Today, I was feeling a little crappy about things. Nothing major. Nothing life-altering. Just crappy. Had a crappy time getting out of bed this morning. Had a crappy run over the lunch hour. Followed that up with a crappy lunch. I just had a crappy feeling hanging over my head most of the day. It happens to everyone now and again. But then something intervened, as things often will if you're paying attention. I heard an interview on the radio on the way back to work with a sports writer named Mark Kriegel, a guy who has written a book called "The Good Son: The Life of Ray "Boom Boom" Mancini ." I like Kriegel's stuff. I like his style and approach. He previously wrote a book I read and like a great deal about Pistol Pete Maravich, who next to Dr. J, is probably my favorite all-time basketball player. Kriegel also hosts a show for Fox Sports called Barfly that I like a lot. Maybe because I like bars and sports, and I really like when those two things come together. So, I'm expecting big things from his book on Mancini.
For the uninitiated, Mancini was a great, great boxer in the early 1980s, probably the golden era of boxing in this country. Back then you could see nearly all the big fights on network television, including a lot of live fights featuring the greats like Ali, Foreman, Frazier, Norton, Duran, Hearns, Hagler, Sugar Ray, etc. Those you didn't see live, you could likely catch the following week or sometime after on Wide World of Sports with Howard Cosell calling the action. Back then, boxing was full of characters, guys like Randall "Tex" Cobb. Guys like James Scott, a contender who would fight from within Rahway Prison where he was incarcerated. You could see the great Earnie Shavers, a scary as hell puncher who was the precursor to Mike Tyson. Hell, arguably the greatest fight I ever witnessed was Aaron Pryor vs. Alexis Arguello, which took place on a hot Miami night and which I watched on my TV as a kid without shelling out $65 for the pay per view right to do so.
Mancini wasn't my favorite fighter, but I watched him fight many times. He was a continual underdog, and he was famous for his big and mighty heart in the ring. He was also noted because of his relationship with his father, who was a contender in his own day and was in his son's corner. My favorite Mancini fight was with Arguello, which Mancini lost. He later won the lightweight title from Arturo Frias, who pummeled Mancini early on but who couldn't put him away.
Despite becoming a world champion when few people ever expected as much, Mancini later became most moted for his fight with Duk Koo Kim, whom died in the ring. The fight was a war. Literally, a war between two men. I remember watching the rounds unfold, and I remember thinking at the time, "this is scary brutal." In the next to last round, Kim went unconscious and never would wake. Eventually, his family took him off of life support. Kriegel's book picks up the story all these years later, detailing what has occurred in Mancini's life since, but just as importantly, what has occurred with Kim's family, including his son, wife, and mother.
As I listened to Kriegel on the radio describe how the Mancini family and Kim family came together recently to share time, including sharing a meal to honor Kim, suddenly, my crappy day didn't seem so crappy.
Imagine killing another man in the name of sport. Imagine living with that the rest of your days. Imagine being a son having to grow up without a father, knowing how he died. Why he died. Knowing there's a possibility it could have been prevented. Knowing that millions of people had watched his father literally beaten to death. Knowing that his father might have died needlessly, but he died doing what he most likely loved. Imagine the baggage those people carry around each day. Real baggage. Really pain and hurt. Real loss. Yeah, suddenly, my crappy little run and crappy little lunch felt and tasted pretty good.
Sometimes, I get a little pissed at myself for bemoaning the trivial. I am thankful, however, that when something pops up to remind me that in actuality I'm pretty lucky, I recognize it and let it take hold.
For the uninitiated, Mancini was a great, great boxer in the early 1980s, probably the golden era of boxing in this country. Back then you could see nearly all the big fights on network television, including a lot of live fights featuring the greats like Ali, Foreman, Frazier, Norton, Duran, Hearns, Hagler, Sugar Ray, etc. Those you didn't see live, you could likely catch the following week or sometime after on Wide World of Sports with Howard Cosell calling the action. Back then, boxing was full of characters, guys like Randall "Tex" Cobb. Guys like James Scott, a contender who would fight from within Rahway Prison where he was incarcerated. You could see the great Earnie Shavers, a scary as hell puncher who was the precursor to Mike Tyson. Hell, arguably the greatest fight I ever witnessed was Aaron Pryor vs. Alexis Arguello, which took place on a hot Miami night and which I watched on my TV as a kid without shelling out $65 for the pay per view right to do so.
Mancini wasn't my favorite fighter, but I watched him fight many times. He was a continual underdog, and he was famous for his big and mighty heart in the ring. He was also noted because of his relationship with his father, who was a contender in his own day and was in his son's corner. My favorite Mancini fight was with Arguello, which Mancini lost. He later won the lightweight title from Arturo Frias, who pummeled Mancini early on but who couldn't put him away.
Despite becoming a world champion when few people ever expected as much, Mancini later became most moted for his fight with Duk Koo Kim, whom died in the ring. The fight was a war. Literally, a war between two men. I remember watching the rounds unfold, and I remember thinking at the time, "this is scary brutal." In the next to last round, Kim went unconscious and never would wake. Eventually, his family took him off of life support. Kriegel's book picks up the story all these years later, detailing what has occurred in Mancini's life since, but just as importantly, what has occurred with Kim's family, including his son, wife, and mother.
As I listened to Kriegel on the radio describe how the Mancini family and Kim family came together recently to share time, including sharing a meal to honor Kim, suddenly, my crappy day didn't seem so crappy.
Imagine killing another man in the name of sport. Imagine living with that the rest of your days. Imagine being a son having to grow up without a father, knowing how he died. Why he died. Knowing there's a possibility it could have been prevented. Knowing that millions of people had watched his father literally beaten to death. Knowing that his father might have died needlessly, but he died doing what he most likely loved. Imagine the baggage those people carry around each day. Real baggage. Really pain and hurt. Real loss. Yeah, suddenly, my crappy little run and crappy little lunch felt and tasted pretty good.
Sometimes, I get a little pissed at myself for bemoaning the trivial. I am thankful, however, that when something pops up to remind me that in actuality I'm pretty lucky, I recognize it and let it take hold.
You've heard the Warren Zevon song, right? Not my favorite of his, but it's out there. :^)
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