The boxing match that cured me of following boxing

The boxing match that cured me of following boxing

Got our first TV in ’51 when I was 6. A sports fan, I watched the White Sox and the only other major televised sport, boxing. Most Friday nights watched boxing matches sponsored by Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. That year I witnessed sadly as Joe Louis got hammered in the first round by a much younger Rocky Marciano. It was the last of the Brown Bomber’s 123 amateur and pro bouts.

On March 24, 1962, I watched my last boxing match. Benny ‘The Kid’ Paret was defending his welterweight crown against Emile Griffiths. Tho not reported beforehand, the 2 almost started fighting at the weigh-in. Paret touched Griffith’s butt and called him a maricon (faggot) alluding to Griffith’s rumored homosexuality.

Big mistake, as Griffith got fired up to avenge, at the time, the worst possible insult. In Round 12 Griffith pinned Paret up against the ropes and pounded him into a coma from which he never woke up. I watched him die standing up. His demise began a death knell for boxing as a premier US sport and rightly so, tho it's still around in the cultural shadows. It also ended my fascination with 2 men trying to kill each other for money and fan enjoyment. Seeing one such death in real time was enough for me.

 I’d largely suppressed my memory of that fight 62 years ago. It bubbled up from my subconscious recently upon hearing of the Chicago Lyric Opera production of ‘Champion’, a jazz opera of Griffith's tortured life. He fought for 15 years after the Paret fight, but his KO’s and wins went way down. He admitted pulling his his punches to avoid killing another fighter. Griffith won 3 different weight titles. But he’d likely have traded them all for Paret surviving his pugilistic blows.