LA SALUD

Since Ali–Bugner was scheduled for February 14, Muhammad promptly dubbed it the

“St. Valentine’s Day Massacre,” in reference to the bloody gangland slayings in Chicago back in 1929. Although Ali didn’t plan on emulating the extremes of Al Capone, he did predict a seventh-round knockout victory.

At the tender age of 22, Joe Bugner was far from a novice. Leading up to the Ali match, he had compiled an impressive 42–4–1 dossier. By contrast, Ali had engaged in only 19 bouts at a similar stage in his career, and even now he had six fewer fights than his youthful opponent.

Born in Hungary in 1950, Bugner fled to England along with his mother and sisters during the 1956 uprising in that country. The refugee family found new roots in Bedford.

Bugner had become interested in boxing at the age of 13 after watching a Lazlo Papp fight on television. Papp was a three-time Olympic gold medalist and the greatest fighter Hungary ever produced.

Blessed with plenty of natural athletic ability (he had excelled in track and discus throwing in school), the tall, blond youth enjoyed a successful amateur boxing career. When he moved to St. Ives, he was taken in hand by a small-time trainer/manager named Andy Smith.

Under Smith’s guidance, Bugner began his professional career at the age of 17. He was matched with a transplanted Jamaican named Paul Brown on a hotel card. Young Joe floored Brown twice in the second round and was administering a one-sided shellacking when a Brown right came out of the blue and flattened the teenager for the full count.

Despite that disastrous beginning, fifteen more years would pass before Bugner would again fail to finish a fight. Undaunted by his debutant disaster, Joe gained his vengeance by stopping Brown twice in the following year.

Early in his career, Bugner made a name for himself as a sparring partner for then con-tender Thad Spencer, who was in England to fight Eduardo Corletti. During training ses-sions, the youngster banged Spencer’s eye so badly the Corletti fight had to be postponed.

Bugner was heartbroken when a Jamaican fighter named Ulric Regis collapsed and died after losing a decision to Joe in 1969. However, like so many others before him, Bugner continued his career. As the ’70s began, he methodically pounded out wins over less than formidable opposition, the same fistic roadkill that appeared on the records of every other prospect of that time. His more notable victims included Jack O’Halloran, Charlie Polite, Johnny Prescott, Eduardo Corletti, Brian London, Scrap Iron Johnson, and Chuck Wep-ner.

On paper, Joe Bugner was a potential superstar. He was a good-looking, big (6' 4", 220 pounds), well-built, well-spoken, clean-living young heavyweight with a solid chin, a winning record, a sterling future, and, as Ali always put it, the “complexion with the con-nections.”

He had it all, except for the one thing he wanted more than anything else: the unalloyed admiration of British boxing fans and media. Bugner had plenty of supporters, but they were always outnumbered by his critics.

Why didn’t Bugner achieve greater popularity in his adopted country? A number of explanations may be advanced. One factor working against him was his foreign background.

At that time, the British weren’t quite ready to accept an immigrant hero, especially one from a Communist country.

Bugner’s style worked against him as well. Despite his size and sculpted muscles, he was a boxer, not a puncher. And then there was Joe’s obvious lack of passion for the sport.

He once said that boxing was something he happened to be very good at, not something he particularly enjoyed. The death of Ulric Regis may have contributed to that attitude.

Even without the kind of desire that burned in a Joe Frazier, natural ability and strin-gent conditioning were sufficient to carry Bugner to victory over opponents on the lower and middle rungs of the heavyweight ladder. But his lack of fire and ferocity hampered his relationship with the British public.

British boxing fans are a different breed from those on the other side of the Atlantic.

Both British and American aficionados love a winner. However, British fans seem to take more stock in gritty determination than actual victory. This attitude came about through decade after decade of watching their best fighters getting chewed up and spat out by

“bleedin’ Yanks.” Eventually, any British heavyweight who managed to look respectable in defeat, as did Tommy Farr against Joe Louis, became a national hero.

Now, in Bugner, the Brits had the most complete package of a heavyweight fighter most had ever seen. But he appeared to lack the requisite spirit. Some of the more extreme fans almost blamed God for having squandered such extravagant physical potential on a lad who didn’t know what to do with it. Most fans’ feelings for him were summed up in his nickname: “The Bug.”

Then, in March of 1971, Bugner committed the ultimate sin by hammering the final nail into the pugilistic coffin of the islands’ most beloved fighter, Henry Cooper. Never did Joe’s popularity sink so low as on the night he won a squeaker of a decision over the 37-year-old three-time British champion. Bugner was only 21 and outweighed Cooper by 23¹⁄⁴ pounds, yet he came within an eyelash of losing the 15-round verdict to old “’Enery.”

