• Complain

Sugar Ray Robinson - Sugar Ray

Here you can read online Sugar Ray Robinson - Sugar Ray full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. year: 2014, publisher: Da Capo Press, genre: Non-fiction / History. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

Romance novel Science fiction Adventure Detective Science History Home and family Prose Art Politics Computer Non-fiction Religion Business Children Humor

Choose a favorite category and find really read worthwhile books. Enjoy immersion in the world of imagination, feel the emotions of the characters or learn something new for yourself, make an fascinating discovery.

No cover

Sugar Ray: summary, description and annotation

We offer to read an annotation, description, summary or preface (depends on what the author of the book "Sugar Ray" wrote himself). If you haven't found the necessary information about the book — write in the comments, we will try to find it.

Sugar Ray Robinson (19211989) was hailed as the finest boxer to ever enter a ring. Muhammad Ali once called him the king, my master, my idoland indeed, he was the idol of everyone who had anything to do with boxing. But for African Americans, he was more than a great boxer. In an era when blacks were supposed to be humble and grateful for favors received, he was a man whose every move in and out of the ring showed what black pride and power meant.Sugar Ray grew up during the Depression in the ghettos of Detroit and New York, rose through the amateur boxing ranks, became Golden Gloves champion at the featherweight at the age of eighteen, and become world welterweight champion in 1946 and middleweight in 1951. Robinson had it all, but later lost it all; and in this classic autobiography he tells it all with remarkable candor. Here is Sugar Ray: the dazzlingly handsome champion with a craving for fast cars and fast living; the kid who was terrified of elevators; the young GI who, together with Joe Louis, combated racial discrimination; the honest fighter who refused a million dollars to throw a fight against Rocky Graziano; the boxer who dreamed he would kill his opponent in the ring, and did so the following night.This Da Capo edition is supplemented with a new foreword and afterword by Dave Anderson about Sugar Rays last years in Los Angeles and the legacy he left behind, and with eight new pages of stunning photographs

Sugar Ray Robinson: author's other books


Who wrote Sugar Ray? Find out the surname, the name of the author of the book and a list of all author's works by series.

Sugar Ray — read online for free the complete book (whole text) full work

Below is the text of the book, divided by pages. System saving the place of the last page read, allows you to conveniently read the book "Sugar Ray" online for free, without having to search again every time where you left off. Put a bookmark, and you can go to the page where you finished reading at any time.

Light

Font size:

Reset

Interval:

Bookmark:

Make
Table of Contents To Bernadette who taught me the best prizes in life are - photo 1
Table of Contents To Bernadette who taught me the best prizes in life are - photo 2
Table of Contents

