BOXING - Where are they now? - Boxers in Retirement.

Was sreaching Google to see if there was a book on Stevenson and stumbled on this recent article from our own ESB site:


“What is one million dollars compared to the love of eight million Cubans?”

by John Wight - ESB - 7th August 2010

These were the words of the legendary Cuban heavyweight, Teofilo Stevenson, in response to a lucrative multimillion dollar offer to turn pro and fight Mohammad Ali after the Montreal Olympics in 1976. They remain as powerful a testament to the nature and character of the Cuban Revolution today as they did when spoken over 30 years ago.

Today the word legend is bandied around so often in sport it has almost been rendered devoid of meaning. This isn’t the case, however, when it comes to describing Teofilo Stevenson, a man who dominated world amateur boxing over a career that spanned fourteen years and three Olympic Games, returning on each occasion with a Gold Medal to make him one of only three boxers to achieve this remarkable feat - one of whom happens to be fellow Cuban Felix Savon.

To add to his haul of three Olympic golds, Stevenson also won three World Amateur Boxing Championship gold medals and a further two golds at the Pan American Games, before announcing his retirement in 1986 at the age of 34.

Born in 1952 and brought up in Cuba’s fourth largest city, Camaguey, the son of immigrant parents, Teofilo’s destiny seemed all but mapped out. His father had been a boxer, fighting seven times before retiring in dismay at the corruption that was endemic in the sport in its pre-revolutionary era, and had endowed his son with the physical attributes required to succeed in the same sport. Indeed, developing an early love of boxing, it wasn’t long before a prepubescent Teofilo was making regular trips to the open air gym where his father had trained, though without his mother’s knowledge.

There he was taken under the wing of former Cuban light heavyweight champion, John Herrera, who after matching him against a series of far more experienced opponents knew that the young Teofilo had what it took to go all the way.

During the mid sixties, Teofilo’s development under Herrera progressed rapidly after winning a junior title and then coming to the attention of Cuba’s newly created state sponsored boxing school, during a stint spent training in Havana. Headed by former Soviet boxer, Andrei Chervnevenko, the school would mark the beginning of Cuba’s outstanding achievements in the sport, earning Cuban boxing the world renowned status it enjoys to the present today.

When the 20 year old Teofilo stepped into the ring to mark his Olympic debut at the 1972 games in Munich, Cuba hadn’t won an Olympic gold medal since 1904 - and that had come in fencing. By 1972 the Olympic heavyweight boxing gold medal was felt by the US to be their property as if by right. Joe Frazier had taken the gold at the 1964 games in Tokyo and George Foreman did likewise at the 1968 games in Mexico City (Ali’s gold medal at the 1960 games in Rome had come in the light heavyweight division).

The US heavyweight representative at the Munich games was Duane Bobick, considered the favourite after taking the gold medal at the Pan-American Games in 1971, during which he handed the still developing Stevenson a rare defeat.

The stage was set for a rematch when they were drawn in the third round of the Munich Olympics a year later. At 6’3” tall, and weighing in at 215lbs, Bobick looked every bit as physically impressive as his Cuban opponent. Known as a hard puncher, and a man who spent countless hours in the gym, Bobick had arrived at the Olympics having defeated future heavyweight professional champion, Larry Holmes, to win the right to do so as the US amateur champion. Given his prior victories over Teofilo and Larry Holmes, it was therefore no surprise that Bobick was expected to come away with yet another US heavyweight Olympic gold.

The fight lasted three rounds, and was to be one of the most brutal of Stevenson’s career. After a closely fought first round, Bobick took the second fighting on the front foot, managing to pin Stevenson back against the ropes, where he attacked him with ripping body shots and vicious hooks and right hands. However, Stevenson’s strategy of allowing his opponent to punch himself out paid off, as by the end of the second Bobick had nothing left in the tank while Stevenson was still breathing normally.

In the third and final round, the Cuban handed his more prestigious US opponent a boxing lesson he and the world watching would not forget. Utilising a punishing array of jabs and overhand rights, Stevenson proceeded to punch Bobick all over the ring. Such was his dominance in the third that Harry Carpenter, commentating on the fight for the BBC, excitedly described the action as ‘the legend of Bobick absolutely being destroyed here!’

The fight ended after Stevenson had his opponent down on the canvas three times and the referee stepped in to stop what by now was one way traffic, earning Stevenson, and Cuba, a famous Olympic victory.

