COMMISSIONER’S CORNER Notes from The War By Randy Gordon
J ust like that, it was time to head to the makeshift arena at Caesars Palace. I had been there almost three years earlier for the Larry Holmes- Gerry Cooney bout and just over three and a half years prior for Sugar Ray Leonard-Thomas Hearns I. Now here I was for the middleweight championship bout between Marvin Hagler and Thomas Hearns, along with the secret Emanuel Steward had told me. Then came Chuck Hull’s introductions: “Introducing, in the red corner, the challenger, the WBC super welterweight champion, fighting out of Detroit, Michigan, weighing 159 and three-quarter pounds, his pro record is 40 wins, one defeat with 34 KOs. Ladies and gentlemen, here is Thomas ‘The Hitman’ Hearns!” Hearns, in his bright yellow Kronk trunks with HEARNS emblazoned across the waistband in red, stretched, bowed to the crowd and threw his hands victoriously skyward. I could hear my heart pounding. Then Hull continued: “And in the blue corner, fighting out of Brockton, Massachusetts, weighing 159 and one quarter pounds, with a professional record of 60 wins, two defeats, two draws and 50 KOs … Ladies and gentlemen, the undisputed middleweight champion of the world … Marvelous (pause) Marvin (pause) Hagler!” The referee was one of the best in boxing, Nevada’s own Richard Steele. The judges – whom we were all sure wouldn’t be needed – were Harry Gibbs, Herb Santos and Dick Young (unrelated to the sportswriter). At the bell, Hearns walked toward mid-ring and quickly circled to his left. Hagler came out boxing as a southpaw, something we all wondered if he would do. Almost immediately, he threw a hard right hook at Hearns, which missed. He came back immediately with a straight left to the body. Hearns fired sharp jabs at Hagler, who was staying low and moving his
The food fight ended minutes later when one of those missiles – a slice of chocolate cake – caused some collateral damage: an angry female flight attendant who was trying to stop the confectionery carnage. THWACK! The cake hit her right between the eyes! She headed straight to the cockpit. Then came an announcement: “This is the captain! If there is no immediate ceasefire (you could tell he was masking a laugh), I will be forced to make an immediate emergency landing at the nearest airport.” Sugar, Katz, Young and the rest of the food-throwers immediately resumed eating what was left of their desserts. A few hours later, we landed in Las Vegas. You’ve never seen so many happy flight attendants! A shower, a change of clothes and a walk to the hotel bar came next for seemingly every sportswriter who was on the flight. We also met up with many other top boxing writers, including the San Francisco Chronicle’s Jack Fiske, the L.A. Times’ Jim Murray, the Las Vegas Sun’s Royce Feour, the Boston Herald’s George Kimball, and Mike Downey of the Detroit Free Press. We talked boxing, had drinks, and talked some more boxing. Who would win, Hagler or Hearns? And why? The vote seemed to be split. Suddenly all eyes turned to me. I felt the gaze of seemingly every great columnist and boxing writer in America. What was wrong? I spun around on my barstool. Standing just to my left was Thomas Hearns’ great manager and trainer, Emanuel Steward, who was playfully sneaking up on me. As soon as I noticed him, we embraced. “I see who you’re rooting for,” said the AP’s Ed Schuyler. While that wasn’t the case, I had become very close with Steward during my years at The Ring. In fact, he was instrumental in helping me set up the cover-shot photo session with
Hearns, the one that became known as “The Hitman” cover. “Remember what I told you around a year ago?” Steward whispered to me. I thought for a moment. “Tommy’s quick start,” he whispered. I smiled and nodded my head. “Anything you can share with us?” inquired Katz. “Manny just said you have some food stuck in your beard!” I replied. It was at a one-on-one lunch I had with Steward in 1983 that Steward disclosed how much he wanted Hearns to face Hagler. At the time, Hearns was the Ring/WBC junior middleweight champion but rarely fought as a middleweight. “Hagler can’t outbox Tommy, he’s nowhere near as quick as Tommy, and certainly doesn’t carry Tommy’s explosive power,” Steward told me at that lunch. “How would you fight Hagler?” I asked. Steward smiled. “Randy, I’m going to tell you something. Please don’t put this in The Ring or talk about it on television. If the fight happens, I want it to be a surprise.” I looked at Steward. “Promise?” he spoke. “I promise,” I replied, nodding my head. “If the fight ever happens, we’re coming out fast, guns blazing. It’s not something Marvin will ever expect,” Steward told me. “Keep in mind, Marvin’s got a great chin,” I responded. “Lots of guys have great chins,” Steward replied. “Nobody has ever hit him the way Tommy is gonna hit him. There’s only one Thomas Hearns right hand! We are coming out fast and making him taste Tommy’s power early.” Point taken. After Steward told me their fight plan, he put his right index finger to his lips. I understood. I kept his words to myself.
A pril 15, 1985. On that mid- April night in Las Vegas, two middleweights gave us something exquisite, something unforgettable. It was something these eyes had never seen before – and something they probably never will again. Even the trip to Las Vegas from New York was memorable. On that flight were some of the greatest boxing writers ever to use a typewriter (remember, in 1985, none of us had laptops). There was Mike Katz, Bert Sugar, Barney Nagler, Dave Anderson, Pat Putnam, Dick Young, Budd Schulberg, Mike Marley and so many other veterans. If you are too young to remember who any of them were, I am giving you an assignment: Look them up!
In a brief, all-out war, Hagler and Hearns traded their sublime skills for stunning savagery.
As I sat in my home office to write this month’s column, my eyes were drawn to a collage of photos on my wall. One in particular stood out. It was of me and Marvelous Marvin Hagler, taken in Canastota, New York, during the International Boxing Hall of Fame Induction Weekend in 2018. I stared at the photo and smiled, thinking of many special moments I had spent with the Marvelous One, interviewing him, photographing him, even running on the beach with him in Cape Cod. As I stared at the photo, I realized another anniversary of his great fight against Thomas Hearns was upon us. But it’s not just another anniversary. It’s the 40th anniversary. I decided to dedicate this column to that very special event.
Somewhere in mid-flight, Bert Sugar got into a loud, heated discussion with Dick Young – who was seated a few rows in front of us – over who would win the fight, and why. Neither man would back down. Finally, Sugar threw a piece of cheesecake at Young. Young tossed it back. It missed Sugar and hit Mike Katz, who was sitting behind us. Cheesecake was all over his scruffy, black beard. Katz pulled the cheesecake pieces out of his beard and flung them all over the plane. Within seconds, an all-out high school-like food fight was underway.
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