Parsons, Jimmy vs. Richardson, Rudy
McClain, Jimmy, vs. Slaughter Bob
The plan had been for Sugar Ray Robinson to work up through
the ranks once more and thus earn his way into what would have been his 16th
middleweight championship fight. Only Sugar Ray, and perhaps some of his
idolatrous entourage, believed in the plan. He had won that 160-pound
championship five times, more than any other man and the welterweight title
once, and he thought that at the age of 45 he could do it again. He must have
believed it or else he would not have fought nine times last year and 13 this
year, losing to nonentities in the Altoonas of boxing and winning against
unknowns, taking his lumps on each occasion for a $1,000 purse here, $2,000
there. A great mystery was made of why he bothered with the travail of
training, put up with the one-night stands in tank towns or endured those
inglorious lickings he took from fighters who will never fight in Madison Square
Garden, Yankee Stadium or Las Vegas.
He did not need the money. The Internal Revenue Service
recently turned over to him $344,000 it had withheld, against taxes, since
1957. Robinson owns property in Cleveland and Chicago, having sold his Harlem
holdings. He has contracts to make two movies, one a Western, the other a war
picture. He is well-fixed financially. In the end, you had to believe that he
was striving honestly for a title fight.
He came surprisingly close to getting it. Last week Joey
Archer, a fine boxer with but a modest punch, stood between Sugar Ray and an
opportunity to meet the middleweight champion, Dick Tiger. If he were to defeat
Archer, the No. 1 contender in most ratings—and one good left hook would do
it—Sugar Ray would all but surely have earned a sixth chance at the
middleweight crown despite his 45 years. So, on a Wednesday night in
Pittsburgh, he faced the blue-eyed, broken-nosed Archer before a crowd of
9,023, many of them old timers who fondly remembered Robinson in his glory
days, and among them a sprinkling of younger men who wanted to see what the
legend was about.
Robinson weighed 160 pounds, Archer a pound less. Under the
lights of the television cameras at the weigh-in ceremony the tiny, well-healed
scars at the outer corner of each of Sugar's eyes could be seen. But there were
no other marks to show for his 25 years of prizefighting and 198 bouts.
Outwardly his body was as sleek as ever and his waist as trim. What remained
inside would be seen that night.
Archer is a superior boxer. He has a classic jab, some
effective feints and good footwork. He has lost only once in 47 fights. He has
been knocked down but once, too, in one of his early matches, and then only his
knee touched the canvas.
As soon as the fight started it became clear that both men
intended to follow the same plan—but for quite different reasons. Robinson came
out intent on winning early, presumably because he has learned that his aging
legs no longer serve him well in the late rounds. Archer's strategy was much
the same, for he wanted to press Robinson at all times, and thus drain Sugar
Ray of whatever stamina he had as quickly and thoroughly as possible.
With both men charging at each other, it started as an
interesting fight and it remained one, even though there was little doubt about
the result after the first few rounds. What had happened to Robinson's timing
showed with the first hook he threw. It was a long, powerful swing, delivered
from far back, precisely the hook with which he knocked out Gene Fullmer in the
1957 title fight, except that it missed Archer's chin by five inches. A minute
or so later Robinson tried the hook again and missed again. Archer jabbed and
faded out of range, jabbed and faded repeatedly, once scoring prettily with a
combination to body and head.
The Robinson strategy still was operative in the second
round, and this time it worked a bit better. He started out with a left and
right to Archer's body. Joey is one who fights back, and he drove Robinson
almost to the ropes with a flurry of head punches. His older brother, Jimmy,
who manages and trains him, saw that Archer's temper was showing and shouted at
him from the corner. "Loose, Joey," he commanded. "Stick! Stick!
Loosen up, Joey!" The moment of danger passed. Joey went back to his jab,
and Sugar missed with a right and left. Those misses opened the way for Archer
to land eight quick punches to the head, but all were too high to be damaging.
Now it was the third round, and Robinson still was trying
for the big punch. He had one hook blocked, he landed a right to the body, and
then, with a single brilliant flash of his old talents, caught Archer with a
very good hook, closed with him and, as they stood toe to toe, scored with a
flurry.
But that was the end. Early in the fourth, after Archer had
hooked him twice and landed some light jabs, Sugar missed with a big right
hand. A look of concern came over his face. Archer was jabbing and moving, and
Robinson was missing with rights and lefts. Then, suddenly, Archer landed a
left to the head and followed it immediately with a long right. Sugar Ray went
down on the seat of his white silk trunks, rolled to his side and, dazed, took
a nine-count resting on one knee. Now Sugar and everyone knew that his fight
plan had failed, and so had his grand plan. The last time the light-hitting
Archer had knocked a man down was in 1960.
The rest of the fight was nothing but the last steps down
for a gallant Robinson. He all but hit the canvas again in the sixth and once
again in the seventh, looked better in the eighth and slugged it out with
Archer in the ninth. In the last minute of the 10th round men at ringside were
standing and pleading, "Don't hit him again, Joey! That's enough!" As
the fighters awaited the decision after the final bell tears welled into
Robinson's bloodshot eyes. There was a tiny cut, a mere scratch, on his right
cheekbone. His nose was ruddy from all those jabs. He was breathing heavily.
His legs were leaden. He knew.
It had been a long and glorious trail for Sugar Ray
Robinson, who just may have been the best fighter ever. His skills were
exquisite, his punch superb, his courage unsurpassed. But, as he had just
learned, there always comes a day when only the courage remains.
The soft-spoken Archer held court in his dressing room.
"He's a tough guy," Archer said. "He is one
of the cagiest old guys in boxing. He feints—most fighters today can't do that.
He is the greatest fighter I ever saw among the middleweights."
And in a nearby room, the bleary-eyed Robinson was refusing
to concede that he had fought his last.
"I want to get a night's sleep before I make up my
mind," he said.
Next afternoon at the airport, waiting for a plane to take
him back to New York, Sugar Ray smiled wanly, hunched his black leather,
hip-length coat about his shoulders and said that retirement was the only
course open to him now.
"But we have this offer of a return bout with
Archer," one of his followers protested.
"Aw, what would be the point?" Robinson said.
YouTube Link : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7de626M-qKA
