Floyd Patterson: A Boxer and a Gentleman; Alan H. Levy; McFarland & Co.; 2008.
Posted on | July 7, 2009 | No Comments
By: Patrick McElligott
The book is well-written. It is said that boxing is the most difficult sport to write about. Levy is a professor of history at Slippery Rock University, who takes on one of the most fascinating chapters in sports’ history, and does it justice. It is a thoughtful book, as the author followed Patterson’s career closely, and that comes through on every page. The topics Levy examines are important to the boxing community, and he approaches them in a manner that Floyd Patterson and the reader deserve.
While I give this book the highest grade possible, it does not mean that I agree with all of Levy’s opinions. Nor would he want any reader to, for if two people think exactly alike, it simply means that only one of the two is actually thinking. Thus, rather than a usual book review, I decided to offer the following interview/discussion between Professor Levy and myself.
Early in the interview, it became impossible for me to take exact notes on our conversation. Thus, since I did not record our discussion, the following is not going to be an exact copy of all that was said. But I think that after reading it, you will be inclined to buy his book. And, who knows? Perhaps in the future, Alan, Rich, and I could record a discussion for Fight News Unlimited.
I started our discussion by telling Alan my favorite Floyd Patterson story. In the 1970s, he would attend amateur cards in our area, often bringing members of his team. One evening in Owego, when I was in the locker room with my team, I had my hair down. (I’d put it in a pony tail when working corners, of course.) Floyd came up behind me, politely saying, “Uh, Ma’am, you can’t be in here.” When I turned around, he laughed and shook my hand, saying, “Sorry about that.” For years afterwards, any time I saw him, the Champ would get that same grin, and shake his head while we were shaking hands.
Now, for the interview.
PM: What influenced you to write this book?
AL: Two things. I had completed my second book on baseball, and was looking for a new topic. I was discussing this with a colleague – the idea of focusing on an area of sports’ history that has been overlooked. Bernard, who used to box, mentioned Floyd Patterson.
I had grown up watching Patterson fight. There were two good books already, Jack Newcombe’s 1961 biography, and Floyd’s 1962 autobiography. But both were published before some of Floyd’s most important fights, as well as his struggles outside the ring. There was a hole in sports literature for that period.
PM: Right, a big hole. I think that your book does an outstanding job of filling it in.
AL: Thank you.
PM: Did you ever meet Patterson, or attend his fights?
AL: I never had that pleasure. I’m 57 now, and so as a teen-aged boxing fan, I followed his career. I remember the excitement of his fights with Ingemar Johansson, and his later fights against Liston and Ali.
Floyd was still alive when I began researching the book. But when I learned about the extent of his difficulties, I realized that it was too late to interview him.
PM: During the course of your research, did your opinion of Patterson change?
AL: I learned things that surprised me. I didn’t realize at the time that after Ali knocked out Zora Folley, there were arrangements being made for a return bout with Patterson. I think that the speed in which all fifty states barred Ali from fighting again indicates that people at high levels in our government were involved.
PM: Right. Ali’s people had considered a few options after Folley. One was Oscar Bonavena, and another was Joe Frazier. Yank Durham wasn’t interested in rushing Frazier at that point.
AL: I also found that Patterson had ducked Frazier in that period of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Looking back, and considering the dementia he later suffered, it was probably a good thing that he didn’t fight Frazier. I think Joe would have hurt him, much in the manner that he did Jimmy Ellis in their fight.
PM: Accurate information on Cus D’Amato in the ‘50s and ‘60s is hard to find. My son once asked me why there isn’t a good biography on Cus. I said because the few associates that he trusted and liked back then didn’t tend to talk about him to the press, and so most of the information came from his enemies. Was it difficult for you to get a feel for D’Amato?
AL: I had to rely on what information was available. One difficulty was exactly what you mention. Perhaps his friends didn’t speak out, because they were aware that Cus’s enemies were as dangerous as he said they were. I attempted to provide the reader with as much information as possible, and leave it to the individual to do the “guess work” in evaluating the difference between D’Amato’s inner demons and his outer enemies.
The two people who probably could have provided the best description of Cus were Patterson and Jose Torres. Without that, you can only speculate. In a very real sense, the public perception speaks for itself on the impossibility of getting to know him.
