Tris Dixon - Warrior

First published by Pitch Publishing, 2022

Pitch Publishing

A2 Yeoman Gate

Yeoman Way

Durrington

BN13 3QZ

www.pitchpublishing.co.uk

Tris Dixon, 2022

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Print ISBN 9781801500708

eBook ISBN 9781801502986

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THE FIRST time I met Matthew Saad Muhammad, he was still Matthew Franklin. I tapped him on his back. It was like concrete. Inside his sharp white suit was a physique of solid muscle and on his face was that great, unforgettable smile. He was such a handsome guy and always so well-dressed. But he was never a bragger and had such a nice way about him.

He was about 6ft tall, a good-sized light-heavyweight and very strong. I would go to his fights at the Spectrum in Philadelphia. Id sit at ringside, and watch Matthew Franklin go to work.

His best defence was his offence. I used to yell at his corner, Keep your fucking right hand up, because he was getting hit by left hooks all the time. Hed look over at me and Id say, Dont look at me, look at the guy punching you!

But if Matthew caught you, hed really hurt you. His chin was incredible, too, and his recuperative powers were as amazing as his will to win. He was a real warrior. You couldnt hurt him and Matthew got hit by the best of them. Theyd think they had him but hed catch them with a shot and that was it. For a time, he was unstoppable.

Matthew fought Marvin Johnson twice and Marvin was a tough bastard. He could punch, he was left-handed, an Olympic bronze medallist. You had two young guys in their twenties, hard as nails. Marvin had skills, then it turned into a war. Matthew won both of those fights.

I was at the first John Conteh fight in Atlantic City, and I thought Conteh was an excellent fighter. A good boxer and a good puncher. It was another great bout. Conteh was winning but Matthew, like he always used to, started getting to him later and John just couldnt keep him off. Saad was so damn strong. He was a tough, tough guy.

I knew Nick and Joe Belfiore, his first trainers. I went backstage after the Conteh fight to say hello to Matt, who had recently changed his name, and hes surrounded by people with sunglasses and bow ties. They were giving me some attitude before Nick told them I was okay. Who were these guys? Nick explained that Matthew had joined the Nation of Islam. He said, You know what the sad thing is, Frank? Hes going to end up broke and punchy. And thats how he ended up.

Nick and Joe loved Matt. They treated him like he was a son. When the Nation of Islam took over, he put those guys on the back shelf. I think it broke their hearts, because they thought of him so highly.

Back in the day, Matthew had it all. He had a white Steinway piano, a Rolls-Royce, all the bullshit. He had a really nice life yet ended up living in a hostel, which was terrible because he made good money.

By the time he fought Dwight Braxton, who would later be known as Dwight Muhammad Qawi, Matthew had taken too many shots and hed taken a lot of punishment. He went for the Clubber Lang part in Rocky III. I remember me and Sly talked about him, but I was only there when Earnie Shavers and Joe Frazier came down and read. I knew they werent going to get the part.

Many years later, he was on the Rocky Balboa set and Sly said, Saads here. I could tell Matthew was shot. He was a little heavier, maybe 205lbs, and when I talked to him, he sounded a little slurry. But that great smile was still there. He should have retired after that first Qawi fight and he might have been okay. Its always after they lose the title that the downside comes, when the accumulated punches take hold.

People talked about his life story becoming a movie and I dont know why it didnt happen. Boxing movies are a really hard sell. I think Rocky was big because its more of a love story and Rocky just happens to be a boxer. In boxing, there are a lot of tragic stories but Matthew was always Matt, this nice guy with a great heart. I saw him at a reunion with Yaqui Lopez and they were getting on so well but Matthew was friends with everyone he fought.

Back in the day, he was always trying to better himself. One time I tried to get him to come out with me and he said he couldnt come because he had elocution lessons.

He was my man. I loved him.

ABANDONED
15-16 JUNE, 1959

STAY CLOSE together.

The youngest boy was almost out of the front door when the older child spun around and nodded subtly to the woman.

The door slammed behind the boys and they were off and running down the street.

They laughed and joked, pushed one another and played and then, with time passing by, the older boy vanished.

The younger child, only four or five, grinned happily and began to search for his brother.

They had gone from tag to hide and seek, clearly. The boy looked excitedly behind parked cars, then started checking beneath them.

He ran down one end of a bustling street and investigated heaving avenues. No luck. He ran back to where he last saw his brother but the older boy hadnt returned.

The youngsters enthusiasm wasnt dampened. He crossed the street and went the other way, peering through doorways, running in front of slow walkers and shoppers to try and catch up with his brother.

Was he somewhere out of sight, watching the little boys every move?

Was he about to jump out and start laughing again?

Time started to get on and the young lads excitement and optimism were starting to transform in to a panic.

His legs were growing tired, his feet were getting sore.

He ran and ran, not knowing where he was going and before long, he didnt know how to get back to where he had started, either.

It started to get dark. The boy was so shy he couldnt bring himself to ask for help and as the sun started to shrink and the night air began to bite, he thought he might get in trouble when he got home for catching a cold.

Distress and desperation replaced expectation. If it had been a game, he was losing badly.

He tried to talk to several strangers but couldnt form words, let alone sentences and then hed run off, terrified. Sometimes he would run up to a person but be so scared he would just run again. He muttered, panicked, a shocked look across his face and then hed sprint on, hoping to catch his brother.

Time ticked by, minutes turned into hours, and he had no idea where he was and the busy period when no one stopped to talk was replaced by a still, urban quiet.