Laila Ali: It's All In The Genes! by Mike Marino
How do you get your mojo in full gear and at the same time mark your territory in a world when your dad is not only "super dad" but, the self proclaimed "worlds greatest" boxer, Muhammad Ali? I remember when Ali was simply Cassius Clay and watching his fancy footwork as he danced around the ring flaunting his massive ego while taunting his opponent. The champ could dance like a butterfly, before he would launch his attack against another fighter and sting like a bee. I can also recall when he refused to serve in the military and go to Vietnam. An act of defiance in a violent era of Sixites American history. Much of the press vilified him, while some, along with his friend sportscaster extraordinaire, Howard Cosell stood firmly by his side. To us, he was the champ, pure and simple and always will be as it was also our era, our time, and he was our champ. He was certainly one of the most colorful of them all in a sport that was a smorgasbord of colorful characters. Following in such gigantic familial footsteps is not an easy task...that is unless you are the deadly determined, vibrantly vivacious, and competitively driven daughter of the champ himself. Entering the ring of history ladies and gentlemen....I give you Laila "She Be Stingin" Ali!
In an interview with a sports magazine a few years back regarding her career she was asked by a reporter if being Ali's daughter was a help or a hindrence to her.. Simply enough, she said, "It's all in the genes" and man, what genes. When she began fighting in 1999 she filled out a pair of jeans nicely as well. Shapely, athletic and ready to rock and roll, she at 5'10" tall she weighed in at 166 pounds. She had the dynamite packed body of a fighting amazon and proved it over and over in the ring against her opponents who probably wished they had taken the day off rather then meet the nuclear power packed punch that Laila was capable of delivering.
Stepping out of the ring for a moment for some retrospection, Laila was born in Miami Beach, Florida in 1977 and was the second youngest of Muhammed Ali's nine kids. Life with the champ had to be the kind you read about in "once upon a time" fairytales where the handsome knight protects his family against the forces of evil. Even fairytales have dark chapters, and for Laila it was a brief stint in juvie hall for a shoplifting incident when she was 16. Around the same age, myself and perhaps a lot of you also got into a bit of trouble for the first time as we were flexing our teenaged angst filled muscle of independence.
Laila began showing an interest in womens boxing when she was 18 watching Christy Martin fight in the ring. That was enough and she was stung by the boxing bug and history was about to be made and the sport of womens boxing would never be the same again. It would have the spotlight shining brightly on it and take it to stratospheric levels it had never attained before. Laila brought punch and panache to the ring, not to mention more than just a little sex appeal that oozed from every pore of her buff body. Name recognition alone assured her of her place on the pedestal of pugilism.
However, making the decision to enter the ring of female boxing did not sit well with the champ. Muhammad felt it was too dangerous for her, but, she assured him as only a daughter can, that she would only fight women, and not men! She also assured him she had his genes! That alone is not a guarantee but damn sure moves you to the head of the class.
Training hard she was ready for her first match up on Oct. 8, 1999. Her opponent was April Fowler of Indiana and the fight was held at a Native American casino of the Onieda Nation in Verona, New York. This was also the date of another historic event in the world of boxing. It was supposed to be the a match of the first Male-Female pro bout ever to be given the blessing of the US boxing commission. It was held, but was not as an official bout, but instead ruled to be an exhibition match. The Ali-Fowler fight however was the real deal. By now with these two events colliding like rampaging meteors out of orbit, the sports journalists were a gathering battalian of ravenous beasts battling for exclusives. The floodgates were open wider now than they were in 1996 when April Fowler fought Deirdre Gogarty. Now, it was open season and the adrenalin was flowing faster than Niagara Falls when Ali knocked out Fowler in her first match up. The fight was attended by over 3,000 fans and an army of sports journalists jockeying for position, interviews and exclusives.
