Sonny Liston v Lennox Lewis in a street fight?

It’s just whack. Lol

 

I don’t think you understand much about prison. With all due respect I think you’re misinformed. Secondly, I just want to be clear, you think because he has a cautious boxing style that it’s an indication of having a mental break down? Or was it because he wanted to sue Rahman?about the Rahman thing well if it works he’d get paid… What exactly about prison do you think will make Lennox crack and have a mental breakdown? please be descriptive here.

 

I have seen literally zero film of Sonny doing anything in streets, have you? Also, beating up on no hoper thugs outside the ring is not an indication of anything other then a bad temper and worse life choices, in this case.

What kind of guys do you think he was fighting outside the ring that Lennox couldn’t take out of commission with a jab? The gulf between a pro and an untrained rough rider is night and day and a fight would last seconds.

 

Ali did get Frazier in that guillotine doe!

This content is protected

Nah though guys like Ali, Wlad, Fury and Lewis just were not brought up in that kind of thing compared to other fighters. I know Holyfield said he hasn't had a street fight since 8th grade (Which is a good thing) But I would fancy him over all of them in that setting.

 

It's blatantly obvious to me that Lewis has plenty of mongrel inside him. Boxing is a great "platform" for street fighting. A guy like Liston isn't going to be trying to tackle you around legs and take you down vs belting christ out of you with his fists when he is actually a heavyweight ATG with them. No-one Liston faced in the street was going to be able to beat him with fists.

Lewis would not be out of his element because Sonny's had some street fights. Liston belting people on the street, given his fistic ability and power, would be short and easy affairs. He would be a massive fish in a puddle of water. Lewis has never backed away from anything. Bowe gets in his face and he doesn't go anywhere.

My old town was small but volatile. At a certain pub we used to call Friday the Friday Night Fight Nights. There were so many brutal fights there over the years it just wasn't funny. Dozens and dozens and dozens. Fists, no holds barred, pick handles, didgeridoo's believe it or not, 12 on 2, pipes, broken bottles, everything. Multiple people hospitalized. How multiple people didn't ever die i will never know. I witnessed all of this. I know how they work.

Being not only able to fight, but huge as well sure doesn't hurt either. Bowe would be another hard guy to beat on the street. When they need to dig they are going to dig. It might come down to who gets the killer blow in first.

 

Yeah, they followed it up with the “meathead” appearing on A Current Affair telling his “side”.

Perhaps through the fanciful eyes of a boxing fan - but it reminded me a bit of Big Cat hauling off on Liston - the chump was no Liston of course in the face of Old Big Cat.

It’s a literal red light to green light punch on too - wraps up pretty much on the light turning green - only further delayed by the chump’s half a**ed attempt to pretend that he was still keen - exactly as you said. The OG must’ve had amazing foresight - his abbreviated though impressive pugilistic display providing as the perfect You Tube “Short” many years later. Kinda like when they cut 15 rounds to 12 rounds, in part due to more convenient broadcasting and allotment for advertisements.

Also, the OG half pulls his last punch as meathead walks away - but OG’s balance is perfectly maintained even when not connecting. I’ve slowed it down - the punches mostly land, particularity the last connection that causes meathead to move away.

Also, on the car radio they’re talking about water conservation while it’s actually raining outside - LOL, the vid just keeps giving.

Couldn’t quite remember the exact title of the vid - I just remembered enough - OLD GUY and MEATHEAD then, voila, there it still is - LOL.

 

LOL, you’re killing me - didgeridoos also!! Though not a dedicated weapon nor as conveniently applied as the Nulla-Nulla, I guess they’d have some decent clout to them. So during the melees, did you partner up with a mate and pretend to be having your own private stoush in a corner so no one would bother you? Hehe.

 

As soon i saw this originally i thought jeez look at that old fella go. I have little doubt he was a decent fighter in his day. I mean this meathead didn't even get to punch can you imagine the old fella in his prime? He looks like he has a heap of age on him. Looks like he has a nice reach too.

I did hear on the radio, now you mention it, "a perilous situation"

 

Funnily enough, while I’m sure Liston was very strong, I don’t know that he necessarily demonstrated it literally in the ring.

By that I mean Sonny boxed very clean in general, not so much mauling and man handling - though vs Patterson there was a bit of that but a whole lotta punching besides. Fighting Liston would be like punching in futility at an ever advancing brick wall with bricks randomly flying off and hitting you in the head.

IMO, Liston’s greatest display of strength and resistance was communicated by way of his chin, power and go forward style - but if inclined, I’m sure Sonny could’ve manhandled at least as often and as easily as Foreman did - but Sonny was the much more skilled, rounded boxer - so he had that to be getting on with instead of more primitive application of strength in the ring.