Describing the Cuban’s emphatic victory over his US opponent in his book ‘The Red Corner – A Journey Into Cuban Boxing’, in words that could also be a metaphor for the Cuban Revolution itself, the author John Duncan writes: ‘It was a beautiful moment for Cuban sport, one in which you could sense a whole century of inferiority complexes melting away.’

Predictably, Stevenson again swept all before him at the Montreal Olympics of 1976 to claim his second gold medal. Once again he faced a US opponent, this time in the shape of John Tate in the semi final, and comfortably dispatched him with a first round knock out. The US team boycotted the 1980 games in Moscow in protest at the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan, but there’s little doubt that with his continuing dominance of the sport Teofilo Stevenson would still have claimed his third Olympic gold even if the US team had taken part.

In fact, most commentators agree that the Cuban was only robbed of a fourth gold medal when Cuba boycotted the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984, along with the rest of the Communist bloc countries, in retaliation for the prior US boycott of the Moscow games. However, rather than bemoan another opportunity for glory, Stevenson announced his support for the boycott, describing it as an ‘act of solidarity.’

Today, Teofilo maintains his passion for boxing in his role as vice president of the Cuban Boxing Federation. In 1999, as coach of the Cuban national boxing team, he was involved in an altercation at Miami International Airport on the way home with the Cuban team from an international tournament. Stevenson retaliated after he and the rest of the team were subjected to insults and verbal abuse from anti-Cuban protesters. He was arrested, released on bail, and immediately returned to Cuba. He later refused to return to Miami for the resulting court proceedings.

A bona fide boxing legend, Teofilo Stevenson also stands out as a man of immense pride and dignity, reflected in his refusal to enrich himself when offered the opportunity.

In a sport typified by greed, his is a legacy guaranteed to endure. ​

 

The population of Cuba's probably grown by 50% too.

 

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With Friends Like These, Who Needs Sugar Ray?

Marvelous Marvin Hagler has found contentment as, of all things, an actor in Italy


by Rick Telander - Sports Illustrated Vault - 1990 (okay it's not so recent)


Marvelous Marvin Hagler is an actor living in Milan, Italy. Right, you say, and I'm the Duke of Earl.

But here is Hagler, the boxing barbarian whose T-shirts used to read DESTRUCT AND DESTROY, now subdued and dignified, drinking mineral water at the sedate, book-lined London Bar in the Hilton Hotel in Milan's business district, discussing his new life, his new direction, his new avocation.

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He has been in Milan for almost a year now and has two action movies, Indio (now available in the U.S. on video-cassette) and Indio 2, under his belt. A third film, Nights of Fear, is set to go into production in the Soviet Union in September. At 36, Hagler is leading a quiet life away from booze, domestic trauma, the sweet science, rumors and, most of all, away from Sugar Ray Leonard.

You may have lost track of Hagler, but if you're a fight fan you must remember April 6, 1987. That was the night Hagler had his undisputed middleweight crown snatched from him by Leonard on a 12-round split decision that sucked the life-blood from the shaved-headed terror, turning one of the world's most savage fighters into a lost dog.

Everybody said that Hagler needed boxing to remain sane, that he needed to be the champion of the world in order to keep his demons at bay and to sate his immense pride. Now he had lost his title of nearly seven years, the one he had defended a dozen times, to a dancing, back-pedaling little pretty-boy—a con artist, hardly a man at all, by Hagler's standards.

Leonard had never hurt Hagler, and hurting was what Hagler's game was about. Sugar Ray had skittered around and punched in harmless flurries, while an enraged, cursing Hagler had stalked and thrown one blow at a time at an elusive target. Two of the judges went for the flurries. Hagler was stunned at the decision. "He never hurt me," he said after the fight, again and again. But what was he going to do about it? What could he do now? There would be no return match. Leonard sure didn't need him. Who needs a wounded beast?

"Where does he go now?" Leonard asked after the bout. "I feel sad for him. I really do."

Indeed, Hagler went off the deep end for a while. He drank heavily—there were reports in the Boston press that he used cocaine, which he denied—and watched his marriage end and began sinking like a rudderless ship in high seas. But then, slowly, Hagler righted himself.

He didn't return to the ring, but he got his life together, pursuing some business ventures, some commercials, some endorsements, some charity stuff. He and his wife, Bertha, are divorced, but they have made peace with each other. He tried to explain his needs to his five kids. Then he split to Italy, alone, to become an actor. That's how people lost track of him.