If the ring debut of Laila Ali weren't enough to satisfy the "Ali" faithful, add to that the fact that Muhammad himself came to witness his daughters historic bout. The crowd went absolutely ballistic when the ring announcer said over the speaker system, "A man who needs no introduction....) and Ali made his way ringside with the crowd in a hypnotized state of mind began shouting the Muhammad mantra over and over again..."Ali, Ali, Ali" This was the type of debut that dreams are made of, not to mention photo ops and sports page coverage worldwide. That had to be disconcerting to some degree for April Fowler you have to admit. She was fighting the daughter of a legend and the legend was in the audience overlooking the events as Zeus would from his royal throne. You know the saying, the mountain can't go to Muhammad, but Muhammad went to the mountain? Here it was in sports three dimension.
Laila was on the fast track now and in her next fight against challenger Shadina Pennybaker, Laila won that one by a TKO with only seconds to go on the clock. Eight wins later you'd think this was a NASCAR champ and the race was on at breakneck speed. Now it came to a crossroads. She had made her mark, she was undefeated and now it was time to play her trump card. Many wanted to see her step into the ring with George Foreman's daughter or Joe Fraziers daughter. You know, Star Trek the Next Generation. Or Star Trek the Next Gender and Generation. Not to disappoint the fans and the sports writers, the Ali/Frazier fight was scheduled. Not only did Ali win in eight rounds, but it was also the first pay per view fight between two Black women.
She started winning titles and belts including the WIBA and IWBF belts. In 2004 she won the IWBF Light Heavyweight title to her stable of wins. In 2005 she was still undefeated and won the World Boxing Council title . That fight between two female titans, Ali and challenger Erin Toughill were bitter sworn enemies and that fight is considered one of the most violent female fights that ever took place in the ring.
The hits kept on coming and many of the top female fighters have wanted to fight her again over the years. There are two sides to every boxing story and this one is no different. Critics claim she was avoiding these match ups, while she contends they, the challnegers wanted more money than seemed reasonable. I don't want to take a stand on this one nor would I dispute Ali face to face in or out of the ring...but she had nothing left at this point to prove to anyone.
Out of the ring Ali was now in the arena of bonafide showbiz. Hosting along with Hulk Hogan the American Gladiators second life comeback, and joined the CBS morning team as a sports reporter/contributor. She is an inspiration to young women and a voaracious advocate of living a healthy lifestyle. She has written books, shared her experiences, and is a world class champion in her own right. "Ladies and Gentleman, a woman who needs no introduction...." Remember...it's all in the jeans.
The Brown Bomber: Joe Louis Kicks the Axis on Their Asses by Mike Marino
Can it be true? Joe Louis helped kick Hitler in the balls and score a victory for Democracy? Well, yes, he did in two ways in fact. He was in the armed forces in during WWII fighting in the Pacific for democracy and equality while having to serve in a segregated unit himself. So much for all men are created equal, even on the battlefield. In the boxing ring it was another story altogether. He was lord and ruler of the boxing world from 1937 to 1949 and thanks to a fight and the attendent hoopla of a match with German born fighter Max Schmelling, Louis became the poster child of Anti-Nazi sentiment that raged like a forest fire in America at the outbreak of war. It was the comman man of America versus the so called master race superman of Germany. This resulted in two matches. The first one saw Louis loose, and by the second match, he was ready. Hitler had already proclaimed a "black man cannot beat a superior Aryan, however almost a year prior to Hitlers panzer divisions crossing the Polish border igniting a conflagration that would engulf the entire planet, the Brown Bomber knocked down Max three times in under two minutes causing the Aryan nation to toss in the Aryan towel. Louis was victorious, as were the allies victorious over the Germany by 1945.
