Blood, Sweat And… Poems

By Sharm de Alwis

Mohamed Ali a.k.a Louisville Lip might well be the Poet Laureate of the boxing fraternity but gems of wit and wisdom have been mouthed by quite a few others who trade in cauliflower ears.
My own favourite is that of Max Baer when he met ‘Man Mountain’ Primo Carnera and a double knock-down resulted for Baer to quip, “first up is a sissy.’’ Max Baer had the finest physical equipment any pugilist could wish for but he never took boxing seriously even though he, like Carnera, wore the heavy-weight crown briefly.
“Where’s mah yellow streak now, Tahmmy?” would taunt Jack Johnson as he played with champion Tommy Burns like a cat with a ball of knitting wool. Jake La Motta’s “I met Sugar Ray so often that I nearly got diabetes” is, certainly, pure posh and ranks with the best of George Bernard Shaw or of Oscar Wilde. La Motta was not even of Irish stock.
Mohammed Ali would also jibe opponents before and during the fight. He would label Sonny Liston as the ‘Ugly Bear’ and often gave deadly predictions in rhyming two-liners as to when the fight would end with the opponent on the canvas.
‘Thrilla in Manila’  and ‘Rumble in the Jungle’’ are his compositions. His repertoire was not confined to opponents alone. With his title confiscated and he barred from the ring for his conscientious stand against enlisting in the US Army, his  defence was ‘I got no quarrel against them Vietcong.’
Light-weight champ Jimmy Carter’s own description of his glove artistry was “They call me in-fighter, they call me come-out fighter, but maahn, if you want to know, I am a street fighter – the best you ever saw.”
Sam Langford, even though he had gone semi blind, when he was to battle Iron Hague, would say, “I don’t need to see him; just let me feel him and the man will hit the canvas.” In his earlier days he had given Jack Johnson such a torrid time in 1906 that Johnson never gave him a fight when he was champ. Sam McVey and Joe Jeanette were also studiously avoided by the champ even though he thought he was the cat’s whiskers.
Now and then fists did the talking. The tight lipped Joe Louis made only one comment in his long and illustrious career and that was prior to his second bout with Joe Walcott who had earlier gone 15 rounds. Louis only said, “Wait for it, Mr. Walcott” and Walcott was carried out in the 11th round. With Joe Louis, Joe Walcott and Ezzard Charles whipping up frenzy within and without the ring, the question reporters asked was, “Why did Marciano have to come along and spoil everything?”  With the shortest reach of 67 inches that any heavyweight champion ever had, he demolished his opponents with his right hand which he adoringly called ‘Suzy Q’ and retired undefeated.
James Figg, the first champion of England was illiterate but had artistic admirers. Byron was not only a keen follower of the sport, he had his own gym and a coterie of trainers despite the fact that he was afflicted with a club foot.
The first fight reporter was Homer (around 1,100 BC) who described in the Iliad the battle between Epheus and Enryalus when the winner’s prize was a mule and to the loser was given a drinking cup.
The poem, translated by Alexander Poe ended with “The bleeding hero pants upon the ground.”
The advent of Jack Dempsey in to Boxing in 1918 heralded drama, poetry in motion and the million dollar gate. A man more given to deeds than words when he was asked if he could have beaten Joe Louis, only said, “I saw something.” That ‘something’ was Joe’s innate inability to avoid a low right hand punch which all his opponents from the lighter Tommy Farr and Billy Conn to Schmelling to Walcott exposed and exploited.
Boxing gloves and the new era of the sport were the brain child of the Marquis of Queensberry, the main character of the horrific tale of Oscar Wilde and his imprisonment which evoked “The Ballad of Reading Jail.” Kumar Sangakkara is not the only sportsman who has a fondness for literature. Gene Tunney who dethroned Jack Dempsey when he was rusty after three years of inactivity was an avid reader of the classics. Kingsley Moonamalle, Trinity’s Bog House Shelley, who won the Best Boxer’s Cup at several Open Meets was soul-stirred on viewing Justin Deraniyagala’s ‘The Nude’ and penned a poem all of which I censor except:
“ Shakespeare miscalled it the Act of Darkness”…. “Indeed That in my need I might spill my seed Creatively with genius like you Like Poe,  Who will disturb for a hundred years and more….” Countless portraits and studies have been made of boxer and the sport from “The Fighting John L’ [Sullivan] to Lord Byron in the gym by deft artists and some inspired songs like The Kid’s Last Fight.
There have been boxers who were stage actors like John L.Sullivan whose appearances would result in full houses and, to a lesser degree, James J.Corbett (both world champions in their day). Some have inspired the cinema industry. Rocky Garciano’s life is depicted in Somebody Up There Loves Me and he was a regular celebrity in Martha Ray’s Tv show. Tom Hickman, the ‘Gasman’ , a whirlwind puncher, is featured in William Hazlitt’s classic, The Fight. Boxing, being a manly sport has had the paradox of girly names of some pugilists — Cinderella Man was James Braddock, Orchid Kid was Gorgeous Carpentier who was also dubbed Gorgeous Georges. Tiger Flowers and the two Sugar Rays were anything but sweet.
All in all boxing is a sport that spreads its aura far beyond the ropes and punch drunk as some pugilists have been, quite a few have sipped and supped at the fount of knowledge.