But now, suddenly, it is the pretty-boy who needs the killer for one more battle. The 34-year-old Leonard wants to fight Hagler again and then re-retire. Leonard wants everything to be clean, untainted by a split decision that has begun to haunt him, too. And, of course, Leonard wants the money that such a rematch would bring. Promoter Bob Arum has offered Hagler a minimum of $15 million for a re-turn bout, and Hagler's trainers, Goody and Pat Petronelli of Brockton, Mass., think he should take it.

Hagler came back to the U.S. in early June to attend his daughter Celeste's high school graduation, and he talked to the Petronellis during his stay. The threesome goes way back, back to when Hagler first arrived in Brockton from Newark after the 1969 riots in the New Jersey port city and walked into the Petronellis' gym as a mean, tough, raw 15-year-old ready to beat people up.

The Petronellis are almost kin to Hagler now. What's their cut if Hagler were to take the fight? "A third," says Pat. "Hey, what can we say? We want it more than anything. But there's respect here. I said to Marvin, 'If you want it, it's there. Think about it.' He said something amazing: 'God, I wanted to beat him so bad—you know that, Pat. But now, for the first time in my life, I'm happy with myself. I'm retired.' "

Now as he walks down a sidewalk in Milan, Hagler has an almost beatific glow about him. Somehow, though, it doesn't quite compute. There is the 5'9�" body that is all shoulders, arms and fists, and, of course, that menacing, shining head that he still shaves daily. "My stand-in during the last movie had to shave his head, too, and he asked me how I get mine so smooth, with no bumps," says Hagler. "But it took years to learn the secret, and I didn't tell him."

Hagler laughs. His dark face is a mixture of statements. His eyes are placid, but his brow is furrowed. And there are those scars that reveal his former craft. Four of the stitches on his forehead came from the legendary Tommy Hearns brawl in 1985, the first round of which was perhaps the most brutal slugfest ever to start a title bout. "Hit Man, my ass," Hagler said before he beat Hearns into submission. The five stitches above his right eye came from Mustafa Hamsho in 1981; Hamsho himself needed 55 stitches. But now Hagler is a mellow man.

 

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"I considered the $15 million, but it didn't come close to changing my mind," he says. "Financially, I'm in good shape. My health is good, my brain is good. One more fight and you never know what might happen. I'm not going to win an Oscar, but I'm getting better. In five years maybe I could be a world-known actor."

But this is Ray Leonard, your nemesis, the man who stole your crown, the man who will lurk beside you forever because he outfoxed you. Like Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, you two are forever associated, movie career or not.

"A while ago, yeah, I wanted him so bad," says Hagler evenly. "But I'm over that. And the problems I had after the fight had nothing to do with Leonard. I was drinking a lot—I wasn't using cocaine—but it was because my wife and I were having problems, not the Leonard situation. Basically, I was just drinking with a lot of other men with the same problems. Plus, I was doing some things I hadn't been able to do in 17 years of training, taking some of the fruits of my labor. I realized I was hurting myself, and I snapped out of it. But it had to take time. You have to like yourself. I like me now. I love me. I think I'm a very nice guy carrying himself well."

He is as pleasant an ex-fighter as anyone could hope to meet, always writing more than just his name when fans ask for his autograph, opening doors for everybody, paying attention to the people around him. It's nice that he has gone through what might have been an early mid-life crisis and come out in good shape. Still, he is a fighter. And fighters fight. Even old ones, like George Foreman. Hagler doesn't like that, though. "I think he's setting a bad example," he says.

Hagler laughs again. "I'm laughing at Leonard," he says. "I used to be the old man, but now look at him—he's getting old. What goes around, comes around."

It does, and it is ironic now that Hagler can most readily punish Leonard by not fighting him. "People saw that fight," says Pat Petronelli. "They have to be saying, 'Give Hagler another chance.' Ray's a proud guy, and he wants to clear the air."

But if Hagler is really through as a fighter, why was he pounding a heavy bag in Manila last month during the filming of Indio 2? Why is he in rock-hard shape at 168 pounds, right where he should be before razoring down to a middleweight's 160?

"I was working out in the Philippines because Sergeant Iron has to be very strong," he replies. "That's my character. When my body's in top shape, my mind is, too. And the only way I know to get in shape is doing my regular routine. A fighter's routine."

Hagler explains that his movie characters see a lot of heavy action and that he has to pull punches in most of his scenes, something he has never done. "For a fighter, that's bad," he says. "If you do it outside the ring, you'll do it inside."