Joseph Louis Barrow was born in 1914 in Alabama. His parents were the children of former southern slaves and as most in the south were engaged in the backbreaking labor of share cropping. Louis spent his formative years in southern fried South, where Klan activity was taking its animalistic toll on the black communities with cross burnings, beatings and lynchings, so in 1926, he family headed north, to my hometown of Detroit, Michigan. The industrial hub of the automotive industry and employent in the early part of the industrial age explosion of the automotive industry. The family settled into the Black Bottom ghetto communty of the city and Joe eventually found work at the behemoth Rouge Plant for Henry Fords Ford Motor Company that was "putting America on wheels" at a furious assembly line pace. In his spare time he studied cabinet making and violin, but neither really held his interest. Imagine what a symphony would sound like with Joe Louis in the orchestra. It would not only have some stringed soul, but some balls as well!
When the great Depression, greatly depressing the nation family incomes and economics hit the canvas hard, the only other options generally open to a young man of the ghetto was a life as a gangster, gambler or pimp. Joe however had a compass needle that pointed away from that life and instead he started hanging out a youth rec center on Brewster Street where he started boxing with the other kids with similar interests. His mother would have abhorred this foray into pugilism so Joe bought some cheap boxing gloves and hid them in his violin case and went to the gym. If boxing was a religion, then Joe attended mass every day!
His first bout was in 1932 when Joe was 17. He won the fight and in the process with a string of follow up victories he won the club championship of the rec center where Golden Gloves fever was permeating the air. One year later, Joe was ready to move up the boxing ladder and won the Detroit area Golden Gloves contest in the light heavy weight category. The same year he lost in Chicago for the division title but won it the next year. Then it happened. The regional seas parted and Joe was about to step across to boundary to national attention. In April of '34 Joe fought, won and was proclaimed the United States Amateur Champion of the National AAU Tournament in St. Louis, Missouri. Before he went pro, he had an impressive record of 50 wins, 4 loses and 43 devasting knockouts. His mother was now aware of his pugilistic proficiency and the violin was put in the back of the closet for good. Replaced permanently by golden hands inside golden gloves that showed no mercy in the ring when the bell of combat rang!
It didn't take long for he pro's to come knocking on Joes locker room door and he signed with a manager in Detroit. Joe's first pro fight was appropriately on the Fourth of July in 1934 against a fighter named Jack Kracken in a venue on the southside of Chicago. It was all over for Kracken in round one as he kissed the canvas while Joe took home $50 bucks or so for the win. That same year, Joe won all 12 fights he fought, tendering full knock outs to ten of his opponents.
Fights were plentiful and colorful but the path Joe was on was the Yellow Brick Road to the coveted title of Heavy Weight Champ. At this juncture of the road, Jack Johnson had been and still was the champ, and although boxing was not officially segregated, many in the camp of white America were getting tired of having a Black champ. The fact that he was married to a white woman ramped up the intensity of racism, in this, the dark ages of America's 2Oth Century so-called enlightenment.
Joe's manager and handlers knew they had a PR campaign lying ahead of them to counter act the "Jack" factor and so they touted Joe's clean living. He also was told to never pose in any photo with a white woman which would bring back the race card specter of Jack Johnson all over again. It worked! The white press corps lauded Joe as a modest man with goals and he was now not far from rock star status in the world of contenders in the sport of boxing.
In 1935 Joe had 13 bouts and he was on the road to stardom in June of that year when he laid out former champ, Primo Carera in round six.Somehow politics got mixed into the sport and turned a garden of manly pugilistic combat into a compost pile of patriotism! Benito Mussilini was strutting his stuff in Italy and warming up to his new partner in genocide and crime, Adolph Hitler. War fever was spreading in America, it would come in time when the attack on Pearl Harbor woke the sleeping giant of democracy, but for now, knocking out Primo was an American victory over facsism in Europe! Because of Primo's Italian heritage, the Black community was especially interested and hailed the victory, real and symbolic as it was at the time, over the Italian for the simple fact that Italy had invaded the country of Ethiopia on the African continent! The stage was set and the the press ran with the ball and started, as the press will do, to give Joe different nicknames to blaze a trail in the headlines...the Mahogany Mauler and the Chocolate Chopper were two examples, that fortunately didn't stick, but one, The Brown Bomber was the one that did, and name alone sounded like a B-17 ready to deliver a barrage of bombs to the enemy where ever they were...in Europe, Asia..or one lone apponent in the ring in the center of Madison Square Garden.
