By Matthew Hurley
Since it broke ground in 1989, the International Boxing Hall of Fame (IBHOF) in Canastota New York has become a safe haven for both fighters and boxing fans. Every June since its inception, Executive Director Ed Brophy and his team have created an atmosphere during its induction ceremony weekend that is rich in history and entertainment. The IBHOF promotes an uncommon camaraderie amongst all of its participants. Fighters, unlike any other athletes often show remarkable hands-on affection toward their fans – embraces, handshakes or long, cost-free autograph sessions. And the fans themselves, particularly at the IBHOF, revel in the company of their heroes and kindred spirits.
Beyond my excitement about the event and my passion for boxing, there was a dimension of quiet fulfillment in spending a weekend with my father and witnessing his enthusiasm for the sport I love up close. Quiet fulfillment because I happen to be a man who’s more comfortable with the written word than a verbal exchange. A failing perhaps, but I’m too old to change who I am now.
My father’s knowledge of old time fighters like Sugar Ray Robinson, Henry Armstrong, Paul Pender (who had recently passed away), and his respect for blue collar fighters like Arturo Gatti and Micky Ward enlivened our experience and relationship. Watching classic battles like Erik Morales vs. Marco Antonio Barrera or Diego Corrales vs. Jose Luis Castillo, together with a belly full of beer or being ringside for amateur tournaments in South Boston have become a perfect salve for a sometimes contentious father/son relationship. A high-five or a slap on the back can mean everything. Never was this more evident than on the day I spent tracking down fighters for autographs on the Hall of Fame grounds.
Afterwards we all retired to Graziano’s Restaurant, the favorite watering hole for fighters and fans located right across the street from the museum. Over beers and terrific pub food, I sat back and listened to my dad and three of his buddies tell stories about fighters or just reminisce about growing up together and then cut each other down with witty anecdotes my dad probably never wanted me to hear. But the stories were so funny, so warm and so recognizable that I realized, I could have hung out with his crew growing up. Many of his experiences mirrored my own. It was enlightening.
Then the fighters began to nonchalantly walk in, but in my eyes they were princes among men. Where else can you be sitting with a piece of hot, greasy pizza in your hand and a few too many beers under your belt and see Matthew Saad Muhammad walk in? Not only did he walk in but the former light heavyweight champ sat down with us and other people in the restaurant, smiling happily for the cameras and signing autographs. So classy was this ex-fighter, and so engaging his smile, that he posed for nearly a dozen photos with me; he didn’t mind a bit.
So too did Leon Spinks, Aaron Pryor and Donald Curry. They all seemed to genuinely enjoy our company. There was no trace of the elitist atmosphere one often gets when dealing with athletes from other sports. And amidst it all was my father, snapping pictures with his beloved digital camera and exhorting me to “get in there!” His desire to see me live out what I’d only dreamed of led to quick but wonderful moments during the cocktail reception with Carmen Basilio, Gene Fullmer, Tony Demarco and Emile Griffith. Never have I been so in awe of my situation. To see these fighters reliving past glories with former adversaries and reveling in the adulation of their fans was deeply affecting. Spending these moments with my father only intensified the experience. All of our differences of opinion and that frustrating inability to understand each other was, at least for a while, forgotten.
There is an uncommon bond between boxers and their fans because the fighters themselves are fans of the sport and they revere their own. They walk amongst the crowd like you and me at the memorabilia shows, looking for that black and white photograph or a video tape of a fight they remember from when they were a kid. I can remember standing at a table with an autographed copy of a 1981 Sports Illustrated magazine in my hand. As I gazed at my idol, Thomas Hearns on the cover with the caption "You Better Pray, Sugar Ray" a fellow next to me said, "look how skinny he was back then." It was Mike McCallum. I bought the magazine and it is framed, alongside autographed photographs of Gene Fullmer, Carmen Basillio, Marvin Hagler and Tony Demarco. They all hang above my desk.
If you haven’t made this trip yet, put it on your agenda. Many of these fighters are getting older and the trip becomes more burdensome for them – and time waits for no man. I was so looking forward to meeting Kid Gavilan in 2003 but the old master passed away just weeks before the ceremony. Treasure these fighters while you can, and enjoy the spectacle with someone close to you. I can’t remember a better time I’ve had with my father. Hopefully we’ll make it to the IBHOF once again and relive great memories and revitalize our love for the sport of boxing and its noble warriors, and our love for each other.
