By Thomas Gerbasi
Most of the time it doesn’t feel like 20 years.
It probably feels longer for Nigel Benn, a lifetime perhaps. Maybe the man dubbed the “Dark Destroyer” can’t remember what his existence was like before February 25, 1995, a night that produced his greatest victory and haunted him for years at the same time.
Yet the man he defeated that night in London for the WBC super middleweight championship, Gerald McClellan, doesn’t remember anything of the fight, an epic struggle that if not for its tragic ending would probably hold a place as one of the most dramatic title fights of all-time.
And it was. We can’t talk about it in this fashion as a great fight, not after McClellan suffered a brain injury in the bout that irrevocably altered his life. The ten rounds of sanctioned battle have turned into boxing’s dirty secret, a reminder of the dangers the sport holds every time the bell rings, but that most don’t want to address.
I’ve seen it firsthand. When McClellan was brought to New York in 2002 to help celebrate the Boxing Writers Association of America “Good Guy” award presented to his friend Teddy Blackburn, I offered to help get the word out and hopefully get some media coverage for McClellan’s plight.
The night he arrived, one reporter, Wally Matthews, then of the New York Post, showed up. The only other person there outside of McClellan’s immediate circle, Matthews, Blackburn and myself was then-middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins.
Hopkins, not one to get rattled by much, was affected by seeing the condition of the man who once held his title, yet while the two were together, it was almost a guilty pleasure seeing them interact. McClellan asked Hopkins to put his fist on his chin. Hopkins responded “I don’t want to put you to sleep.”
McClellan laughed, and as he held Hopkins’ hand, he said “It sounds like me and you are going to make some money together.”
It would have been something to see.
The next day, more reporters and more fighters showed up to McClellan’s hotel room. Some would just wait outside, not wanting to see the other side of the sport. The fighters who did, among them Paulie Malignaggi, Mark Breland, Brian Adams and Ricardo Williams Jr., were likely affected forever, but they didn’t shy away either.
That was more than 12 years ago. There have been no more trips to New York for McClellan, and outside of the odd story here and there, he has been largely ignored by the boxing world that once celebrated him. That may very well be why his story stuck with me for so long. This wasn’t some punch drunk “opponent” that stuck around too long. McClellan was in his prime, on top of his game, and likely a win or two away from a Superfight with his friend and former amateur rival Roy Jones Jr. In other words, McClellan’s predicament showed that in boxing, you are always just one punch away from tragedy, no matter who you are.
At the time when I got the call from my father to come over and watch Benn vs. McClellan on tape delay back in 1995, I had already heard the news that something bad had happened in London, but I had to see it with my own eyes. And what I saw was a brilliant fight that displayed McClellan’s crushing power and Benn’s unyielding heart, but that was also marred by inept refereeing by referee Alfred Asaro, who was inexplicably selected to officiate a fight between an American and a Brit even though he didn’t speak English.
In the tenth round, McClellan took a knee and was counted out. Moments later, he was in distress in the corner and being treated feverishly by ringside physicians. Once in the hospital, his life was saved, but at a tremendous cost.
Today, the 47-year-old remains in his home in Freeport, Illinois, still requiring 24-hour a day care. The special lady caring for McClellan is his sister, Lisa. I never met Gerald until that 2002 night in New York, but I’ve known Lisa for much of those two decades since the fight, and while she’s never put on a pair of gloves, I know no one who is more of a fighter. She’s the real hero of the Gerald McClellan story, a selfless individual who has put her life on hold for 20 years to be her brother’s keeper.
Currently, Lisa is putting together a charity fundraiser for her brother on March 28 to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the Benn-McClellan fight, hoping to help aid with the former middleweight champion’s pre-existing medical bills as well as the medications necessary to deal with a colon issue related to his nervous system being affected by the Benn fight. McClellan also can’t be left at home alone, so if his sister needs to leave the house, someone has to be hired to watch him.
Lisa downplays her role, saying that any sibling would do that for one of their own. She’s dead wrong.
If there is any solace, it’s that her brother’s condition hasn’t worsened over the years with the exception of the colon situation.
“It’s at a plateau,” she said. “It’s not got any better but it’s not got any worse. He’s maintaining good health. He feeds himself and bathes himself. He talks on the phone when people call. He loves visitors and company. He’s still got the colon issue, but we’re just treating it now instead of removing the colon.”
McClellan remains blind, and he can only walk with assistance, but Lisa says that her brother’s personality is intact, and when it comes to his boxing career, he recalls everything with the exception of the Benn fight.
“He remembers everything about his entire career other than the last fight,” she said. “And what he remembers from the last fight is just what we’ve told him over the years. He doesn’t have any memory of that night. If I said, for instance, what happened during the Julian Jackson fight, he’ll tell you everything that happened. If I ask him if he remembers the Nigel Benn fight, he’ll only recall what I’ve shared.”
Yet when McClellan and Benn met in England in 2007, Lisa saw her brother open up to the man he will be linked with forever.
“When he met with Nigel, he got more in-depth about what happened,” she said. “He never shared with me that the fight almost took his life and things like that, but when he met with Nigel, he asked Nigel if he knew that that fight almost cost him his life. And he also told Nigel that before that night, boxing was his life, and he almost lost his life in the ring. He’s never got that detailed with me as he did when he met with Nigel.”
It’s a bond between fighters that most of us will never understand. Unless you’ve risked your life in the ring, you can’t understand that for all the rewards, there are those nights when the entourage has left, the paychecks have run out, and it’s only you, alone with your memories.
Gerald McClellan doesn’t remember his last fight. But 20 years later, we can’t afford to forget.
An evening honoring Gerald McClellan will take place on Saturday, March 28 at the Masonic Temple in Freeport, Illinois. More information will be forthcoming.
To make a tax-deductible contribution to the Gerald McClellan Trust Fund, please send a check or money order (made out to the Gerald McClellan Trust) to:
Gerald McClellan Trust
839 East Wyandotte Street
FREEPORT, IL 61032