Now Bugner occupied the same unenviable position as fighters like Gene Tunney and Ezzard Charles, both of whom succeeded extremely popular champions. Great fighters in their own right, Tunney and Charles never achieved the level of adulation enjoyed by their predecessors, Jack Dempsey and Joe Louis. In England, Cooper was as adored as Dempsey and Louis, and that spelled trouble for Bugner.

When the decision in Bugner’s favor was announced, a rain of garbage flew into the ring, hardly a glorious coronation. Nevertheless, Joe now reigned as champion of Britain, the Commonwealth, and Europe. In terms of significance, with those titles and a dime he could make a phone call.

Cooper announced his retirement after the Bugner fight. He remained one of the most beloved public figures in the United Kingdom. In contrast, Bugner’s career fell into a tailspin. The rejection he experienced gnawed at the young champion, and its effects showed in his performance. Two months after the Cooper fight, he defended his European title with a lackluster decision over Jurgen Blin. Then, on September 27, Bugner hit rock bottom.

His triple-title defense against the awkward Jack Bodell was supposed to be easy. Bugner had more talent in his little finger than Bodell had in his entire 6' 2" frame. Yet Bugner fought as though he were sleepwalking, and allowed Bodell to walk away with the decision and the titles.

Bugner rebounded slightly by out-pointing American trial horse Mike Boswell. Then he lost another decision, this time to Baltimore stylist Larry Middleton. The Middleton verdict was so close and controversial, even Bugner’s detractors decried the scoring. London Times writer Neil Allen, who rated himself “among the most severe critics of Bugner,”

believed Joe had been robbed.

At this point, Bugner appeared to be just another prospect who had failed to live up to his potential. But he managed to pull himself together and score eight consecutive wins in 1972.

The streak included seven knockouts, the sweetest being a seven-round stoppage of Blin that enabled Joe to regain the European crown. That crown must have been tarnished with fingerprints, having passed from Bugner to Bodell to Jose Urtain to Blin, then back to Bugner, all in a mere 13 months.

Joe opened 1973 with a routine 15-round decision over a durable Dutchman named Rudi Lubbers in defense of the European title. Less than a month later, he was in Las Vegas, facing the legendary Muhammad Ali.

The Ali–Bugner fight had been in jeopardy almost from the moment it was proposed.

When Bugner inked the contract on December 8, 1972, he did so despite threats from the British Boxing Board of Control. Ray Clarke, BBBC Secretary, said Bugner had been told that he was forbidden to sign the contract.

The BBBC’s opposition to the fight was based on purely economic grounds. They wanted the bout to be held in Britain, where they could take a percentage of the gate. On December 14, after a lengthy interview with Bugner, the BBBC reversed its stance. Bugner would be allowed to fight Ali in America.

Ali was guaranteed $275,000 for his efforts, while Bugner stood to earn a reported

$125,000, mainly from British closed circuit rights.

This fight had something of a different angle in that Bugner was a well-known Ali fan, unlike most of the rest of Muhammad’s opponents. In fact, Bugner’s 10-rounder with Mike Boswell had occurred on the undercard of the Ali–Buster Mathis fight in Houston. Ali and Bugner had sparred 20 rounds with each other in preparation for their respective bouts, and Bugner was suitably impressed by the experience.

Joe told the media he wanted to dispose of Boswell quickly so he could shower up and get back to the arena in time to watch Ali take on Mathis.

Unfortunately, Boswell spoiled Bugner’s plans by lasting the full distance. But then the Ali–Mathis square dance wasn’t worth watching, anyway.

Now the situation was different. Bugner needed to put his hero-worship aside and do his best to defeat Ali in a 12-round bout appropriately billed as “The British Are Coming.”

The odds makers tabbed Bugner an 8–1 underdog, but the young contender remained undaunted. He reasoned that his credentials as European title holder meant that he was

“champion of half the world” already, and was by no means out of Ali’s league.

Also, Bugner had by now sparred a total of forty rounds with the ex-champ over the past two years. With that kind of experience under his belt, Joe assured the press that Ali didn’t frighten him.

Still, Ali made a monumental effort to unnerve Bugner from the moment Joe set foot on American soil. Not since his bombastic Cassius Clay days had Ali been so determined to psych out an opponent. Ego might have motivated Ali’s ire. For the first time, he was facing a much younger man, and his return to the Clay persona could have been an attempt to recapture his carefree youth.

Both men trained at the same facility for promotional purposes and there were those who felt that this would be detrimental to Bugner’s psyche, especially when Ali tried to accuse Bugner of calling him a “nigger.” But Bugner took it well: “I’ve heard it all before.

When I’ve sparred with him. He has to have a crowd around him and when the black Amer-icans come in he naturally turns it on even more. He makes his own rules and breaks all the normal ones — like saying I called him a nigger. Can you imagine me saying such a thing? ... But I treat Ali just like another good turn in the Las Vegas show business pro-gram.”⁹

Ali later said he regretted having made the unfounded allegation. But he had dropped several notches in Bugner’s estimation.

