It was blessedly brief. It was bizarre. It was for a good
cause.
But is it a good cause when a proud man, Joe Frazier,
former heavyweight champion of the world, a boxer of unbelievable courage, plays the fool? When he staggers across a ring on crippled knees, crippled back, and with a mind that was thinking who knows what to trade three minutes of pulled love taps with the mayor of Memphis?
Sorry, it was like watching Johnny Unitas at 62 trying to
throw a 60-yard spiral or Larry Finch in his later years trying to hit a
three-pointer. It was borderline indecent, especially in the third “round” when
Frazier stumbled, tumbled, and nearly fell through the ropes and out of the
ring. Herenton, as gentlemanly as he is athletic, immediately grasped the
situation and barely laid a glove on the former champ. It was like watching a
grandfather playing with his infant grandchildren.
The mayor, aka “The Duke,” wearing electric blue trunks
with a white stripe, white shoes, and high white socks, looked fit, rangy, and
ready for some actual sparring. He danced backwards, ducked in, and generally
looked like a boxer. Frazier, wearing green and yellow, looked ready for a bed
at the Campbell Clinic.
The money raised from the event at The Peabody will go to
benefit the drug court. It should not be repeated.
John Branston
