Floyd Patterson interview.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 9:47

Dave's article, published yesterday, concerning ' keeping it clean, ' and the nice guys of boxing, prompted me to lift this Associated Press interview with Floyd Patterson from my hard drive and share it with you all. I believe it offers a wonderful insight into Patterson, who had just lost his job due to his exhibiting the symptoms of pugilistica dementia.

Not a single word of this is my work, but rather the entire piece is a straight copy and paste of the original article. It's pretty long, but I'm sure some of you will find it fascinating, just as I did.

Enjoy.

LOSSES STILL HAUNT FORMER CHAMP

(The Associated Press, Sunday, August 2, 1998)

Chin smashed, head spinning, the battered champion slumped against the ropes and gazed into the crowd - directly into the eyes of John Wayne.

Thirty-nine years later, he still cringes at the memory.

"This famous American hero had come to watch me fight, and I was losing the title to another country," Floyd Patterson says. "It was the most embarrassing moment of my life."

KO'd in the third round by Ingemar Johansson of Sweden, Patterson drove home in disgrace. For the next few months he brooded in seclusion, avoiding friends, trainers, even members of his family.

"You have to understand what it is like to be champion of the world and then
not to be champion," he says.

But what hurt most of all was that nagging inner doubt that always seems to strike when he is down, the feeling that somehow -- despite all the titles, the trophies, the money and the glory --the great Floyd Patterson hasn't quite measured up. He felt it as a child when he scratched X's across a photograph of himself, telling his mother, "I don't like that boy." He felt it after he was bludgeoned senseless by Sonny Liston in 126 seconds on Sept. 25, 1962. Patterson slunk out of the stadium in a false beard and mustache.

And he felt it again on April 1, when he was forced to resign as chairman of the New York State Athletic Commission, which regulates boxing in the state. Grilled for hours by lawyers for ultimate fighting - the no-holds-barred sport that is banned in New York -- the ex-champ fumbled miserably. He couldn't remember beating Archie Moore to become the youngest heavyweight champion of the world in 1956. He couldn't remember his aide's name. Patterson protested that he hadn't slept much the night before and that his memory is never good when he is tired.

But the headlines were unforgiving: On The Ropes, Dazed and Confused. Their message was clear. The charismatic "gentleman" of boxing, appointed by Gov. George Pataki in 1995 to put a fresh face on the sport, to rebuild New York as boxing's Mecca, was too punch-drunk to handle the $76,421 job. Patterson refuses to discuss it, but his face crumples when the subject is raised. Friends say what hurts the most is the feeling that he let the governor down.

He hasn't appeared at a fight since.

But he cannot stay away from the sport that made him king, that rescued him from the poorest streets of Brooklyn and offered him the world.

"If it wasn't for boxing," Patterson says, "I would probably be behind bars or dead."

This is his argument to those who say boxing is for brutes and gangsters. This is his argument to those who say the sport should be banned. This is his argument as he gazes around his living room, a virtual shrine to his past, the walls draped with pictures of fighters and presidents and stars. Muhammad Ali, Joe Louis. Joe Frazier. Richard Nixon. Ronald Reagan. Frank Sinatra. John Wayne. Patterson has punched or shaken hands with them all. He has counted many as friends. In pride of place in one corner, a huge photograph of Patterson and John F. Kennedy at the White House in 1962. The president gave the champion his tie-pin and begged him not to fight Liston. Patterson's manager begged him, too. Liston, with his prison record and alleged mob connections, was unfit to be champion, they argued. Besides, they were terrified that the "hulking brute" who outweighed Patterson by at least 25 pounds would kill their noble hero.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," Patterson said. "The title is not worth anything if the best fighters can't have a shot at it. And Liston deserves a shot."

Nine months later, Liston demolished him.

At 63, Patterson lives up to his reputation as a gentleman both in and out of the ring. His polite friendliness and pompadour hairstyle give him a slightly old-fashioned charm. He opens doors for women with a stiff little bow - and says they have no place in the ring. The man who once wondered what he was doing in the Hall of Fame ("Isn't that for guys like Joe Louis?") still seems genuinely touched when asked for an autograph.

In person, Patterson appears smaller than he did in the ring, but he still has those massive forearms and his fighting weight of 185 pounds. He looks fit enough for a title fight.