But when Petronelli recently asked him if he could still fight, Hagler said simply, "Yes."

But Hagler is retired now—for whatever that's worth. Leonard has retired twice himself.

"If I didn't understand what happened in that fight, then it would bother me," Hagler says. "But I understand they took the fight from me. I don't know if they paid anybody off, but I beat Leonard. I look at the film and think, 'What are these people talking about?' I almost had him out in the ninth, but the bell saved him. Hearns had him out twice, but didn't finish him. Hearns has never been the same since I finished him. None of my fighters are ever the same. And Leonard is not the same, either."

Hagler was conservative with the roughly $40 million in purses he earned. In Milan he lives in a two-bedroom apartment and gets by, he says, on "$10,000 a month for everything." He is embarrassed by the sad financial state in which so many former fighters have found themselves. "I saw Joe Louis at the door at Caesars Palace, just shaking hands, and that left a bad taste in my mouth," he says. "Then I saw Jersey Joe Walcott doing the same thing in Atlantic City. Great champions. That keeps me moving."

But why Italy?

"I like the country, the culture, the people," he says. "And I knew Milan had people who could help me get into movies. What happened was, I wanted to move. I needed a change in my life. People said I wouldn't last a week here, and, I'll tell you, this was a challenge. The first day I was here I got locked in my room because my landlady didn't speak English, and I had to jump off the balcony, and then I had nothing to eat and no lira, and I'm this black guy who doesn't speak Italian, and, you know, I stuck it out because I'm a survivor. Now I love it here."

Hagler speaks decent Italian, and he says that when he has mastered it, he may move to France and master that country's language as well. "I want to learn how other people live," he says. A ninth-grade dropout, Hagler has become the eager student. But isn't there a score to settle before he can be truly at peace?

"The boxing game is over," Hagler says almost gently. "Now is the time to shake hands with your opponents."

The Petronellis don't know exactly what to think of their old fighter these days.

"Once in a while Marvin sends us a postcard picturing him in the jungle, riding in a Jeep," says Pat Petronelli. "He looks happy."

Maybe he is.

 

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Posters in another thread were keen on an article on Earnie Shavers - had to look no further than our own ESB for the answer:


Exclusive Interview With Earnie Shavers - "Today's Heavyweights Aren't As Dedicated"

by James Slater - East Side Boxing - 5th Feb 2010


Right now, as we speak, two heavyweight legends are enjoying each other's company, as they reunite in Tulsa, Oklahoma. For former rivals James Tillis and Earnie Shavers are at the Tillis household, there to celebrate the lifetime achievement award James is to soon be given by the catBox group.

Shavers, who lost a decision to "Quick" in 1982, was kind enough to come to the phone from James' house earlier today, to give me the following interview.

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Here is what the man who shared the ring with, amongst others, Muhammad Ali, Larry Holmes, Joe Bugner, Ken Norton, Jimmy Young and Jimmy Ellis had to say:

James Slater: Wow, it's a surprise pleasure to speak with you, Earnie! You are at James Tillis' house now, to see him receive an award?

Earnie Shavers: Yes, I'm a James' house here in Oklahoma now. He deserves that award (from the catBox Group) that was one great fight we had in Vegas in '82..

J.S: I saw it recently. You had him down with a sledgehammer right hand later in the fight! That was some punch!

E.S: Yeah, I think that made him mad though (laughs). James was a very good fighter and that was a great fight also. I knew when I'd lost, and I thought, 'well, it's his time now.'

J.S: Aside from James Tillis fight, you also fought just about everybody in the heavyweight division in the '70s and 80's. We've just watched the "Facing Ali" movie/documentary, which you are in. Where was your segment filmed, Earnie?

E.S: Oh, that was filmed in the UK (where Earnie now lives). That was done about two years ago. I enjoyed talking about the Ali fight.

J.S: I hope they paid you!

E.S: Oh yeah, they paid me (laughs). They filmed me for a few days.

J.S: You had Ali on ***** street early in that fight you had with him in 1977 - in the 2nd round I think it was. Did you know he was really hurt?

E.S: Yeah, but he was clever - he got away (laughs). They were all great fights in those days, not jut with Ali. We had [Larry] Holmes back then, Tillis, myself and all those great fighters who were willing to face each other - not like it is today.

J.S: You don't think much of today's heavyweights?

