Category: Uncategorized

 

If Rocky Marciano were alive, he would have celebrated his 90^th birthday yesterday.  Marciano died in a small airplane crash near Newton, Iowa on August 31, 1969 and although the former boxing great has been dead for a long time he is fondly remembered by many fans including Twin Cities public relations professional and fight fan Dennis McGrath.

One day back in 1969 McGrath was having lunch at a place called the Front Page in downtown Minneapolis when he saw a guy that looked like Marciano.  McGrath recognized a man with the retired heavyweight champion, a local fighter named Joe Schmolze who he knew.

“What the hell is he (Marciano) doing in Minneapolis?” McGrath wondered.

The retired Champ was in town on business, representing a union involved with an insurance company.  “I told Joe it would be great to meet Rocky,” McGrath recalled.

Marciano graciously introduced himself, as if McGrath didn’t know who the legendary fighter was. “He says, ‘Hi, I am Rocky Marciano.’  I am shaking the hand of the guy that knocked out Joe Louis.”

A few months later Marciano, who was born on September 1, 1923, was dead, just a day before his 46^th birthday.  Ironically, about the same time Schmolze was killed in a car accident in Columbia Heights.

While Schmolze’s death was news locally, the passing of the Rock shook the nation.  “This is the saddest news I ever heard,” Louis said.

That quote is from the 2002 book The Rock of His Times by Russell Sullivan.  His Marciano biography is the story about one of America’s most beloved heroes during the 1950s and 1960s, a time when boxing was near the top of the entertainment charts in this country.

When you were the heavyweight champ, the nation was watching.  With Marciano people liked what they saw — fans, sportswriters and even guys the Rock hurt in the ring including the incomparable Louis who to this day is considered by some historians to be the greatest heavyweight ever.

Louis was African-American while Marciano was Italian-American, but regardless of race other fighters and those associated with the sport liked Marciano.  “The nicest guy (Marciano) you ever wanted to meet,” Angelo Dundee said in Sullivan’s book.  “A gentleman.”

For years Dundee was Muhammad Ali’s trainer.  Dundee ranks Marciano among the 10 best heavyweights of all time, according to Sullivan who also quotes writer Jimmy Breslin as saying, “I don’t know who was better.”

During a pro career that started in 1948 and ended in 1956, Marciano compiled a 49-0 record with 43 knockouts.  From 1952-1956 he was the undisputed champion of the world and retired as the only undefeated and untied heavyweight champ ever.

In the early part of 1969 Marciano filmed a fake fight with Ali who was then only 27 years old.  Marciano, 45, got in shape and wore a toupee for the filming.  The two men worked out in the ring while cameras recorded their movements and blows.  The purpose was to make a film for commercial profit but neither Marciano nor Ali knew at the time who a computer would judge the winner.

What fight fans ultimately saw when the “Super Fight” movie was released in 1970 was Marciano winning with a 13th round TKO.  It was the Rock’s “last fight” and even in a film he remained undefeated.  A disappointed Ali is said to have suggested the computer was from Alabama.

Marciano was a blood and guts fighter.  He was a slugger, not a fancy boxer, and he often looked awkward in his movements.  Only 5-11 and well under 200 pounds, Marciano didn’t have a long reach or more size than opponents but he hit with devastating power and was capable of even killing another man.  He could weather a blow from foes like few others and was only knocked down twice in his career.

The Champ had something else, too.  Incredible determination to succeed.  A Depression era baby, a young Marciano wanted success and when he washed out as a pro baseball player he knew boxing was his last ticket to earning wealth in athletics.

Marciano’s will to succeed was evident in how hard and effectively he trained.  Sullivan writes that supposedly even voluptuous movie star Jayne Mansfield couldn’t distract the Champ during training for one of his fights.  “What is he, crazy?” Mansfield reportedly asked.  “He didn’t want anything to do with me.”

After retiring from boxing, Marciano kept busy with business affairs including speeches.  He didn’t want to lose his place among the famous and he also wanted to make sure the kid who grew up so poor in Brockton, Massachusetts always had plenty of cash.

Sullivan said it’s believed there are still places around the country that Marciano hid his money.  It was a hunger for money, recognition and helping friends that had Marciano on the move after his boxing career ended.  He often travelled by private airplane and was trying to fly from Chicago to Des Moines when he and two passengers were killed in 1969.

“Rocky lived life lately like it was the 15^th round and he was behind on points,” Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray wrote only days after Marciano’s death.  “Every time I saw him of late he was on the dead run.”

For Dennis McGrath and others who met Marciano, they are now just grateful to have known him.

Happy birthday, Champ.

Comments Welcome

 

Bob Backlund travelled a lot of miles to earn his way into the World Wrestling Entertainment Hall of Fame last Saturday night.

The Princeton, Minnesota native was inducted into that professional wrestling organization’s Hall of Fame with a class that included Bruno Sammartino and Donald Trump, a friend of the McMahon family that runs the WWE.  The WWE Hall of Fame event was held at Madison Square Garden, the famous New York venue where Backlund wrestled so many times.