 

Just a random thought - Besides abundant boxing skills, Duran often brought the “street” into the ring - perhaps most famously so in his fight vs poor Davey Moore. Thumbs, lacings, heelings, you name it. Brutal.

The ref was f*cked in his absolute lack of policing - I’ve read the ref was closer than “arms length” to Duran and his family - not sure if that’s true or not but it would explain a lot.

Of course Duran deliberately smashed a punch well below the belt line of Ken Buchanan’s tartan trunks - square into the supplementary bag for Kenny’s pipe - not much was done about that either. Against the Scot, Roberto took the “low road”. LOL, Roberto was Teflon coated - in fact, he was highly celebrated for his animalistic ways.

 

Last year i posted this whole story to George C but removed it a bit later as it's a pretty violent story and longish winded.

Since it is a street fighting thread, a quality story and you are a quality conversationalist i will whip it out but try to keep it on point. Let me assure you none of this is exaggerated, if you can believe that.

"S" is from a hard family and is the hardest guy i have ever known. Never boxed but pure street fighter with a right hand that knocked out virtually everyone it landed clean on. He was probably only about 6'1 and 190-200 pounds but his strength may as well have been that of a strong 250 pound guy. His favorite weapon was to get a hold of them and head butt them into oblivion which happened many times. He is also virtually impossible to stun let alone hurt.

This other mob loved a good gang on, they seldom fought fair and loved a good 10 on 1 or so. Absolute dogs really. Apparently weed money started off the whole forever war between S and his family, this mob, and another mob sort of aligning against S as well. It ended up somewhat racial as well.

So battles have been going on a while. S and his mate are at the bar closest to the front door of the previously mentioned hotel getting a few takeaways. 10 minutes earlier a bunch of us had been out back and S had actually had a little chuck while toking. Said he'd had a big afternoon and didn't feel 100%. One guy from this mob comes in, king hits him from the side, which has zero effect except to wind him up. The guy had said outside after hitting him and raced back out front. When S went out the front this guy is 20 meters to the left where the hotel bordered onto a vacant lot with overgrown grass.

As S gets to him about 10 of his brothers and cousins explode out of the grass. One had a didgeridoo and there was either one or two pick handles as well. I think one. So they've bombarded him and he's gone backward into a car. He's surrounded against the car obviously and they are flailing away. Incredibly he's grabbed one of them and dragged him down in front of him against the wheel and front guard of the car.

The mob continues wailing away and are hitting their mate far more than they are hitting S which was what his plan was. Well it was survival really. Instinct. At this point his mate, big tall unit who could certainly fight a bit himself comes out and smashed his 6 pack of stubbies over one of their heads and starts letting loose.

Most of the mob swing around and whale away. Given some leeway S lurches into action and starts dropping people. He's not discriminating whether he hits the front or the back of the head. Why would he. It's survival. He's dropped a few and they all swing back to him. His mate is carried past us by two guys, totally unconscious. 40 or 50 of us are looking on, stunned really, even tho we'd seen glimpses before.

So they've got him surrounded in the middle of the road now. There's about 6 of them left in current working condition. There's the didgeridoo and pick handle. Actually i think the doo had been taken off them by another guy altogether who was sick of all the wars. He waded in shouting and clean took it then swung it around wild as a couple thought of taking it back. It's a pretty dark night too. They attack him in tandem in waves. They'd all go in at once and then all jump back at once after a swing. S would pick out one e and simply put, knock him out. The mate laughed later, saying each time they came in they had one less guy. It was that simple.

So after dropping about the third guy he was finally able to get the pick handle before they did. Trouble was he was so wound up he threw it at them as they ran for their lives. There isn't many left functioning at this point but one wasn't finished. S had started walking away and he hit him from behind. S turned and he ran back. S would walk away and he'd do it again. Anyway after two times, i'm not sure whether he angled himself so as to catch a shadow or actually heard and timed the steps but S has spun around quick and punched him clean off his feet and unconscious.

The final act before the cops arrived in force came from one of the other mob altogether. These were a group of brothers who were all a bit under 6' with huge guts. They could go a bit but loved outnumbering people as well and one was a renowned king hitter. So one of them started screaming at S from the other side of the road and came at him running. Picture this guy comfortably short of 6' and about 250 pounds running at full tilt, and it's pretty dark too

I was quite close and S sorta was walking his way and looking down, not even acknowledging him. Again, right at the point of no return he's let go this blazing right hand and you know how you see guys in sport get their leg trapped under themselves? Well his upper body was going backward from the force of the punch and his lower body, i guess, still wanted to go forward. I'm not sure whether the pain kept him conscious or what but there he is screaming and howling flat on the road about a broken leg, which was correct. The position he was belted into saw it broken.

