTRODUCTION

The first professional boxing match I saw was the rematch between Muhammad Ali and Leon Spinks in 1978. Ali had become one of those mythic figures in my life along with Elvis Presley and the Beatles. It didn’t matter that he was well past his prime, a prime I never saw but only heard about. He had that certain inexplicable charisma that set him apart from mere mortals.

Ali’s subsequent beating at the hands of champion Larry Holmes in 1980 humanized him, but it did so at a terrible price. Although his physical and mental decline was rapidly becoming apparent to all but the blindest of sycophants in his inner circle, it was the debacle against Holmes that opened up everyone’s eyes and signaled the end of an era in boxing.

Fortunately, along came a mini-Ali in the form of a young welterweight named Ray Leonard, who had the effrontery to adopt the Sugar moniker bequeathed on the great Ray Robinson and then backed it up in the ring. Along with Leonard, a group of great fighters revolved around him to coat the 1980s boxing scene in gold. Thomas Hearns, Marvelous Marvin Hagler, Roberto Duran, Aaron Pryor, Wilfredo Benitez, Alexis Arguello, Salvador Sanchez, Michael Spinks, and the aforementioned Larry Holmes kept boxing at the forefront of the sports world. And as that era faded, another always seemed to be waiting in the wings to take a bow.

Mike Tyson, Julio Cesar Chavez, Pernell Whitaker, Evander Holyfield.

Oscar De La Hoya, Felix Trinidad, Roy Jones, James Toney, Riddick Bowe.

Bernard Hopkins, Lennox Lewis, Joe Calzaghe, Floyd Mayweather.

Erik Morales, Marco Antonio Barrera, Juan Manuel Marquez, Manny Pacquiao.

Even when boxing dips in quality or is challenged by an upstart contact sport like the UFC, it always bounces back at some point behind some burgeoning star with a compelling backstory. Manny Pacquiao of the Philippines became just that fighter in recent years. The excitement he generates in the ring crossed over into a rare mainstream appeal unusual for a boxer not named Tyson or De La Hoya.

His fiercest rival, Floyd Mayweather, also achieved unprecedented heights with his defensive wizardry between the ropes, but it is his antics outside the ring, his bad-boy persona, that he marketed brilliantly into millions of dollars—that is truly his calling card. For as the years have gone by, Mayweather has left Pacquiao at the superfight altar and has left boxing fans shaking their heads in bewilderment as to why a fight that could be the richest in history continues to fade away.

But that’s boxing. As thrilling as it can be, it remains forever inscrutable.

So why do we, the fans, keep coming back? Is boxing just that unending relationship we know is bad for us but always leaves us wanting more? Or is boxing, with all its virtues slamming up against its vices, a reflection of us? As has often been said of boxing, it is as beautiful as it is barbaric.

Of course it’s more than that. Boxing is more than a sport, more than just two people beating each other up. Boxing is an art and, at its highest level, is a ballet of athleticism.

The sad stories that accompany many of those souls brave enough to climb through the ropes are also part of our collective narrative as well. It’s easy to root for an underdog, particularly one stripped nearly bare and left alone to defend himself in front of an unforgiving, often-bloodthirsty crowd.

And for every emotionally draining story outside the ring, there results a physical struggle within that will, in the end, define character and determination. It’s that inability to hide from the opponent or oneself once the bell rings that separates boxing from any other sport. There is that odd vulnerability linked up so tightly with brutality that can be jarring when a boxer gets hurt. It’s in those desperate moments when a boxer reveals himself and his importance, and we, as fans, embrace him, flaws and all.

Matthew Hurley

2012

PART I

Protect Yourself at All Times

HAGLER VERSUS HEARNS:

THE FIGHT

It’s almost hard to believe that it’s been over twenty-five years since Marvelous Marvin Hagler and Thomas Hitman Hearns stepped into the ring at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas and waged war on one another. Their epic battle redefined boxing for a new generation of fans.

Boxing had survived the end of Muhammad Ali’s career because a crop of brilliant young fighters burst in to the scene and forced the public to look down at the lighter weight ranks while the heavyweight division slowly redefined itself until the emergence of Mike Tyson.

Suddenly it was the lightweights and, particularly, the welterweights who dominated the sport. It was out of the 147-pound class that Thomas Hearns appeared from out of Detroit, Michigan. A devastating right-hand puncher with a pure boxer’s grace, Hearns tore through opponents with a surgical precision. One loss, in his first superfight against fellow welterweight champion Sugar Ray Leonard, only seemed to fuel his desire to achieve the position of boxing’s number one star. And when Leonard refused him a rematch and then abruptly retired due to a detached retina, Hearns saw little recourse other than to move up in weight and challenge the only other fighter standing in his way.

But Marvin Hagler, the middleweight champion who had his name legally changed to Marvelous, was having none of it. The blue-collar fighter out of Brockton, Massachusetts, let his fists do his talking for him in the ring, but privately, he seethed as his welterweight counterparts commanded the public’s attention and those big paydays he dreamed about while working construction as an up-and-coming fighter. His anger would be unleashed on April 15, 1985, at the quick clang of a bell.

The hype surrounding a big fight often overshadows the event itself. When expectations are so high, disappointment is almost inevitable. In the case of Hagler and Hearns, it’s strange that not much is remembered about the prefight buildup. Despite the fact that both were in their primes and deemed to be the best in the business, neither man was much of a talker, so the fight seemed to simmer rather than come to a scalding boil.