As the year continued, Joe managed to knock out former champ Max Baer and the stage was set for the boxing worlds version of the Normandy Invasion. Joe would take on the former World Heavyweight Champ, Max Schmeling. Hitler hung his hopes on this Aryan superman and predicted a victory for the Fatherland. When the bout occured...he was right. Max knocked the contender out in the 12th round in Yankee Stadium in June of that year. This was Joe's first pro loss for the Numero Uno contender for the title in the heavyweight division.
The forces were now in motion like a bubbling lava lamp, and anti-Nazi sentiment was building at a feverish pace. It was more potent than a panzer tank. The battlefield was ready for a re-match between the pride of Hitlers Germany, and of America's champ for all seasons. Louis-Schemling II was one fo the major boxing events of all time internationally. Hitlers has Max's back in the Fatherland, and because he defeated a Black man, Hitlers PR goons were all the outcome and of course it adding a "racial purity" spin to extoll Aryan superiority! The second fight was now scheduled and while Max was on the Wilhelmstrasse goosestepping with his Gestapo cronies, FDR invited Joe to the White House, no, not for a boxing match I assure you, but to tell Joe America was in his corner. Still it was a segregated corner and even a knock out blow to Germany's symbol of superiority would not integrate America for African Americans...yet!
Max arrived back the US with a cadre of Nazi party officials in June of 1938 and the German press was saying that when Max knocked out the "black man" the prize money would be used to build more tanks in Germany. Max and his gang were holed up in a Midtown hotel and the anti-nazi forces picketed all day and night long. Then the big night...June 22, 1938 and both of these political pawns with brawn stepped into the ring in Yankee Stadium before a crowd of over 50,000 fight happy patrons. It was carried on radio around the world and in as every concievable language on the planet. Joe weighed in at 198 and Max at 193, a fairly comparable match-up. The bell rang, the fighters jockeyed for position in the center of the ring and in just over 2 minutes..Hitler lost his tank money as Joe tanked Max battering him and knocking him down three times. The Max Camp threw in the towel...and it was all over for Nazi aggression, at least in the confines of the ring. The real Nazi agression would come in September of 1939 when the bell would ring and war broke out, although the war lasted more than 2 minutes..the end result was the same. Hitler had to bite the bullet..literally! Sore loosers do not champions make!
During the war, Joe did serve and after the hostilities continued his boxing career. In later years thanks to bad management and cheats he was now in debt to the tax man as his managers had managed to chew off the lions share of Joes profits. Joe was also soon using cocaine adn by 1969 his health was failing. Joe died in 1981 and is buried, appropriately in Arlington National Cemetary, not far the grave of another American war hero...Lee Marvin. I managed to see both graves and when I saw Joe's, all I could think of was all the sports events I had witnessed in my hometown of Detroit. Where? At the Joe Louis Arena of course!
The Bareknuckle Boxing World of John L. Sullivan by Mike Marino
The world of 19th Century bareknuckle boxing was one hell of a colorful era with a smorgasbord of nefarious characters straight out of central casting in Hollywood. Here you would find sinners, saints, fighters, hookers, gamblers, saloons, smokey bordellos and the vice and corruption usually found on the "wrong side of the tracks". The straight shooting street fighting six-gun shoot-outs of the old west on Gary Coopers "High Noon" mainstreet was just about out of ammo and had seen their day come and go in a blaze of glory and gunsmoke. As the century raced along, those days were fading like a southwestern sunset below the horizon of the wild west. The gunfighter and shootouts were being replaced gradually by the sport of boxing as the determining factor in the mano y mano competition of the day. Wyatt Earp, lawman of Tombstone fame was now a boxing referee in Southern California, and fellow lawman Bat Materson hung up his six-guns and was now plying his trade as a sports writer in New York City as the dawn of the 20th Century was fast approaching.