E.S: They're not as dedicated, and it's a shame. I think the fans are getting cheated today. It's not like it was in our day, when there were so many good guys.

J.S: I know you tried a comeback in the mid-1990s - was that because you thought no-one would be able to take your power?

E.S: Yes, I tried a couple of fights in the mid-1990s. I thought there'd be nobody who could stand up to my power. I gave it a shot (Earnie had two fights, winning one and losing another; finally retiring for good in November of '95)

J.S: You had a great career, even though you never became champ - do you have anything you would do differently if you could go back and do it again?

E.S: Yeah, there's a few things actually (laughs). The [second] Larry Holmes fight, when I had him hurt (and down in the 7th-round) , I'd have not wasted as many punches, I'd not have got as excited as I did trying to finish him. I wouldn't have wasted my punches and worn myself out like I did.

J.S: You sound in good shape Earnie, you sound okay. Do you still train though?

E.S: I try to, but it's hard with me being on the road so much. I used to train two to four times a week a while back, and I will try and get back into that when I get back to the UK. I love travelling, though - like now, at James Tillis' house. It's his weekend and he deserves his award. I was talking to some press from the UK recently, and we plan to do some more tours there soon. I get calls all the time, asking me to do this and that, and I'm grateful. Boxing has been good to me and I understand I was from a golden era.

J.S: Well, it's been a pleasure speaking with you, Earnie. The "Facing Ali" film is great and you and Henry Cooper have a lot of interesting things to say in it. Have you seen it yet? I know you star in it!

E.S: No, I haven't seen it yet actually. They said they'd send me a copy soon.

J.S: I'm sure you'll enjoy it, Champ. And enjoy your weekend with the Tillis family. It's been great speaking with you.

E.S: Okay, thank you. And to all my fans in England, I'd like to say hello and thank you, too.

 

The article is a bit of an insight into how fighters of days gone by saw themselves and their opponents as 'fighter's fighters' - unfortunately there's not too many around these days who qualify for that sort of rating.

(I enjoy reading these older articles and posting them here for someone who mightn't otherwise get to read them is my pleasure mate).

 

Whilst on

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:

[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDwE44jTZgI[/ame]


...they certainly stayed hit when Earnie got a hold of 'em!

 

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by Shawn Murphy - The Sweet Science dot com - July 30th 2008


Recently I spoke with former IBF Heavyweight Champion Tony Tucker. After a great amateur career, "TNT" turned pro in 1980. Tucker would win the vacant IBF title in 1987 against Buster Douglas. In his next fight, he would take on Mike Tyson, but a broken hand early would limit his ability, as he lost a unanimous decision and his title. He would fight for the heavyweight title twice more but would lose to Lennox Lewis and Bruce Seldon. He retired in 1998 with a record of 58-7 and 48 KO'S.

(SM) Tony, you had a great amateur career, give me the highlights.


(TT) I won the Pam American gold and the World Cup gold. I
had beat everybody that I had to beat to go to the Olympics
but they were boycotted. I was upset because that was my
springboard to professional fighting.

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...a young medal bearing Tucker.


(SM) Tell me about your brush with death and the 1980 plane crash
that killed several of your Olympic teammates?


(TT) I was supposed to go back with the team and fight in Germany.
I missed the plane, looking for my dad who I was supposed to
Meet. I decided to go home but stopped in California for a few
days instead. I didn't even know it had crashed. My family
thought I was on that plane and died. I knew everybody on it,
they were my best friends.


(SM) You got your first world title shot against Buster Douglas in
1987, fighting for the vacant title. Give me your thoughts.

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....Tucker v Douglas.


(TT) I had sparred before with Buster. His dad and my dad were
both fighters too. When we fought it was like a father/son team.
Buster was a good fighter, going in I knew it would a tough one.


(SM) You fought Douglas after Michael Spinks refused to fight you.
What would a Tucker-Spinks fight have been like?


(TT) I would have knocked Michael Spinks out, too small. I should
have had a lot of fights that would have brought me more popularity.
Even Foreman didn't want to fight me.


(SM) Your next fight, you took on Mike Tyson. Were you 100% for
that fight?