"When I get up in the morning and I run and I work out in the gym it puts me on a physical high that is so good I don't need any other drug," Patterson says. "This is what boxing did for me, and for hundreds of kids that I've trained. It steered them off alcohol and drugs and put them on a path of physical fitness for the rest of their lives."

The speech is Patterson's mantra: He's been giving it for years. In one afternoon, he repeats it four times. The champion repeats himself a lot these days.

But boxing has given him far more than pride in his body. It made him a rich man. Patterson won $13 million for 20 years of professional fighting that included 64 fights, among them 40 knockout victories. And boxing has given him this comfortable old farmhouse on 17 acres, about 75 miles north of New York City, where he lives with his wife, Janet. The fighter raised his two youngest children here, daughters from his second marriage. It's a beautiful place, wooded and quiet, just outside the town of New Paltz at the base of Mohonk Mountain. Patterson fell in love with the area as a teen-ager when he was dumped into a reform school a few miles away. It was the first time the young truant had seen mountains and woods and deer. It was the first time he didn't steal to eat.

"Until then, I thought everyone lived in rundown concrete buildings in Brooklyn," he says in a soft tenor voice that seems to complement shy eyes. "I promised myself that if I ever had enough money, I would buy a house here." Actually, his first big purse went to buy a house in Mount Vernon, N.Y., for his parents and most of his 10 siblings. He was 21 at the time, a sensitive kid with furious fists, who relied on his manager and mentor, Constantine "Cus" D'Amato, to do most of his talking. It was under D'Amato that Patterson perfected his unorthodox "peekaboo" style, blocking punches by holding both gloves tight to his face, peeping at his opponent, bobbing and weaving all the time.

"Cus did everything to protect the fighter," Patterson says, springing into the peekaboo posture, his huge hands cupped to his face. "In my case, it worked," he adds, grinning. "See, I don't have a flat chin or cauliflower ears like other fighters." Patterson throws combination punches at his imaginary opponent, scampering across his living room floor with some of the speed - if not the stamina - of the old days. Between grunts, he tells the story of D'Amato's Gramercy Park gym, how he tagged along with his older brothers when he was about 14, how he wanted to cry the first time he was hit, how three years later the crybaby was a champion. Golden Gloves in 1951. Olympic gold in 1952. First professional fight the same year. By the time he reached Chicago Stadium on Nov. 30, 1956, Patterson was unstoppable. He sprang at Archie Moore with a fifth-round left hook and became heavyweight champion of the world. He was 21. Patterson made $114,257 for the fight, more money than he had ever dreamed His first child was born the same day. There were parties and parades and speeches. Congratulations poured in from around the world.

All the new father could think about was how sorry he felt for Moore.

The fighter's killer instinct. The victor's remorse. Patterson's struggle to reconcile the two has led some critics to question if "the gentle gladiator" was too soft for blood sport. Too vulnerable.

"Floyd was probably too kind," says Jimmy Glenn, Patterson's corner man for many years. "He's the kind of guy, you slap him on one cheek, he turns the other."

Glenn tells how Patterson once stooped to pick up an opponent's mouthpiece during a fight. Others recall Patterson easing up on blows if his opponent was hurting, helping Tom McNeeley to his feet in 1961 after knocking him down, backing off Eddie Machen in a 1964 fight, knowing his opponent had suffered a nervous breakdown.

"The problem with my father," says his 29-year-old daughter, Jennifer, "is that other men just never measure up."

Patterson shrugs off compliments, much as he shrugged off the critics all these years, those who wrote that he was just a glorified middleweight, those who said he had a glass chin.

"Floyd Patterson was unique in that he achieved something Mother Nature never intended him to achieve," says boxing historian Hank Kaplan. "He didn't belong fighting those monsters, and he wouldn't have lasted in today's fight. But he had an awful lot of courage and an awful lot of determination."

True, Patterson lacked the dazzle of Ali, the brute force of Liston, the athletic beauty of middleweight Sugar Ray Robinson, his personal favorite. But he had a heart that other boxers admired, a doggedness and intensity that won over the critics.

"They said I was the fighter who got knocked down the most," he says, "but I also got up the most."

