Smokin' Joe

Boxing is increasingly a peripheral sport, so it's difficult to explain to younger people why Joe Frazier mattered. Frazier died yesterday at the age of 67, losing a battle against liver cancer. Frazier didn't lose many battles.

I don't really remember the first Frazier-Ali fight from 1971 -- I was in second grade at the time, but I remember it was a major story. It was Joe Frazier's fate to be the foil in his three fights against Muhammad Ali and he was a worthy one. In the 1970s there were four outstanding heavyweight fighters -- Ali, Frazier, George Foreman and Ken Norton. In the end, Ali was the one who won out, but Frazier was always there. He wasn't a quick wit or an inspirational figure like Ali, but no one worked harder.

Of the four big fighters, I always liked Frazier the best. It's difficult to remember this now, but in those days George Foreman was considered a menacing and malevolent figure, not the semi-cuddly pitchman he's been for the last 20 years. Ali was a magnificent fighter but his taunting ways bothered me when I was young. Frazier seemed to be more admirable -- a tough guy from Philadelphia who just did his work and kept coming. And since most of my buddies seemed to like Ali better, I decided to like Frazier instead. I remember some impassioned conversations with my buddies about the relative merits of the fighters, especially as they fought one another over the years. And I remember listening to the broadcasts of various Smokin' Joe fights on my transistor radio -- his shocking loss to Foreman in particular. I don't imagine too many kids do that any more.