(TT) My right hand was broken when I fought him. I knew Tyson
couldn’t beat me. A couple days before I was sparring against
a guy named Young Joe Louis. This guy was doing a lot of
talking bad about me. I heard this from my sparring partners.
So I chose him to spar against first because I was gonna put
him down. I was hitting him real good when I heard a pop in my
hand. When I went back to the corner I knew I had hurt it bad.
The doctor said I had a small hand fracture. They said I would
need therapy and to not use it for ten days. I had to fight Tyson
in less than that. I went in determined though. I was very
apprehensive to attack Tyson due to the hand. I hit him with a
right uppercut early and my hand just shattered. It was the
worst pain ever. I still went on though, that’s why I did all those
antics and everything. I was supposed to beat this guy, but
how could I with one hand. With two hands I would have
knocked Mike Tyson out.


(SM) After that fight your career was never really the same, you were
off about two years. What was going on?


(TT) I had managerial problems. I was out in Hollywood hanging out
with a lot of the stars. I started using drugs and stuff too.


(SM) Give me your thoughts on the Lennox Lewis fight.


(TT) Lennox was a good fighter. I was in the later part of my career.
I wasn't 100% in that one. I don't like to make excuses but I
had a lot of medical problems and other problems at that time.


(SM) In 1995 George Foreman refused to fight you and you fought
Bruce Seldon for the vacant title. Was that fight stopped too
soon you think?


(TT) Oh, definitely. You don't stop a championship fight like that. I
could have gone on no problem. My eye wasn't that bad. They
wanted Seldon to fight Tyson though. When he did he went
down from no punch at all, look at the tapes, he just fell down.
Seldon was scared to death of Tyson.


(SM) After the Seldon fight, you went just 5-4 before quitting. What
were you fighting for at that time, another title shot, money?


(TT) That was towards the end of my career. I definitely was hoping
for another title shot though.


(SM) Was your career ended by an eye injury?


(TT) I got the eye injury against John Ruiz, a detached retina. But I got it
fixed before my last fight. I just beat Billy Wright and quit.


(SM) Who was the toughest fighter you ever faced?


(TT) I would say Lennox Lewis or Buster Douglas definitely.


(SM) Any regrets looking back now Tony, on your career?


(TT) I regret that I fought Tyson not fully healthy. If I would have
postponed the fight, I may have been blackballed. I wouldn't
sign with Don King back then and he was running things. So
looking back now, I just wish I was healthy.


(SM) So what are you doing now?


(TT) I help train boxers at the Boy's Club here. Help them workout
and try to give something back.


(SM) Any future plans for you we should know about?


(TT) I am planning on being the heavyweight champion again!


(SM) What if Tony Tucker was in his prime and fighting today?


(TT) Oh my gosh, I would be licking my chops!. It’s sad today. Now
it's not the heavyweights, it's the lighter weights they talk about.


(SM) Tony, any final words for the fans out there?


(TT) I would just like to apologize for some of the things I have done
in my life, I had some real bumps along the way, some bad
breaks too. I should have been more dedicated to the game.


(SM) Tony thanks for speaking with me.


(TT) No problem, thank you.

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...a recent shot of Tucker 'flogging' beds.

 

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Wales’ first boxing gold medallist at the British Empire Game has died at the age of 93.


Boxing mourns death of Empire Games gold medalist

- by David Williams - South Wales Echo - Oct 16th 2010


DENIS Reardon, Wales’ first boxing gold medallist at the British Empire Games, now the Commonwealth Games, has died at the age of 93.

Aged 20, Reardon, who passed away in his sleep in the early hours of Thursday morning, beat England’s Maurice Dennis in the middleweight final at the 1938 Sydney games.

Known as ‘Dinnie’, the boy from Tiger Bay was one of only six competitors Wales sent to Australia 72 years ago.

His death came not long after Sean McGoldrick just missed out on becoming Wales’ fourth boxer to win a gold at the event when he lost his final in Delhi.

Howard Winstone (1958 and Jamie Arthur (2002) are the other two fighters, along with Reardon, to experience being on the top of the boxing medal podium for their country.

But what Reardon had to deal with back in the late 1930s was miles away from this year’s Team Wales members. Following the 12,000-mile five-week journey Down Under, Reardon met up with ex-Cardiff trainer “Slam”Sullivan.

The only problem was Sullivan’s gym was a 12-mile run from the Welsh team’s base. But, according to Reardon’s grandson Paul Thomas, that gave him the edge in fitness over his rivals.

He beat a New Zealander and a Canadian to reach the final where he got the better of Dennis to clinch gold. Middle-distance runner Jim Alford won the mile for Wales’ other gold at the event.

The Welshman fought on for a couple of years and after leaving the Curran’s factory where he started as an apprentice.