Proud as he is of his record, Patterson says he is just as proud of how far he has come outside the ring. Today, the fighter - whose 1962 autobiography is titled "Victory Over Myself" - can laugh about the disguises he once hid in his locker room. Today he is more curious than embarrassed by the emotions he felt winning and losing.

"The only thing I know is that victory means your opponent lost, defeat means you lost," he says. "Either way, someone has got to leave the ring feeling bad. I always thought I would be happy if it could just be a draw."

He smiles a bit sheepishly as he recites this sporting heresy.

"Don't get me wrong," he adds. "I love victory, but I've run into a lot of nice guys in boxing. I just don't want to see anyone get hurt."

The nice guys include Johansson, the Swede who took away Patterson's heavyweight title and, for a year, his pride. Patterson regained the title in 1960, the first heavyweight to do so, after a vengeful bout that left Johansson comatose, his leg quivering. Bending over his opponent, Patterson remembers the terror. He had spent a year as a recluse, hating this man, training to kill him. What if he had succeeded?

Today Patterson and Johansson are friends. They have run marathons together. They visit each other regularly in Sweden and New York. Johansson jokes that Patterson - who once owned a string of Swedish fast-food restaurants that served "Floydburgers" - is more popular in Sweden than he is. He calls Patterson, "a helluva champion, inside the ring and outside."

The nice guys include Ali, the irrepressible showman who launched his poetry career with a rhyme about his boyhood idol:

"A lot of people say that Floyd couldn't fight
"But you should have seen him on that comeback night,
"He cut up his eyes and mussed up his face,
"And that last left hook knocked his head out of place!"

Patterson chuckles when Ali's name is mentioned and, eyes twinkling says, "You mean Cassius Clay?" He has never called Ali by anything but "the name his mother gave him." Ali, in return, insults Patterson by calling him "the rabbit."

Their name-calling has mellowed over the years, since Ali hammered Patterson's left eye shut in Madison Square Garden in 1972 and ended his professional career. Ali, Patterson says, was a brilliant fighter, but he shouldn't have opened himself up to so many blows, should have protected his head more. "Not that he ever opened himself up to me," he quips, referring to his two losses to Ali.

Patterson also lost twice to Liston, who was dethroned by Ali in 1964, one year after Liston wiped the canvas with Patterson. Patterson watched the Ali-Liston fight from a ringside seat. He remembered John Wayne's eyes. After the fight, he made his way to Liston's hotel room and knocked on the door. The loser was alone, his ego more bruised than his body. "Sonny," Patterson told him, "You haven't really lost anything."

The two remained friends until Liston's death four years later, of an apparent heroin overdose.

"The fights you lose," Patterson says, as though he is still consoling Liston or coaching one of his students, "are the ones that teach you the most about yourself."

This is what D'Amato taught him, and what he passed on to his son: that boxing leaves you naked to the world, in all your emotions, your strength and your pain; that the blows outside the ring are the ones that hurt the most, they are the ones that define a true champion.

Beside her husband, Janet puffs on a cigarette and listens intently. Patterson long ago gave up nagging his wife to stop smoking. She long ago gave up trying to protect him from pain. Not that she could do anything once he was in the ring, except throw a party and pray. At other times, though, she's the fighter in the family, fiercely guarding her husband's privacy and good name, screening his calls, prompting him gently when he can't remember dates.

"Floyd is often too hard on himself," she says, "and too soft on everyone else."

It is Janet who proudly tells friends about Patterson's new job, counseling troubled children for the state Office of Children and Family Services. It is she who prods him into talking about his accomplishments on the commission: promoting title fights in Madison Square Garden, pushing for a pension for old boxers, supporting legislation against ultimate fighting. And it is Janet who boasts how her husband is the hero of the local nursing home, where he spends hours every Sunday serving communion.

"The eucharistic minister with the biggest hands," Patterson jokes, holding up the fists that made him.

In a converted chicken coop behind the house he shows what those fists can do. Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat, rat-ta-ta-tat. The small black bag whizzes overhead, the sound as magical as the speed.Patterson loses himself in its rhythm, its familiarity. His gloves become a red blur.

This is where the lawyers should come if they want to grill Floyd Patterson.

The champion doesn't slip up here, he doesn't forget. This musty little gym is where his memories lie. They tumble out of the faded posters on the walls: of the day Ali invaded his training camp, brandishing bunches of carrots and crying "carrots for the rabbit"; of the hundreds of youngsters he trained in this ring; of the day he met the sensitive kid with the furious fists who reminded him of himself.

