Just an article I wrote on Joe Frazier

As anybody reading this is already aware, former heavyweight champion of the world "Smokin" Joe Frazier, died Monday night. Frazier, 67, had been battling liver cancer for a while, but the news of his illness had only been made public this past Saturday, by The Associated Press. Frazier was especially integral to my becoming a fan of the sport of boxing, and I wanted to write this blog/article detailing his life, and career, in a humorous, and honest manner, as a means of paying my respects to the man. Joseph William Frazier was born in Laurel Bay, Beaufort, South Carolina on January 12th, 1944. Frazier's parents, Rubin, and Dolly, owned a 10 acre piece of land they turned into a farm, which Joe spend the earliest parts of his life working on as a small child. As if working on a farm every day as a small child doesn't suck badly enough, Joe was also an African American who was born in the deep south during a time of unprecedented bigotry. Ontop of this, the land his parents had decided to turn into a farm was what southern folks called "white dirt", which, as Joe said, is another way of saying that the land, "wasn't worth a damn". So not only is he born poor, and black, in a mostly racist shithole, but the land he's supposed to be farming on is so terrible, his family can only grow, and I'm NOT kidding : cotton and watermelon. That's so wrong, I'm not even going to touch that one for a cheap joke. In the early 1950's, Frazier's family was able to buy a black and white television (these actually existed once, tech babies), which he was probably tremendously grateful for, after spending most of his days kicking around dirt, and working his hands to the bones. Eventually everybody in the neighborhood started coming over to the Frazier household to watch boxing, and who the fuck could blame them? Boxing rules. Frazier particularly enjoyed watching fighters like Joe Louis, Rocky Marciano, Willie Pep, and "Sugar" Ray Robinson (perhaps the baddest motherfucker ever to walk this planet), among others. Frazier became so taken with the fistic art, and a comment his uncle made about Joe's potential to be, "the next Rocky Marciano", that he immediately decided that from that moment on, he was going to become a complete badass. Thus the story of Joseph William Frazier ends, and the story of "Smokin" Joe Frazier begins..... Frazier began training to become a boxer, but lacked the money needed to training equipment, so like a total genius, he set about making his own. He found an old burlap sack, and filled it with bricks, spanish moss and corncobs, which he then hung from a tree, as a makeshift heavybag to practice on. This proves two things : 1.) Joe Frazier is the boxing version of "MacGyver", and 2.) Only a man with testicles the size of watermelons would even think about putting bricks in his heavybag. For the next 7 years or so, Joe would wrap his hands with his father's necktie, and work that bag for an hour a day. How the fuck he didn't liquify the bones in his hands to a gelatinous mush is anybody's guess, but this is no normal man we're talking about here, either. One day while working on the farm, Frazier had a run in with a 300lbs hog (not Kelly Clarkson, an actual wild hog), where he ended up seriously damaging his left arm, by falling on it, and landing on a brick. His parents had no money for a doctor's visit, so it had to heal naturally. Even after it healed, Joe could never fully extend it, so it was permanently angled at all times. Perfect for throwing a left hook, and thus the most badass weapon in heavyweight boxing history was born. In 1959, Frazier was 15 years old, and had apparently had enough of living in the south, so he decided to get the fuck out of Mayberry, saved up some cash, and hopped on a bus to New York, to go live with his brother Tommy, who had said goodbye to that hillbilly hellhole a while ago. The next few years haven't really been discussed much, Joe moved to Philly, but it's safe to assume Joe was probably boxing a lot, working even more, and getting chicks pregnant with his undeniable aura of awesomeness. Frazier won amateur championships in 1962, 1963, and 1964. In 1964, Joe decided he was going to try out for the United States' olympic boxing team, until he ran into a roadblock named Buster Mathis. According to frazier, Mathis was wearing his boxing trunks very high ("up to his titties!"), and Joe ended up having points taken away by the referee (they were incompetent back then, too). Ultimately, Joe ended up losing a decision to Mathis, which didn't sit well with Joe, who said, "All that fat boy did was run like a thief, hit me with a peck, and then backpedal like crazy!". And who could blame him? Mathis was probably pissing himself with fear the