Excalibur

Niccolini Locche.

He was a maverick.

Smoked between rounds, spoke to his opponents during the fight, spoke to the crowd during the fight, rarely trained (allegedly.), went completely against the grain, drunk and had head movement that could dodge bullets.

Legend.

 

It's the beginning of part 2 of "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg.

 

Ginsberg did love his repetitions.

 

If you look up Locche vs Fuji on google my article on the fight is just below the wiki link.

 

Room's where love was made and unmade
Room's for the extraordinary and mundane
Room's where futures were planned, the imagination of children built castles in the sand
Where women got ready, and boys were groomed
Eyes were charred, poison loomed
Smoke and cinders did battle to clash
The towering inferno seized lives to scatter the ash
As they wish for their family to be in another place, they can't think of anything except their mother's face
And now the soot flies in the breeze of a summer's day
Colourful memories are painted over by the colour grey

Did they die, or us?
Did they die, or us?
Or did they die for us?

Reminds me of Julian Letterlough.

 

Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null, Dead perfection, no more.
- Tennyson

This one really reminds me of boxers such as Bernard Hopkins, who theoretically have 'perfect' textbook styles. You can call them scientists of the ring, but not artists.