Talking boxing
One of my favourite parts of coaching is talking boxing with my clients. I'm lucky to have some knowledgeable pugilistic enthusiasts on my roster.
On of the main conversation starters is the artwork on my gym walls. Some of the greatest fighters in history adorn the walls where we practice the noble art. Discussions often turn to favourite fighters and contests, past present and future. We will often visit the old hypotheticals of how boxers of one era would fare in another.
Sometimes, I get to hear about first hand encounters with very famous boxers. Like the client's grandfather who met Joe Louis in a Newcastle nightclub. I had heard the stories of Sonny Liston and Muhammad Ali visiting the North East, but never the Brown Bomber.
A quick web search confirmed that, yes — Joe visited Newcastle on a cabaret tour in the mid 60's. I found a photograph of him sharing a table with the Kray twins in the old La Dolce Vita nightclub.
These stories fascinate me. As on old-school boxing enthusiast, I can't get enough of them.
Today, the meet and greet industry offers a sterile experience. The grip and grin selfie op doesn't offer a personable interaction. It's all a bit soulless for my liking. But an impromptu chat with — for me — the greatest heavyweight of all time? In a Newcastle night spot, bang in the middle of the swinging sixties? Now that is the spice of life.
Imagine shaking the hand of the man who fought Max Schmeling in 1938. A man who carried the expectations of the free world in a contest that transcended sport. A spontaneous encounter and conversation with a titan of the 20th century. A memory like that will always trump a posed, paid for picture.
I'm not one for memorabilia, so much. Especially something as impersonal as a signature — nowadays one of many hundreds. But I can confess to owning a signed Willie Pep picture, gifted to me by a friend years back. I often look at that picture and marvel. The hands that landed on the chin of Sandy Saddler once touched the print that now sits in my office.
It's a tenuous link to a bygone era. A simpler time where our sporting heroes had a more natural bond with the people who paid to watch them. I wonder if the modern day fighter will inspire such reverie in sixty years time.
It makes me happy that these legends still exist in the boxing zeitgeist. Discussing them with my friends is always a real pleasure.