moment he saw Frazier. Anyway, Frazier returned to Philadelphia all dejected about his loss, and was talked into going to Tokyo, Japan for the Olympics anyway, as an alternate, should something happen to the tubby Mathis. Joe agreed, went to Japan, and became a sparring partner for any Olympic boxer who wanted an ass whipping. Oddly enough, and I'm not even joking here, Buster Mathis wanted another one. He and Frazier ended up having an exhibition, in which Mathis broke his knuckle on Joe's head, and was forced out of the team, making room for Frazier on the official roster. Hilarious!! Whether or not Mathis actually broke his knuckle is not known for certain, Joe himself said he saw Mathis' dedication to training was lacking, and that he didn't seem the least bit bummed out about having to withdraw from the Olympic rotation. Regardless : Mathis was out, and Frazier was in. Frazier steamrolled motherfuckers in the Olympics like angry rednecks steamrolled "Soulja Boy" CD's. In the semi-finals, Joe was the last American boxer left, and he broke his thumb on some Russian's face. He fought through the pain like a total badass, and the Russian's corner stopped the fight midway through the second round of an epic ass whipping. Frazier was in the finals. Returning to his dressing room after the fight, he soaked his broken thumb in some warm water, and the thought of not fighting for the Olympic Gold Medal never even entered his mind, as Joe said, "Pain or not, Joe Frazier was going for gold." Joe was in the finals against Hans Huber, of Germany. From the opening bell, Frazier was just winging punches like a madman, using his right hand more often due to the pain in his left, and he eventually scored a decision victory over the overwhelmed kraut. Frazier was now an Olympic Gold Medalist, as well as a colossal ass kicking machine. Frazier turned pro in 1965, and set out on a path of destruction. His first opponet, Woody Goss, ending up being disqualified like a terrified faggot for holding Joe too much, after Joe put him on his ass in the first round. In his second fight, Frazier tasted the canvas for the first time against Mike Bruce, which only pissed him off, as he beat Bruce's face in for the next 2 rounds until the referee stopped the fight in the 3rd. Joe then tears through his next 8 opponets, like a fat chick tears through the seams of her pants. Shortly thereafter, Eddie Futch took over as Frazier's manager, and helped him adapt his style to the "hunched over, bob and weave, crippling left hook to the face or body" style we all remember Frazier for. In 1966, Frazier met some dude named Billy Daniels, and beat the piss out of him so badly, he knocked him down 4 times in 6 rounds. Daniels quit on his stool after the end of the 6th round, probably saying something like ; "This guy is a fucking monster, get me the hell out of here!" The first real challenge of Frazier's career came in September of 1966, when he faced off against brutal challenger Oscar Bonavena. Bonavena dropped Frazier twice in the second round, and a third knockdown would have won him the fight, due to the "three knockdown rule" being in effect. But it wasn't to be, for Bonavena : Frazier sucked it up, rallied back, and beat Bonavena by majority decision. For the next year and a half, Frazier continued to terrify opponets like spiders terrify chicks : Adding 6 more stoppage victories to his record, and one unanimous decision victory over some dude named George Johnson, who was apparently made out of pure iron. In early 1968, Frazier, now 19-0, got his chance at the first piece of recently vacated heavyweight championship of the world. The title, if you recall, was vacated by undefeated heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali, when he was exiled from the sport, for refusing induction into the United States' military. In Joe's first professional championship bout, he would be facing none other than Buster Mathis. Frazier knocked Mathis out in the 11th round and was recognized by the New York State Athletic Commission as the heavyweight champion of the world. Frazier then went on to his first title defense, knocking out some Mexican heavyweight (they existed before Chris Arreola), named Manuel Ramos in a mere two rounds. In the second defense of his title Frazier would once again square off with Bonavena, but this wouldn't be like their first meeting : Frazier bullied Bonavena to the ropes, and worked him over like a cheap prostitute all night long, winning a wide unanimous decision, and leaving Bonavena with a serious case of "cannibal face". In 1969, Frazier defended his NYSAC heavyweight title twice, beating Dave Zyglewicz via first round knockout, and Jerry Quarry via stoppage before the 8th round, due to a bad gash over Quarry's eye.