“I sold it out about 68 of 72 appearances,” Backlund told Sports Headliners.  “I was an All-American boy.”

Among the appearances he won’t forget was February 20, 1978.  That was the night he won the World Wrestling Federation title against Superstar Billy Graham.

Backlund then held the title for five years and 10 months.  That rein was second only to his friend Sammartino’s championship run.  “I am very happy we’re going in (the Hall of Fame) together,” Backlund said last Friday.

These days Backlund operates a heating oil business in Connecticut, is a spokesman for the WWE and has a training product called Gym in a Box.  He’s come a long ways since being trained by Eddie Sharkey at the Seventh Street Gym in Minneapolis during the winter of 1973.

Later that year Backlund set out for his professional wrestling debut in Baton   Rouge, Louisiana, driving a 1968 Chevy Impala.  “I had $20 in my pocket,” Backlund recalled.  “When I arrived I had 30 cents.”

Backlund’s career was launched, beginning a series of one night appearances in various parts of the United States and other places.  It was a career that lasted on and off for three decades, and followed his wrestling success at Princeton High School and North Dakota State.

At Princeton High Backlund was a Minnesota state champion at 175 pounds, and he also played high school football for coaching legend Ron Stolski.  At North Dakota State he was a defensive tackle who in January of 1972 helped the Bison win the national championship by making 20 tackles and recovering two fumbles.  Two months later he dropped 40 pounds and was an NCAA champion at 190 pounds.

USA Network had scheduled a one hour WWE Hall of Fame special earlier this week .  The Hall of Fame event was part of a WWE weekend that featured Sunday’s Wrestlemania 29.

 

Comments Welcome

 

A column about my tormented golf game?  I have contemplated such an effort for weeks.  Voices race through my head both urging and protesting the exercise of writing a golf confessional.  Today I relented.

Me:  Why now?  Why are you willing to do a self-analysis today?

Self:  I am desperate for a column idea.  And maybe this interview will at least shut you up until you start second-guessing the stock portfolio tonight.

Me:  How would you describe your game in 2012?

Self:  Depressing and painful.  I am playing my worst golf in many years, and that’s like saying the Washington Generals have slipped a notch or two.

Me:  Doesn’t anything about the game perk you up?

Self:  Yes, the greeting card “New Father’s Day Golf Rules” published by Tomato Cards.

Me:   What?

Self:  You remember…Bill gave me a Father’s Day card with 10 new suggested “golf rules.”  I found several of them therapeutic including these:

“Every drive is a practice drive till you get one you like.”

“Subtract one stroke for every tee you remember to pick up.”

“Chipping on the green will be replaced by an underhand toss.”

Me:  That stuff won’t work.  Your golf partners aren’t going to go for that.  Besides, you had five lessons this summer from a pro.  Those first-time lessons should make a difference.

Self:  Yeah, I thought so, too, but my scores on the course are higher than in past years.  My golfing buddy Ron said: “You are worse.  You’re discombobulated.”

Me:  Did you take anything positive away from last week’s 18 holes played with Ron?

Self:  Well, we huddled behind a tree during a downpour and analyzed the Obama–Romney race for the White House.  That was fun, and after my clubs got soaked and we resumed play I had another excuse for my lousy round.  But I can’t remember the last time I played 18 holes and didn’t lose a golf ball.  In fact, I found a couple of good balls.  So you could say I was “plus two for the day.”

Me:  That sounds pretty good.  And here’s another positive thing to remember about playing golf.  Downstairs in the house is a golf trophy that our buddy Myron came up with a couple years ago that is supposed to be awarded to the winner of our annual golf competition.

Self:  Puh-leeze.  It’s no ego trip winning that every summer.  Myron plays tennis three times per week.  He golfs three times a year.

Me:  Well, you don’t have to tell people stuff like that.  Just modestly point to the trophy and say, “Aw, shucks, I’ve been fortunate to win that sucker every year.”

Self:  You know what?  The best thing about my game this year is the golf lessons have me twisting and turning more than ever.  The result?  Chronic pain in my rib cage has lessened, and sometimes goes away for days.

Me:  That alone is reason to keep playing.  Better health through better twisting.  I like it.

Self: Well, I haven’t given up on golf.  It’s just that the game would be so much easier if I could be a specialist – like in football.  Let somebody else drive, or hit from the fairway.  Designated putter is a role that has appeal.

Me:  So you’re willing to commit to next year on the links despite the understandable off-year in 2012?

Self:  Probably, but I did receive a swimming challenge from brother-in-law Mark.  He’s riding high these days after swimming across a big lake in Montana.  He emailed this last week:  “See you next year at Flathead Lake, kid.  Golf, you know, is the lazy man’s sport.  Just hit the ball and take the cart.  Tough.”

Me: Uh, oh.

Comments Welcome