PM: In the early ‘70s, when my oldest brother was fighting in the Golden Gloves in Troy, NY, I remember Cus was in the downstairs locker room. Eugene “Cyclone” Hart was with him. Hart was a blast to talk to; he was absolutely convinced in his ability to beat any other middleweight. And Cus was sitting quietly in a chair near a wall. I remember Hart asking if he wanted to go upstairs and watch some fights? And Cus said, “No. I can see everything I need to here.” He was evaluating fighters based on their behavior in the dressing room before they fought.
Our manager at the time was Carl Delberta, who knew Cus. When Carl and a few others were speaking with him, we took some photos. But I wasn’t comfortable enough to speak with D’Amato, and years later, other fighters that had been there told me they felt the same way.
AL: Interesting. Cus definitely had an amazing understanding of human nature. It was insight that he came to on his own, watching fighters’ behaviors in and out of the ring. Ali said that D’Amato was a genius.
I like your description of his being an intimidating presence, by simply being quiet at the side of the room. That is part of his understanding of human nature, I think. He didn’t want to deal with many people. He wanted to concentrate on finding the fighters with the most potential for him to develop, and he really didn’t have many unsuccessful ones in that period.
PM: I remember an article in Sports Illustrated, telling about how Cus had placed a chain and lock around his refrigerator while he trained Buster Mathis.
AL: Mathis was a much more skilled fighter than he was given credit for. The press turned on him after the loss to Frazier in the pro’s. But he had very real talent as a boxer.
PM: Definitely. The press helps make or break fighters, in the way they mold the public’s perception of fighters, especially after a defeat. That actually leads to my next question. When reporters were saying Patterson should retire after he lost the title fight with Ali, one asked Sonny Liston for his opinion. Liston responded with a question of his own, “Who can tell a bird it can’t fly? Do you think that Liston has been treated fairly by the press?
AL: Sonny Liston is very much under-rated. Up until he lost the title, most sports writers were saying that he was invincible. And, other than against Ali, at that point, he probably was. But he lost to the man who would later be recognized as “The Greatest.”
PM: In my opinion, Ali is at the top level of the heavyweights, and Joe Louis and Sonny Liston are at the second level. Foreman, at his best, was close, but Louis and Liston were better.
AL: Liston had better boxing skills than champions like Dempsey or Marciano. Obviously, both of them had a puncher’s chance against anyone, at any point in a fight. Marciano beat great boxers like Walcott and Charles.
PM: The press called Walcott and Charles “old.” But actually, when Rocky beat them, they were not “old” in the sense that Louis was. Marciano deserves full credit for beating both of them.
AL: Yes, he does. Marciano could compete against the larger heavyweights, as well, because of his strength and murderous power.
PM: My friend Rubin Carter knew Liston, from when he briefly was a sparring partner in Philly.
AL: Carter sparred Liston?
PM: Once. He said that afterwards, when he took off his headgear, his ear was bleeding. He said that he knew he had to leave Philly, because if he sparred Liston again, he risked permanent injury or death. (Note: When Rubin was the studio guest on ESPN FNF a few years back, I asked him to describe his experiences with Liston. )
AL: As Marty Marshall said, when Liston hit you anywhere, “it hurt all over.”
PM: Rubin and Jose Torres both spoke of Liston being a good man. But the press would not allow that to come through. They wouldn’t give him credit for trying to change from his hoodlum past.
AL: True. Liston was complex. He had inner demons from his violent childhood. He grew up in a sad and dangerous world. When he tried to leave that behind, after winning the title, the writers wouldn’t allow it. I think he reacted with almost an, “I’ll show you” attitude after losing the title, when he allowed himself to be surrounded by low-lifes.
The depression Liston experienced after the loses to Ali isn’t fully appreciated by boxing fans. He was reduced from being invincible to being an ex-champion who never came close to fully regaining his skills after the second loss.
But in Sonny Liston, we find boxing’s existential question: what is it about this sport, far more so than any other, that attracts those known as “mobsters,” and other assorted low-life influences? The same type of people who prey on ignorant kids in poor neighborhoods follow them when they try to find success in the ring. Of course, it is partly because of the big money that is involved. But there is more to it.
PM: No sport has as strong a correlation with politics as boxing. Your book focuses on the politics of the 1960s, and the role that heavyweight champions played. Do you think that Ali was right to refuse to be drafted?