 

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-by Shawn Murphy - The Sweet Science

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Ron Lyle's conviction for second degree murder in his teens may have been a blessing in disguise. While in prison Lyle found boxing and joined the prison team where his talent was evident.

Upon his release in 1969 Lyle began his amateur career at the Denver Elks gym and became the United States Amateur Heavyweight Champion in 1970.

His professional career culminated in a May 1975 shot at Muhammad Ali's heavyweight title. Beating Ali going into the eleventh round, Lyle was hurt and took almost twenty punches before a controversial stoppage.

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....Lyle (right) and Ali.


Lyle would not get another title shot and retired with a record of 43-7.


SM: Ron how did your boxing career get started?

RL: I first got started in Colorado while in prison. We didn't get to fight
much, I think I had like fourteen or fifteen fights. They brought in
some guys from the Army sometimes to box but it was very limited.
When I found boxing it was a blessing from God.

SM: What was your amateur career like after being paroled?

RL: I was an amateur for about nine years or so. I really had nothing
else after I got out of prison. As an amateur I was the National
Amateur Heavyweight champ in 1970.

SM: So when did you turn pro?

RL: I was about twenty-eight. If I would have started ten years prior to
that there's no telling what I could have done, but that's hindsight.
God blessed me and took me along and I met a lot of people along
the way.

SM: You were 19-0 when you faced Jerry Quarry in February 1973, who most said you would have no problems with, what happened?

RL: I beat Quarry, he got the decision. He had just signed a contract with
the Garden. I know I beat him; I have the tape and watch it all the time.
But that's boxing; there are always two sides to the game.

SM: Jimmy Young beat you twice, in 1975 and 1976, why was he so difficult for you?

RL: I thought I beat him both times, I'll leave it at that.

SM: Anything you would have done differently in the Ali fight?

RL: I mean what could I have done differently, I won ten of eleven
rounds! The referee never gave me a mandatory eight count, that's
what my rulebook says he has to do.

SM: Everyone I have ever interviewed who fought Earnie Shavers says
he was the hardest puncher ever, your take?

RL: Absolutely, that dude could punch, man.

SM: You fought until 1980, losing to Gerry Cooney in one round, and then
retired for fourteen years. What did you do during this time?

RL: I enjoyed my life. I was living in Las Vegas and was involved in
boxing, training kids and such.

SM: Why the comeback in 1995 after fourteen years?

RL: Just to see. All fighters like to know if they can still do it. I'm not the
only one. That was just a personal fight. And once you see that you
can get by and make some money or get a title shot, you'll do it.

SM: You had some success knocking out all your four opponents and then
hung it up again, why?

RL: Well I wanted to fight George Foreman and they said Ron who? They
forgot who I was so I said there was no use wasting my time. If I
couldn’t get a shot at the big money then I was just wasting my time.

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....Lyle v Foreman.


SM: Toughest opponent, Foreman, Shavers, who?

RL: Without a doubt Earnie Shavers. That's the guy that made me get off
the ground.

SM: Which fight are you most proud of?

RL: All of them and I always gave my best.

SM: You still follow boxing today?

RL: Yea, I train fighters so I keep up on it. I train amateurs and pros here
in Denver.

SM: Any thoughts on the heavyweight division today?

RL: You know it's as strong I guess as it has been in years. You got all
those fighters from Europe that are pretty good.

SM: How do they compare to your era?

L: You know I never like to compare yesterday to today because those
guys learned from yesterday. We learned from Liston and those guys,
so I just don’t like to compare fighters because times are different, the
reasons for fighting are a lot different. It's all about the money now.
When I fought it was all about getting respect from your peers.

SM: Any fighters you wanted to fight but didn’t get a shot to?

RL: I wanted to fight anybody that was ahead of me, I didn’t care who it
was. If you were ahead of me I wanted to fight you. If you had the
title I wanted to fight you.

SM: Final thoughts Ron?

RL: None really, but if I had to do my life over again I would do it exactly
the same way.

SM: Thanks Ron for talking to me.

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...Ron Lyle at the Internation Boxing Hall of Fame - probably about 2005.

 

Was on an aeroplane the other day and read in the flight mag about an Aussie rowing team from the 1920's and what they had to go through in order to compete at the 1924 Paris Olympics and other events.

Some of the travel and commitment involved for sportsmen years ago was absolutely mindboggling by comparsion with current standards.