He walks over to the heavy bag and slams his fists into the layers of duct tape that patch up the dents from the past.

"Sixty percent," Patterson says, rating his form the way he did in the old days: 90 percent when he won against Johannson, zero percent against Liston.

Never 100.

"If you are 100 percent, you have nothing to aim for so you might as well give up."

Patterson pounds the heavy bag one more time. It swings back, low and fast and the boxer embraces it in a bearhug. His smile is one of sheer joy.

The champion may not be 100 percent, but this is as close as it gets.

by Rowley Thu 24 Feb - 9:55

The title is not worth anything if the best fighters can't have a shot at it. And Liston deserves a shot.
___________________________________________________________

Lovely stuff Windy, this sentence above about sums Patterson up, a guy he had little to no chance of beating and yet Floyd insisted on facing him for the simple and eminently true reason it was the right thing to do. Class personified inside and outside the ring.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 9:59

rowley wrote:The title is not worth anything if the best fighters can't have a shot at it. And Liston deserves a shot.
___________________________________________________________

Lovely stuff Windy, this sentence above about sums Patterson up, a guy he had little to no chance of beating and yet Floyd insisted on facing him for the simple and eminently true reason it was the right thing to do. Class personified inside and outside the ring.

Glad you enjoyed it, jeff.

Absolutely agree with you that the sentence which you quoted sums Floyd up. I've always maintained that Patterson might not be a great heavyweight champion but he was a great man who held the heavyweight championship.

The modern game could do with a few who share his philosophy.

by **Union Cane** Thu 24 Feb - 10:04

Great stuff Windy, thanks for sharing.

:friend:

by Shantel Jackson Boyfriend Thu 24 Feb - 10:05

Human Windmill

He may not of had much of a chin but he did have a big heart to keep getting up from the knockdowns. Floyd Patterson a true gentleman and a great role model. Definetly a legend in my eyes , he helped put boxing on the map.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 10:06

You're welcome, Union.

Glad you enjoyed it, and on a personal note, I'm equally glad that you signed on here.

Your insights and humour would have been missed had you not done so.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 10:09

Shantel Jackson Boyfriend wrote:Human Windmill

He may not of had much of a chin but he did have a big heart to keep getting up from the knockdowns. Floyd Patterson a true gentleman and a great role model. Definetly a legend in my eyes , he helped put boxing on the map.

Bang on, Shantel.

Floyd never forgot his roots, and never lost his humanity.

I often wonder how we'd view him today if there had been a cruiser division when he was coming up. I dare say we'd be debating whether he or Holyfield would be deserving of top spot.

by skidd1 Thu 24 Feb - 10:12

Thats a great article and very thought provoking.
I had never really rated Patterson .I suppose growing up in the Ali era the images of Floyd were always the knockouts and knockdowns.
Articles like this redress the balance
I didn't know he stayed friends with Liston.A small group I guess!
Insightfull comments as well about Ali or should it be Clay in the context of the text.

by Adam D Thu 24 Feb - 10:13

HumanW - PM for you.

by Shantel Jackson Boyfriend Thu 24 Feb - 10:21

Human Windmill

He would give Holyfield a run for his money at both cruiser and heavyweight. David Haye vs Floyd Patterson would have been a great tear up as well. His legacy would have been enhanced 3 weight world champion. Would of cleared up light heavy and cruiser today. More than capable of beating Wlad and Haye at heavy but Vitali may be a step too far.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 10:22

Hobo wrote:HumanW - PM for you.

Hobo,

Thank you very much, though I must confess that I have no idea what a PM is. I'm afraid I'm only semi - literate when it comes to that sort of stuff.

skidd,

Thanks for your contribution. I'm pleased you enjoyed the interview. Like you, I feel that Patterson sometimes doesn't get his dues, and I've been as guilty as anybody in this regard. It takes me to re watch the Johansson trilogy, or the Chuvalo or Bonavena fights to remind me just how good Floyd was, notwithstanding that he was vulnerable to the big hitters.

by Adam D Thu 24 Feb - 10:25

HumanWindmill wrote:
Hobo wrote:HumanW - PM for you.