AL: Ali was the strongest voice among athletes in that decade. Patterson provided a counter-balance to Ali.
My opinion of Ali shifted between the ages of 15 and 18. I obviously knew that he was a unique talent from the first time I saw him fight. But when the draft became an issue, I was still fundamentally with the country. I knew he was the best boxer, but I did not fully support his position on the draft at that time.
When I became a college student – and draft age – I began to see the issues differently. Although I wasn’t able to articulate my feelings at the time, Ali was creating a different level of awareness. There really wasn’t another black militant capable of communicating in that way at the time.
Malcolm X was dead, and others lacked his skills. For example, Stokely Carmichael was asked for his opinion on women’s position in the movement? He said, “Prone.” That communicates a sense of narcissistic entitlement that Ali never conveyed. Outside of the competitive world of boxing, Ali treated every individual with a level of respect. That is what allowed the majority of Americans to actually listen to him, and to eventually accept that he was correct in his position on the draft.
PM: In his book “Cosell,” Howard Cosell states that in 1968, he came to the conclusion that Patterson’s being “the perfect gentleman” and “the gracious loser” was a “posture.” What do you think?
AL: I think that Cosell was looking for Patterson to behave like the boxer Cosell wanted him to be. It’s as if Cosell believed that if Floyd had more snarl, he wouldn’t have lost to Ellis. But almost everyone was convinced that Patterson had actually won that fight, no one more so than Cosell. So it’s something akin to post facto rationalization, a backward twisting of logic, on Howard’s part.
PM: Maybe what Cosell mistook for posturing was the way that Patterson had come to deal with his past.
AL: Patterson had his demons in life, but he had already dealt with them.
PM: Better the gentleman, than being bitter and complaining. Reporters did not treat Mike Tyson respectfully when he was in his angry phases of his career. They focused on those demons.
What do you consider to be Floyd’s greatest accomplishments, both in and out of the ring?
AL: His biggest accomplishment in the ring was regaining the title. He had to overcome being physically and psychologically annihilated. Coming back from that type of loss was extremely difficult.
As a man, I’d go back to his terrible experiences as a child. Not just the extreme poverty, but the manner in which he processed it, and his self-image as a kid. He overcame that, and after becoming champion, he returned to help the troubled youth who were in the same position he had been in.
PM: One area where I have disagreements with the book is in regard to his position in the rankings of great champions.
AL: It would be difficult for me, in the context of being the author of this book, to say he was in the top 10 or top 20. People will always disagree, and some might dismiss the important parts of the book by saying that I was writing it as a fan, or taking Floyd’s side. I try to be neutral on that issue, because it can’t be resolved. How good were his boxing skills? Good enough to become heavyweight champion twice. I think that he was similar in many ways to Ezzard Charles.
PM: Ezzard Charles was, in my opinion, the greatest amateur boxer ever. He won every tournament that he entered. He would have won the light heavyweight title, too, if it hadn’t been for the war.
AL: Okay, but because everyone has a right to their opinion, I might say that the Cuban Teofilo Stevenson was the greatest amateur ever. But we can’t debate that based on if the two fought as amateurs, because of the huge difference in size.
It’s fun to debate who could beat who in imaginary “super fights.” But it’s still fantasy. All we are left with is what really happened – including the good and the bad. I tried to balance these in my book.
PM: Okay, then, a final question. In an imaginary “super fight” between Roy Jones, Jr., and Floyd Patterson, who wins?
AL: Well, maybe the better question is: who in boxing is a better example to follow, both in and out of the ring? Because that is really the very best thing that the sport of boxing has to offer society – the quality of the men who box. There are great examples of men who were strong enough inside, and practiced self-discipline to the extent that they transcended the troubled conditions they suffered as children.
Years ago, when I worked at a camp for youth, an ex-boxer from the Binghamton area would come and talk to the kids. He was able to earn their trust, and instill a sense of hope in them. There is something about boxers that helps them communicate on this level with kids.
Now, which fighter would I pick? I’d go with that champion who used to march with Martin Luther King, Jr.
Tags: book > Boxing > Floyd Patterson > Golden Gloves > history > Jack Newcombe > PATRICK MCELLIGOTT > politics > Slippery Rock University