To Bernadette,
who taught me
the best prizes in life
are not won in the ring
PREFACE
My eyes never lie.
They were open wide, staring back at me in the mirror of the dressing room at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. Those eyes would reveal which of the two dueling personalities would enter the ring as I took on the most intimidating opponent of my career, Marvin Hagler. It was nearly seven oclock on the night of April 6, 1987, the opening bell only about an hour away.
Would it be Sugar Ray Leonard, the star of numerous conquests in the past, an American hero since capturing the gold medal in Montreal more than a decade earlier, the anointed heir to the throne vacated by Muhammad Ali? Sugar Ray was resilient, fearless, unwilling to accept failure. The smile and innocence of a child, which made him a hit on TV, would be gone, replaced in the ring by a man filled with rage he did not understand, determined to cause great harm to another.
Or would it be Ray Leonard, the part-time boxer at the age of thirty, whose best was well behind him, his days and nights wasted on fights that never made the headlines, fights he lost over and over, to alcohol and cocaine and depression? This was a man full of fear and self-pity, blaming everyone but the person most responsible for his fatehimself.
In the room, with no one around, I kept my eyes glued on the eyes in the mirror. They were alive, probing, big, like flashlights. I looked at the muscles in my shoulders, my arms. They were cut, defined, powerful.
I began to slowly shadowbox, watching my legs, then my eyes, back to my legs, then my eyes again. Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! I threw a left, a right, another left, another right. Sweat dripped down my forehead, my breathing heavier.
There was a knock at the door to let me know it was time. I didnt say a word. I took one last look at my eyes. I recognized them. They were Sugar Rays.
I walked out. Surrounded by my trainer, Angelo Dundee, bodyguard James Anderson, brothers Roger and Kenny, and about a dozen others, I started the familiar procession down the aisle, a strange and special ritual unlike any other in sports, cheered on by the hungry masses out for blood, marching toward glory or shame or, worse, death. During the several minutes it took to reach the ropes, I remained unscathed, as did Hagler, our bodies honed from months of sparring and running to be ready for this one momentous night. Soon we would be unscathed no more, both forced to pay the dues for the brutal profession we had chosen, or, as many of us in the Sweet Science prefer to believe, had chosen us.
I proceeded as slowly as possible, savoring the feelings I had not experienced in almost three years, since I defeated Kevin Howard and retired again, this time, I assumed, for good. Howard, nowhere near the fighter I was, knocked me to the canvas in the fourth round. I got up right away, more humiliated than hurt, and summoned enough will to prevail in the ninth. But my heart was not in the fight game anymore, and if one is not committed, disaster is certain to strike. Lacking the motivation wasnt a problem against Hagler. From the moment I decided in the spring of 1986 to take him on, I was sure of one thing: I wanted to tear the man apart.
The odds were heavily against me, and why wouldnt they be? Boxing was filled with proud warriors who came out of retirement only to discover that they should have stayed away forever, their skills never the same after the long layoff, the saddest example being the legendary Joe Louis, the hero to my father and millions of African Americans, beaten eventually by a much younger Rocky Marciano in 1951. I knew I would be assuming the same risk as the others before me, and not only to my body. At stake at Caesars was something just as importantmy reputation. When I first retired as a pro in 1982, I prided myself on being the rare exception in my sport, the fighter wise enough to get out before it became too late. If I was whipped by Hagler, a very real possibilityhe hadnt lost in eleven yearsI would join the long list of disgraced exchampions, leaving one lasting, pathetic image for the public I worked endlessly to impress.
Over the previous five years, I spent less than twenty-seven minutes in the ring while Hagler took on eight opponents (fifty-seven rounds) during the same period. While I trained more vigorously for Hagler than for any prior opponentI sparred for well over two hundred roundsno amount of effort on the speed bag, the heavy bag, jumping rope, and running could compare to an actual fight against a man coming from the opposite corner whose prime objective is to inflict as much damage as is humanly possible. My sparring partners never let up. They had careers they were hoping to build.
In training camp at Hilton Head, South Carolina, I felt in control of myself and the surroundings. There was a plan I stuck to every day. On fight night in Las Vegas, I felt in control again, but didnt know if the plan would work. A fighter never knows till the bell rings.
There was also the injury to my left eye, which had led to the initial retirement. The official diagnosis was a partially detached retina, which could have left me, if the doctors did not operate as soon as they did, blinded in that eye for life.
The possibility of reinjuring the eye was on my mind during the Howard bout and in the months leading up to the encounter with Hagler. What if I thought about the eye again, if for only an instant, during the fight itself? Marvin Hagler was no Kevin Howard. He said if I was foolish enough to take him on, he was foolish enough to rip my eye out. He meant it.
Haglers bravado didnt frighten me, though it did get to my family, who were already alarmed enough to begin with. They never actually came out and shared their concerns for my safety, yet I saw the look in their eyes, just as I saw it among the members of my camp. They were afraid I might get seriously hurt. Nobody was more ferocious during the 1980s than Hagler. In 1981, he gave Mustafa Hamsho such a thorough pounding that he required fifty-five stitches to plug the cuts in his skin.
Perhaps more worried than anyone were members of the Nevada State Athletic Commission, which held jurisdiction over the bout. Not every state gave a license to a fighter with a detached retina. If my eye suffered permanent damage, the commissioners, picked by the governor, would be the ones dealing with the fallout. To protect itself, the commission asked me to take one final exam. I wasnt crazy about the burning sensation caused by the drops the doctors put in my eyes to dilate them, but I agreed. I had come too far over the past eleven months to let the opportunity slip away. I passed the exam. The fight was on.

It was just after eight P.M. As the challenger, I was the first to climb under the ropes.
Wearing a short, Elvis-style white jacket, I received a warm reception from the fans and enjoyed every second of it. Life after boxing can be rewarding in many ways, but nothing comes close to the sound of applause, and any ex-fighter who claims he doesnt miss it is lying. Hagler was next, starting his procession down the aisle, the familiar scowl planted firmly on his face, accompanied by War, the antiVietnam War anthem from the late sixties.
What was he thinking? Did this most macho of fighting men have any doubts of his own? Did he worry about a different Hagler showing up on this, the most important night of his career? We all attempt to hide whats most vulnerable about us. Perhaps Haglers fierceness was related to something equally frightened within the man himself.
Next page
Light

Font size:

Reset

Interval:

Bookmark:

Make

Similar books «Sugar Ray»

Look at similar books to Sugar Ray. We have selected literature similar in name and meaning in the hope of providing readers with more options to find new, interesting, not yet read works.


Reviews about «Sugar Ray»

Discussion, reviews of the book Sugar Ray and just readers' own opinions. Leave your comments, write what you think about the work, its meaning or the main characters. Specify what exactly you liked and what you didn't like, and why you think so.