I have watched very little footage of Joe Frazier. I know that he was one of the greatest boxers of all time, but only because it's something I generally know as sports fan, not because of any exhaustive research or personal opinions. He was the first man to defeat Ali, but I remember them more in their later years, taking jabs at each other through the press. My most vivid memory of him in the ring is when he was introduced at the start of the first Rocky-Creed fight. This is why it might seem weird when I tell you that Joe Frazier is my favorite boxer of all time, and that his passing left me saddened and feeling somehow different.
The thing that I will remember most about him was his nickname, Smokin' Joe Frazier. When I was about 5 years old, I heard his introduction to the ring, and I honestly don't remember anything else about that moment. Logically, I'm assuming my father was watching some sort of boxing match that was showing highlights of general boxing history or specifically from Joe Frazier's career. It didn't matter. "Smokin' Joe Frazier" latched itself into my still developing mind, and just like that I was shouting it in every room of my house daily. When I saw pictures or him wearing green (my favorite color) trunks in The Fight of the Century, it was settled then and there. No boxer would ever dethrone Joe as the greatest in my mind.
I've followed boxing somewhat half-heartedly since I was a kid, watching Tyson demolish opponents who were never actually that good, before ruining his own career and eventually revealing that he was never that good of a boxer in the first place. The most exciting fight in my lifetime was seeing George Foreman, a man I knew for being a goofy, friendly guy with his own grill and starring in muffler commercials, suddenly remind everyone that he was once a brutal and punishing man while becoming the oldest champion the sport has ever seen. Since then, (and possibly before), the sport has been in decline, particularly in the heavyweight division. There has been a lack of true superstars, and the titleholders have mostly been whoever happened to be there at the time. (The exception right now, of course, is the ongoing non-fight between Mayweather and Pacquiao, a fight that would most likely shatter ratings records. You know, if it ever happened.) This, combined with the rise of UFC and mixed martial arts, has pushed boxing to the back of the national sports consciousness.
Even in my own quasi-disinterested sort of way, I've always preferred boxing to MMA. I know I'm wrong about this, and that any fan of MMA would shout at me for hours with the reasons I am wrong, but MMA fights lack any real excitement and technique to me. Sure, this guy trained with this master of whatever, and that guy lived with a guru in the art of that other thing, and one punches a bit more while the other kicks a bit more, but 9 times out of 10, they just end up rolling around on the mat trying to bend their opponent's limbs in ways they aren't supposed to until the other taps out. Boxing can be equally mindless, but there is something about it that can (but doesn't always) transcend that savage brutality. Sometimes, it's not about the training or the skill of the two boxers, but it's about their will, something that made the Ali-Frazier fights so incredible. It's about two men who want to destroy each other, knowing that they have to give everything they have to bring his opponent down, while dealing with the same coming back. It's the ultimate test of perseverance and strength, both mentally and physically.
I wish there were more boxers that could push the sport to those levels, but not just for that reason. I miss sitting with my father and grandfather, watching two men trying to punch there way through one another, and then talking about the grace and intricacy of such an act. I want to see two men bring the absolute best out of one another, which is really one of the greatest things sports can allow us to witness. I suspect over the next couple of days, I'll watch clips of Joe Frazier's fights, and I'll sit through the entire third battle with Ali, and even though I'll know it's coming, I'll be crushed when Frazier's corner throws in the towel before the final round, his trainer realizing that Frazier couldn't see out of his eyes because his face was too swollen. And then I'll think about his green trunks, and his cool nickname, and I'll feel like I'm 5 years old again. And that will make me happy. And then I'll remember that he's gone.
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