There were the intense stare-downs—these guys did not like each other after having to spend time together during promotional duties—and there was Hagler’s rather chilling mantra of destruction and destroy, but it really wasn’t until the two fighters made their ring walk that the fifteen thousand plus at Caesars and those watching on closed-circuit televisions felt that tension that something special was going to happen. Both fighters looked as though they were prepared to sacrifice anything for the greater glory—Hearns in his gold Kronk Gym trunks, chiseled facade, and goatee, and Hagler, in regal blue, pounding his bald head with his gloved fists as he waited to get at his man.

The buildup for the fight had actually started in 1982. With the retirement of Leonard, Hearns became Hagler’s most likely big-name opponent. But injuries, bad timing, and an initial promotion that dropped the fight in Windsor, Ontario, killed the promotion.

On a more practical note, Tommy was only just coming off his emotionally draining loss to Leonard and was just getting used to the 154-pound division, and he was not looking like the Hitman of old. In fact, he had reverted to a jab-and-dance man, beating Wilfred Benitez for the WBC title over fifteen mostly sedate rounds.

Meanwhile, Hagler bullied his way through several defenses of his precious title with methodical, workmanlike expertise. As good as he was and in the retrospective glow of his fight with Hearns, it’s hard to believe Hagler was not a huge draw in the sport—marketable, yes, but a superstar, no.

It was in 1984 that everything changed, and the potential showdown became the most talked-about fight to be made. In two brutal rounds, Hearns destroyed Roberto Duran in what should have been a unification matchup for the junior middleweight title. Duran had been stripped of his WBA belt, so the fight was only for Hearns’s WBC strap.

In one amazing performance of unbridled power and shocking violence, Tommy knocked Duran unconscious and set up the fight with Hagler at 160 pounds. An interim three-round knockout of contender Fred Hutchings furthered Hearns’s cause, and suddenly boxing was all about Hagler versus Hearns. And yet because of the quiet demeanor of both fighters and their inability to feel comfortable in front of the press, it built slowly into a superfight on the basis of the boxers’ abilities and accomplishments. It was a promotion without personalities.

Whom you liked going in was summed up perfectly by HBO broadcaster Larry Merchant, who opined, Hagler is the strongest fighter Hearns has ever fought. Hearns is the best fighter Hagler has ever fought. We’re here to get the answers. The Vegas odds agreed, and the numbers vacillated until fight time when Hagler-Hearns was a pick-’em affair.

As Hagler loosened up in his dressing room, Tommy’s entourage, in the next room, banged on the walls, chanting, Hitman, Hitman…

Hagler, focused, began to bob and weave, repeating over and over, Destruction and destroy…

The banging on the walls and the cheers of Tommy’s overflowing team of friends and followers were unrelenting. According to a member of Hagler’s camp, the champion shook his head and said, He can’t take them in there with him. It’s just me and him.

As he continued to warm up, sweat glistening his bald pate, the hushed tones of destruction and destroy became more ominous.

Back in Hearns’s dressing room, the Hitman danced back and forth, his followers chanting his name and pumping their fists in the air. His trainer, Emanuel Steward, looked on with concern as a member of Tommy’s crew rubbed his muscled chest with baby oil.

I was nervous, Steward said later. Before we went to the dressing room, one of the hangers-on had rubbed Tommy’s legs down. A massage leaves the body spent, and Tommy’s legs began giving out on him even before we made the walk to the ring. I was nervous.

On the other hand, Hearns thought nothing of it at the time. Such was his belief in his power that he truly felt he would knock out Hagler early. My whole plan was to take the fight to him, he said. I was going to knock him out in three. There was no doubt in my mind.

And then the bell rang.

Everything stopped, for just a moment, before all hell broke loose.

A wicked, straight right hand from Hearns buckled Hagler’s knees as Tommy backed into the ropes. Sensing his moment, Hearns flailed away with both hands until they became a red blur.

Hagler tied his challenger up, weathered the storm, and then fired back.

And it went on… and on… and on. The two best fighters in the world threw caution to the wind and wailed away on one another with reckless abandon. When the round ended, both fighters glared at each other as the crowd at Caesars Palace, stunned by what they had just witnessed, exploded into applause usually reserved for rock stars. Many reporters later commented they had trouble articulating the violence they had just witnessed. But HBO announcer Barry Tompkins captured the moment when he barked into his microphone, This may be the most brutal, even round you’ve ever seen in boxing.

For the most part, those three minutes decided the outcome of the fight. Hearns hurt and cut Hagler, but he didn’t knock him out. Not only that, he broke his right hand on Hagler’s seemingly impervious dome. Without his best weapon and with his legs feeling like rubber, he was lost, and Hagler just kept coming.

When I think of the shape he was in after that first round, recollects Steward, and to think, with his legs all fucked up and his right hand broke, the courage he showed was unbelievable.

Hagler, bloodied but unbowed, continued pursuit of his wounded prey. He clubbed Hearns with overhand rights and a few well-placed low blows. But a deepening cut on his forehead would add yet another dimension of tension to a fight already climbing up the ladder of all-time-great status.

As the blood flowed down his face, referee Richard Steele called a time-out for the doctor to check on the laceration’s severity.

The ringside physician took a look and then said, It’s not bothering his sight… Let him go.

Wiping the blood from his brow, and knowing that his time was running out to end matters, Hagler charged after Hearns and took him out with a lunging right hook that caught Tommy behind the ear. He followed up with a final, leaping right cross to the cheek, and Hearns inexorably toppled to the canvas. Somehow, from somewhere deep in his warrior’s heart, the stricken fighter struggled to his feet, but there was no fight left in him. Richard Steele waved the bout to a halt, and Hearns, his arms hanging limp at his side, fell into the referee’s protective embrace. The greatest bout of the decade was over at 2:01 of the third round.

On another microphone, for another cable feed, broadcaster Al Michaels said, It didn’t go very long, but it was a beauty.

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