In the 19th Century, bareknuckle boxing was the undisputed choice for action of the boisterous sports fans, It offered plenty of opportunity to win big on betting, and it offered the audience plenty of blood and sweat and sometimes, even death in the ring. When you went down for the count in those days...sometimes you never got up to go to your corner but had a one ticket to ride to a grave six feet under instead. Bareknuckle boxing was not the "let's play by the rules" sport it is today with thick padded gloves, shorter rounds and doctors on hand along with the fighters entourage of support and help. No amigos, it was a pretty much a free-for-all with a winner take all attitude. Oh sure, it has it's rules that were formulated as the London Prize Ring Rules for bareknuckle boxing, which in turn can trace it's lineage to the world of Colliseum combat sports popular during the age of the Roman and Greek Empires. It was boxing in it's purest form, skin to skin, no padding and pulling of punches. The only thing separating it from a street gang brawl is the simple fact that ...well, it had rules...sort of. The style allowed by The London Rules were eventually replaced by the Marquis de Queensbury rules that we are more familiar with today with padded gloves, shorter rounds, and you don't have kill your opponent in order to secure the win! There is less blood today as well, which in the golden era before the Golden Gloves, was probably as much of a draw as the fight itself! The first set of London Rules were originally drafted during the light of a punch drunk day in 1743 in England and were put into practice in the 1830's, revised in 1853 and were the bible of boxing until replaced by the Marquess of Queensberry rules around 1867. In effect and I quote from the early rules: "you must not fight simply to win; no holds barred is not the way; you must win by the rules".
The first official bareknuckle champion on record was named in 1719, and the longest on-record bareknuckle fight lasted over six hours of punching and jabbing that went the distance for 17 grueling rounds in the ring down-under in Australia in 1855. By the way the winner was an Aussie named James Kelly who beat another Aussie named Smith. Remember too, this is Australia where anything goes and they have had matches between a human fighter and kangaroos! Dunno of the roo's wore gloves or not and they do pack a powerful roo punch and kick too! Now, if your looking for the oldman of the bareknuckle ring, look no further than to bare-knuckle champ Jem Mace. Although he wasn't champ when he hit retirement, he holds the record for longevity fighting for over 35 years and put his bare-knuckle fists into retirement in 1909 at the age of 79!
Every boxing era has it's superstar rock star and in the 19th Century it was the flambouyant and handy with his fists, John L. Sullivan, the Boston Strong Boy as he was known, and certainly earned and deserved that title. He, along with Gentleman Jim Corbett set the standard for the boxing world of class and brash which translated into championships and cash! It's was all about the ego as much as it was for the prize money to these prize fighters. Step in the ring with John L. and you were taking your life into your own hands. He holds two positions in the boxing world today that will never be matched or broken. Sullivan managed to become the last bareknuckle heavyweight champion as the London Rules were now superceded by the new Queensbury Rules, and was the first heavyweight champion of gloved boxing. He is also the first American athlete to earn over $1,000,000! (He won over 450 bouts in his career!)
Sullivan was born in Boston in 1858 and was the first generation of his family born in America. As a young man, he discovered his skill with his fists and engaged in illegal bouts with other competitors and as it was an illegal practice, it was inevitable that he would be arrested for it on a few occasions but was merely slapped on the wrist and let go with a sly wink of the eye of the authorities. Sure it was illegal, but you can't stop a government employee on low wages to let a good bet get by him and the chance to win big to fill his bucket full of beer. Sullivan had racked up an impressive series of local wins and the time was ripe to take to the road, caravan style similar to the mid-20th Century Dick Clark Rock and Roll Caravan Shows. Instead of Buddy Holly and Little Richard along for this ride, Sulliivan gathered a small but powerful punching group of other boxers that took to the road in search of challengers in 1883. It was a grueling trip and schedule by any standard that included almost 200 bouts in over 100 American cities. Sullivan, being the promoter he was offered to fight anyone at any time under the new Queesbury Rules for a prize purse of $250 which was a lot of greenback for the day.