Instead of attempting to escape or ignore Ali’s taunts, Smith and Bugner preferred to meet the “Louisville Lip” head-on. In fact, Bugner regularly attended Ali’s sparring sessions at Caesars Palace. Naturally, Ali would spot Bugner in the crowd and would immediately bombard him with threats and insults. The majority of Bugner’s fans believed Smith shouldn’t have subjected his fighter to so much contact with Ali. Bugner disagreed. He figured that it was better to know up front what Ali was up to rather than lie in bed and fret about what he might be doing.

Ali’s frustration at his inability to rattle his opponent became increasingly obvious.

After fifteen minutes of ranting at the weigh-in, the most he could get out of the cool Briton was a grin. Afterward, Ali admitted that he’d been frustrated in his inability to goad his young opponent.

Besides his out-of-the-ring shenanigans, Ali’s training regimen also recalled earlier days. He worked harder for Bugner than he had for any other opponent since Frazier. He

sparred a full 67 rounds in the week preceding the fight. In fact, the day before the contest, when most fighters would be resting, Ali put in six rounds of sparring. He trained diligently because he expected Bugner to be a difficult opponent.

He also said that during his sparring experiences with Bugner, he found the Briton difficult to reach. Ali conceded that he hadn’t trained hard enough for his fights with Blue Lewis, Floyd Patterson, and Bob Foster.

Many believed the embarrassment of being cut by Foster in his most recent fight had spurred Ali to become more serious in training, and any concern about Bugner’s skills was more apparent than real.

At any rate, that appeared to be the consensus among British fans, who didn’t appear to fancy their boy’s chances against “The Greatest.” Still, more than 1,500 Brits poured into Las Vegas to witness the event.

Likewise, the hyper-critical British press did not hesitate to take a few more swipes at Bugner. In reference to a statement Ali had made about Bugner’s being a “spoiler, like George Foreman,” London Times boxing writer Neil Allen penned a rather disparaging retort:

“That comparison, which some might feel is almost blasphemous, is a measure of how hard Ali, one of the best publicity experts in the world, is trying to boost next Wednesday’s 12 round bout between ‘the greatest’ and our sometimes lackluster European heavyweight champion.”

In another article a few days before the fight, Allen wrote: “I hope he [Bugner] can rise to his best form against Ali though I have no doubt he will be beaten.”

On fight day, Ali stepped into the ring wearing a $2,000, jewel-sparkled robe with the label “The People’s Champion” emblazoned on the back. The garment was a gift from another celebrity superstar, Elvis Presley.

Beneath the robe, the fruits of Ali’s rigorous training were revealed: a sleek 217¹⁄² -pound form. But Bugner’s physique matched Ali’s ripple for ripple.

Not long after the opening bell, Ali opened a severe cut over Bugner’s left eye. Because of the wound, Bugner fought cautiously, and Ali was cast in the unfamiliar role of aggressor.

Over the next few rounds, Ali pursued while Bugner back-pedaled in an attempt to protect the cut. An occasional flurry from Bugner prevented Ali from launching an attempt to knock him out.

Ali coasted a bit in the fifth and sixth rounds. Many observers thought he was easing up in order to go all-out to put Bugner away in the seventh, as predicted. That didn’t happen, but Ali did appear intent on finishing his man in the tenth.

In that frame Ali opened up and raked Bugner with a series of lefts and rights that left the younger man’s face a bloody mask. Bugner’s corner did a fantastic job of cleaning their fighter up between rounds. However, Ali’s jab repeatedly speared the cut over the next two rounds, and the former champ appeared to have won a lopsided decision.

However, the judges’ scoring was surprisingly close. On a five-point system, Roland Dakin had it 57–54; Ralph Mosa 57–52; and Lou Talbot 56–53, all for Ali.

Still, Bugner had performed better than most had believed possible. He demonstrated a good left jab, a sturdy chin, courage under fire, and a great deal of potential. Above all, he proved he wasn’t just another “horizontal heavyweight” from Jolly Olde England.

Ali predicted a bright future for Britain’s “Golden Boy.” “I should be out of this thing in 1¹⁄²to two years.”

Ali said, providing an intimation of mortality. “I’ll give him two years, and he’ll be the world’s heavyweight champion with no trouble.”¹⁰

Ali also said Bugner was three times better than he’d been during their sparring sessions a year or two earlier. He even indicated that if he hadn’t trained so industriously, Bugner might possibly have won the fight. Others took issue with that assessment, believing that Ali had overtrained, and had he been a little sharper, he would have stopped the Briton.

Overall, though, Ali was pleased with his performance. Having bested a man nine years his junior, the Greatest was looking for better things in 1973.

But Ali, like Frazier a few weeks earlier, was about to learn that “pride goeth before a fall.”