Hobo,

Thank you very much, though I must confess that I have no idea what a PM is. I'm afraid I'm only semi - literate when it comes to that sort of stuff.

Its a personal message - if you look at the top of the page, it will say you have a personal message - click on it and you will go to your inbox.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 10:26

Shantel Jackson Boyfriend wrote:Human Windmill

He would give Holyfield a run for his money at both cruiser and heavyweight. David Haye vs Floyd Patterson would have been a great tear up as well. His legacy would have been enhanced 3 weight world champion. Would of cleared up light heavy and cruiser today. More than capable of beating Wlad and Haye at heavy but Vitali may be a step too far.

Funny thing is, Shantel, that in '68 Patterson fought Jimmy Ellis, for Ellis' share of the title, in Sweden. Ellis got the decision, but it was hotly disputed. I was taking Ring magazine at the time and they called it a robbery. A short time later I saw the fight and I still believe to this day that it is one of the worst decisions I've ever seen.

Had Patterson gotten the nod he would have been a three time champion and his stock would surely be higher today.

by Zeb the owl Thu 24 Feb - 10:30

Doesnt show the current HW champs in the best light, given their monopoly they hold over the titles and the reluctance to make a fight with boxers who will give them a fight, maybe im being a bit harsh as they dont have anyone of the standard of Liston as a major contender but i think negotiations over contracts would be a lot smoother if there were a few more like floyd still in the game.

Patterson was a true great, thanks for the article windy, enjoyed reading that.

by azania Thu 24 Feb - 10:32

Very humble guy indeed. Good read.

by Rodney Thu 24 Feb - 10:36

What a cracking article and read that was Windy, top marks for posting that I appreciate it.

Always wondered had Patterson stayed at Light Heavy what damage he would've done, can't imagine many if any being able to live him with in any era at 175lb/

Thanks Again

Rodders

by Shantel Jackson Boyfriend Thu 24 Feb - 10:37

Human Windmill

It was probably the worse decision in heavyweight world title fight history, he beat Ellis up real bad. Ironically Patterson got robbed against Quarry in the fight prior to that as well in world title eliminator. The referee ruled a knockdown by Patterson as a slip and gave the fight to Ellis. Maybe in hindsight it was a good thing as he would of faced Frazier next and I shed to think what Frazier would have done to him.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 10:43

Zeb, azania, Rodney,

Very pleased you enjoyed it, fellas, and thanks for your contributions.

Shantel, I'd probably disagree with you about the Quarry fight, though I haven't watched it for years, and to be honest I'm not even sure that I still have it. I did, however, see it at the time and I don't remember seeing anything wrong with it.

Will check to see if I still have it, and if not I might plunder youtube to see if they have it so that I can watch it again.

Thanks for your contributions.

by Imperial Ghosty Thu 24 Feb - 10:53

The biggest compliment you can give him or anyone has given is the fact Ali has always let him call him Cassius, were he lesser a man can only imagine the torrent of abuse he'd have received for that.

Could have held the title for much longer but did the right thing knowing he couldn't win against Liston.

by manos de piedra Thu 24 Feb - 11:02

Zeb the owl wrote:Doesnt show the current HW champs in the best light, given their monopoly they hold over the titles and the reluctance to make a fight with boxers who will give them a fight, maybe im being a bit harsh as they dont have anyone of the standard of Liston as a major contender but i think negotiations over contracts would be a lot smoother if there were a few more like floyd still in the game.

Patterson was a true great, thanks for the article windy, enjoyed reading that.

Like who?

The current heavyweight champions have been been systematically beating the top contenders in the division for years. The problems lie with the numerous and devalued titles. If their was only one title and one challenger as per Listons day then theres nothing to suggest they would have done anything different.

by **Union Cane** Thu 24 Feb - 11:09

The problem for me is summed up by the phrase "current heavyweight champions", and the fact that it is just accepted that the two best heavyweights simply refuse to fight each other.

The top contender for WK's titles has been VK, and the top contender for VK's has been WK, yet they continually duck each other for years, and that's apparently fine.

This is not the right place for this rant, sorry.

by Daz Thu 24 Feb - 11:40

Great read Windy - thanks for Sharing!

A point that i picked up on was that he campaigns for legislation against Ultimate fighting. Not sure why he does that. UFC has changed massively in the past 5 years and is actually quite a safer sport than most people think.