The tale gets murky now when trying to determine his heavy weight titles. Was in in 1882 when he won in the ring againsts Paddy Ryan in Mississippi or in 1889 when he beat Jake Kilrain in the 75th round of an 80 round fight? The Kilrain fight is the most historically interesting in the fact that it was the last world title fight under the fading London Rules and signalled the end of the bareknuckle title bouts, and recived national coverage...in spite of the fact there was no ESPN network! OVer 3,000 fans packed packed the arena, standing room only near Hattiesburg, Mississippi. The opening round bell rang after 10 p.m. and at first the crowd were stunned when Sullivan, suffering from the cumulative effect of hard drinking and carousing began to vomit in the ring half-way through the 80 scheduled rounds. Miraculously he got a second wind, perhaps the gods were in a good mood that night, and Sullivan pummeled Kilrain repeatedly until the Kilrain camp, literally threw in the towel in the 75th round.
Today, the fighters like most athletes, stick to a program of exercise, diet, and routine workouts all in an effort to be at the top of their game. Sullivan, like baseballs Babe Ruth decades later, lived life to the fullest, smoking cigars, drinking in bars until all hours and of course taking advantage of his celebrity in the boxing arena to make further conquests in the hotel bedrooms with a plethora of female boxing groupies while on the road on tour. Many was the night that Sullivans manager would have to search for him in local bars and brothels the night before a big match. Boxing, Booze and Brothels - The Breakfast of Champions! Sullivan was the undeated and undisputed heavy weight champ of the world.
He was basking in the boxing spotlight and didn't take on title challengers until 1892 when the gauntlet was thrown down by a young upstart by the name of Gentleman Jim Corbett. Dashing and full of fire he was the new contender on the block that had all the makings of a champion. The fight was finalized and the bout took place in New Orleans at 9 p.m. under electric lights, a novelty at the time. The crowd is estimated at over 10,000 persons shelling out hard earned money to witness this fight of fights, and to place a friendly wager or two with the eager bookies who stood around like buzzards on roadkill on a highway. This was to be under the Queensbury rules, of which Sullivan was already the champ. This was for the title..winner take all. Corbett, the youngster was fast on his feet and when it came to dodging blows he easily eluded Sullivans attempts to flatten him out in the early rounds. In the 21st round it happened..the world of boxing came to a breath holding standstill as Corbett delivered a left hook that became the boxing equivilent of the shot heard 'round the world putting Sullivan down on the canvas where he didn't survive the 10 count. When he finally got to his feet the crowd became silent, Sullivan shook Corbetts hand and said "I'm glad I was licked by an American!"
The great John L. finally retired and except for a few exhibition matches, did not fight for a title again. He had already made history and a lot of money and nothing else to prove to world, or especially to himself. He now diversified his career as baseball ump, sports reporter and of course, completely in character, as a bar/saloon owner. Lets face it Sullivan was at home the fighting ring, but equally at home in the enveloping ambiance af a saloon. He fought his last fight, an exhibition one of two rounds against Jim McCormick in 1905 in my home state of Michigan.
The Sullivan Legend lives on even though he passed away in 1919, at the age of 59 in poor health from years of drinking and fightng, a combiniation that will unquestionablty take it's toll and bring down the largest of champs. John L. Sullivan was no exception. He is buried in Boston, and was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1990. He led the path of boxing from the old era of bareknuckle boxing into the 2oth Century and the new age of boxing with it's new breed of champions such as Jack Dempsey...Primo Carnera...Muhammed Ali...George Foreman and so many others. John L. Sullivan - The Boston Strongboy..a champ for all seasons!