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By Terence Dooley - If one uttered the phrase “inau****ious beginnings” it would throw up the image of parolee Bernard Hopkins, looking to make something of his newfound freedom, losing his first ever prize-fight back in 1988. Sluggish at light-heavyweight, the raw fighter dropped a 4-round decision to Clinton Mitchell in a fight that registered Hopkins, if he registered at all, as a fighter not to look out for. Hopkins’ fee for the bout, less then $400, must have seemed scant reward for a man no doubt struggling in his post-prison life.
Eighteen-months later Hopkins was back; the son of Philly was reborn, back in his hometown, at its most authentic venue, the Blue Horizon. This win, over Greg Paige, may not have registered on the Richter scale of boxing; however if it can be said that it is possible to envisage a monsoon eventually resulting from a butterfly flapping its wings. We can also imagine that Hopkins, in his second coming, strode from his chrysalis with a clear view of what he wanted to archive in boxing, and life. [details]
Eighteen-months later Hopkins was back; the son of Philly was reborn, back in his hometown, at its most authentic venue, the Blue Horizon. This win, over Greg Paige, may not have registered on the Richter scale of boxing; however if it can be said that it is possible to envisage a monsoon eventually resulting from a butterfly flapping its wings. We can also imagine that Hopkins, in his second coming, strode from his chrysalis with a clear view of what he wanted to archive in boxing, and life. [details]
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