A great human being, a 2 time heavyweight world champion and bucket loads of humility.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 12:11

Pleased you enjoyed it, Daz, and thanks for your input.

I'm afraid I know absolutely nothing about UFC so I can't comment intelligently. However, you clearly know the sport so I'm more than happy to take your word.

by Shantel Jackson Boyfriend Thu 24 Feb - 12:37

HumanWindmill

I have only seen it once but at the time I thought Patterson got robbed.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 12:48

Shantel Jackson Boyfriend wrote:HumanWindmill

I have only seen it once but at the time I thought Patterson got robbed.

You may be right, mate.

As I say, it's a long time since I've seen it. Floyd was definitely robbed against Ellis, though. He forced the fight, broke Ellis' nose and generally did a number on him. The referee was the sole judge, and I have no idea which fight he was watching.

by Shantel Jackson Boyfriend Thu 24 Feb - 12:52

Human Windmill

That referee makes Sven Ottke fights look fair. Patterson knocked him down and he counted it as a slip.

by Zeb the owl Thu 24 Feb - 13:00

manos de piedra wrote:
Zeb the owl wrote:Doesnt show the current HW champs in the best light, given their monopoly they hold over the titles and the reluctance to make a fight with boxers who will give them a fight, maybe im being a bit harsh as they dont have anyone of the standard of Liston as a major contender but i think negotiations over contracts would be a lot smoother if there were a few more like floyd still in the game.

Patterson was a true great, thanks for the article windy, enjoyed reading that.

Like who?

The current heavyweight champions have been been systematically beating the top contenders in the division for years. The problems lie with the numerous and devalued titles. If their was only one title and one challenger as per Listons day then theres nothing to suggest they would have done anything different.

They would have done something different and i think Union has summed it up with the fact that WK wont fight VK as they are brothers and this monopolises the belts somewhat (therefore like now, a fight that should happen wont). I understand them not fighting each other, however it doesnt help the sport one bit. Also, my main point was that if there were more people in the game that cared about the right fights happening then we wouldnt be stuck with the debacle that is the haye and WK contract negotiation (i am criticising both teams in this before that can of worms is opened).

I agree with you totally about amount of belts in a division and how that has devalued a title, also the inactivity of fighters doesnt help big fights happening too much either. I did say i was maybe being harsh on the current crop as the weak division obviously means weak contenders but i dont think it possible to argue that they have covered themselves in much valour with all the empty promises from haye and the tag team champions of the world you have in the K's.

but maybe im just ranting for a simpler time when boxing was simple and you had one champ, not that much to ask for, surely Smile

by manos de piedra Thu 24 Feb - 13:30

Zeb the owl wrote:
manos de piedra wrote:
Zeb the owl wrote:Doesnt show the current HW champs in the best light, given their monopoly they hold over the titles and the reluctance to make a fight with boxers who will give them a fight, maybe im being a bit harsh as they dont have anyone of the standard of Liston as a major contender but i think negotiations over contracts would be a lot smoother if there were a few more like floyd still in the game.

Patterson was a true great, thanks for the article windy, enjoyed reading that.

Like who?

The current heavyweight champions have been been systematically beating the top contenders in the division for years. The problems lie with the numerous and devalued titles. If their was only one title and one challenger as per Listons day then theres nothing to suggest they would have done anything different.

They would have done something different and i think Union has summed it up with the fact that WK wont fight VK as they are brothers and this monopolises the belts somewhat (therefore like now, a fight that should happen wont). I understand them not fighting each other, however it doesnt help the sport one bit. Also, my main point was that if there were more people in the game that cared about the right fights happening then we wouldnt be stuck with the debacle that is the haye and WK contract negotiation (i am criticising both teams in this before that can of worms is opened).

I agree with you totally about amount of belts in a division and how that has devalued a title, also the inactivity of fighters doesnt help big fights happening too much either. I did say i was maybe being harsh on the current crop as the weak division obviously means weak contenders but i dont think it possible to argue that they have covered themselves in much valour with all the empty promises from haye and the tag team champions of the world you have in the K's.

but maybe im just ranting for a simpler time when boxing was simple and you had one champ, not that much to ask for, surely

It still comes back to the point of multiple titles. If there was only one then only one Klitschko could be champ. Would it be so very different? The brothers still would not fight so there would be no definative answer as to who was better. One would simply hold the belt while the boxing public debated which was better. Its a unique circumstance. Much like when the colour barrier was in existence, we have no real way of knowing who the best heavyweight was. Was Wills better than Dempsey? Would Johnson have reigned as long if he fought the top black fighters? and so forth.