The next morning i was at the best mates with another good mate, who was in deep with S (a non fighter tho) and also with my friends. Spread his time between us. We were friends with S but never overly thick with him. So S comes looking for his mate with us. He comes in and shows us his forearm. It's broken or fractured or whatever it was. From his elbow to his wrist is black and immensely swollen. Turns out in the middle of the fight it's been fractured and i did recall seeing him block the pick handle once or twice with his left forearm. Even in summer he wore steel capped work boots, jeans and usually tattered tee shirts. He pulls out this length of chain we didn't even know he had from the back of his jeans and tells us lookout if they come near me today.

A week or two later some of them went through court for the damage to the car panels, door, bonnet, whatever they had damaged. Most bigger or more exciting court cases were in the daily newspaper. Now get this. $2800au damage had been done to that car around S. Now even bearing in mind panel beaters charge up a bit on insurance jobs etc that's a bit of damage considering we are talking money from 3 decades ago.

Abbreviating didn't help much did it!!!! There's just too much happened to cut it down very well. All this would have been in, at a guess, 20-30 minutes maybe? Actually maybe it was shorter as there weren't many gaps in the action and the cops got there at the finish and the town is very small. Time certainly stood still.

So there's a lot of words to describe a didgeridoo!!! I'll probably leave it up this time as it's hardly off topic in a street fight thread where we can measure dicks

There's also the time the other mob gathered numbers and 3 carloads attacked S and his family when they arrived home from a full day of hauling rail sleepers onto trucks by hand in the bush. The mob planned it all afternoon and were drinking heavily in a hotel, IMO, getting the courage up. Word got around but there were no mobile phones in those days so a warning was impossible. The mob also rang the police as soon as the truck S and co were on went past the pub and told them there were multiple gunshots up the dam which completely put the cops out of the picture as only one car would ever be on duty with one or two of them rostered on.

Two mates had positioned themselves on a hilltop and watched it all unfold. But that's a story for another time.

 

In my younger days going out - one thing I noticed was that if you were perceived to be on your own, it wouldn’t be lost on those with malicious intent, and they might’ve spied you for some time without you realising it. It’s not uncommon.

I’d lost my 10 x more inebriated mate, so I grabbed the last available dime table in a cocktail lounge of a club. On the prowl, ha! As the place swelled, a random dude asked if I minded him sitting in one of the other vacant seats.

Sure I said, and he seemed normal enough and we just had the normal chit chat. Then he had a mate arrive shortly thereafter who he asked if it was okay to sit with us also. I said sure, again.

All still normal but THEN, after about 1/2 hour, they tell me aggressively to leave “their” table. WTF? I put them straight and they began to escalate, trying to talk tough.

I began to rise out of my chair to ready myself but one of them pushed me hard as I was half way up, off balance and I went backward in my seat to the ground. Unhurt except for pride.

I got up to start swinging but then felt the impact of hard punch to my right temple - his mate had blindsided me - I went to throw at said mate but got held back by intervening patrons.

Others testified to security as to who started it - the other two bozos were kicked out and I got to stay……but another feature to such things is keeping your eye out when you leave the club - there are psychopaths who will lay in wait outside to try and exact their revenge. On this occasion, no one to be seen.

It’s funny when you’ve had a few “ales” - you know you’ve been hit and you know it was hard - but there is little or no pain….until the next day of course. LOL.

So, in some cases, alcohol might give you the chin of Tex Cobb but unfortunately it will also reduce you to the same skill set.

I’ve spoken to a few street wise scrappers. One told me how they would quickly assess their environment - and it’s ever changing in the “street” with different perils and advantages from one scene location to another. Punch ups in rest rooms can be particularly nasty for obvious reasons.

One of the more brutal “tricks” I was told of - encasing your car keys inside a clenched fist with a single key end protruding between the folded fingers - good lord, imagine copping that?

Funny to reflect on our “bullet proof” youths and then think, gee, I’m lucky to still be here - no wonder Mum and Dad were having kittens! You have your own kids later and the karmic wheels then turn……..that’s the most real fear, concern for the well being of your own children….who “strangely” take after your own good, former self.

 

Just to add to a fine post, per the highlighted. The rare times Liston did have to stop advancing, i.e. against Cleveland Williams, he had the versatility to size things up, change tact, and still destroy you quickly via less straightforward, but more skillful, means. This for me really accentuates what a great heavyweight he was.

 

I know he said something to that effect.
But that is not what I was saying.
Which is that he hurt his right hand.
And that contributes to my doubt that Lewis was fearful.
I asked for an indication of this motivation you ascribed to him, again numerous boxers like Ali choose not to try & finish a man-sometimes for a whole fight-for many reasons besides being afraid.

 

Fine points. I much preferred to spectate in my younger day unless i just couldn't get out of it. I wasn't in much trouble but did see a lot it. I was also pretty perceptive as to what was going on around me, if trouble was brewing etc. Perhaps a sticky beak