The reason negotiations are so difficult now is due to multiple titles and ppv and tv complications. Patterson fought the top ranked challenger to his title in a less complicated system. If he were around now would it be the same? Would he be willing to give up championship rights, concede purse splits and all the other complications that go on now in order to get these unification fights to happen? Its a completely different environment. Equally, I dont see anything to say WK or VK now would have a problem defending their belt against the top contender back in a one belt, one challenger era based on their history as champions. I dont think its fair to blame to the current heavyweights for the state of boxing now. They didnt bring about the multiple titles and aside from the understandable situation of not fighting each other, they have a history of taking on the biggest challenges the division offers (albeit a weaker one).

by Zeb the owl Thu 24 Feb - 13:52

Fair Point, Manos

As i say, maybe im just hoping for a simpler time, a time when sheffield wednesday was a good foortball team (bout 1905 i think). Smile

Maybe its just my view but i see most modern sportsman in big money environments as pretty similar i.e. money first and sport second. Maybe patterson and some of the past greats would not be as noble in this era and not be remembered so fondly.

Maybe it wouldnt be so different as they still wouldnt fight each other but i think the fact that the contenders would have to fight better fights to get into those positions would lead to more competitive title fights. I just dont like a system where two fighters can set up a contract and essentially mop a title back up should the other fail in the first contest, i just dont see that as fair (could happen if one was champ and one was contender however so a single belt wouldnt solve this i suppose).

But you are right, i was probably off the mark in my original criticism of them. i still think however that they havent been particuarly good for the sport, deserving champions or not.

by manos de piedra Thu 24 Feb - 13:59

Zeb the owl wrote:Fair Point, Manos

As i say, maybe im just hoping for a simpler time, a time when sheffield wednesday was a good foortball team (bout 1905 i think).

Maybe its just my view but i see most modern sportsman in big money environments as pretty similar i.e. money first and sport second. Maybe patterson and some of the past greats would not be as noble in this era and not be remembered so fondly.

Maybe it wouldnt be so different as they still wouldnt fight each other but i think the fact that the contenders would have to fight better fights to get into those positions would lead to more competitive title fights. I just dont like a system where two fighters can set up a contract and essentially mop a title back up should the other fail in the first contest, i just dont see that as fair (could happen if one was champ and one was contender however so a single belt wouldnt solve this i suppose).

But you are right, i was probably off the mark in my original criticism of them. i still think however that they havent been particuarly good for the sport, deserving champions or not.

I kind of agree with you on the point that its easy for them to regain titles. But its also by virute that they have just been head and shoulders above the rest.

Its obvious the pair of them have been far better than anyone since Lewis. If they hadnt been there would the division be in better shape? Im not sure. I think you would have an equally fragmented division of 3/4 guys holding belts and looking to milk them. Essentially what the WBA has been for the last few years except this time it would be all 4 of the organisations. Various promoters like Sauerland, King and Warren would all be nicely placed across different bodies just milking their titles against sub par mandatories. For all their faults, at least the Klitschkos are worthy and deserving champions who have got where they are by beating the rest and consistently taking on the top challenges. I would rather that then 3/4 less worthy guys just defending their titles individually against their sub par mandatories.

by Zeb the owl Thu 24 Feb - 14:22

maybe not better shape no but there is a chance that the interest would be higher if the division was more competitive and this would hopefully lead to a stronger division.

Many would argue that la liga is a stronger league than the premiership, but the premiership is more entertaining as it is more competitive (only slightly more granted).

I dont think that no k's would have been a short term solution but for raising interest in the sport and possibly reviving the division in the long term i think it may have helped. but thats merely speculation on my part, just my view on it.

As already stated, The major problem is the multiple organisations leading a possibility of 4 champs per division. How to fix that though, God only knows.

by John Bloody Wayne Thu 24 Feb - 17:02

Great read, I never realised how important I was to the lad.

by Gentleman01 Thu 24 Feb - 17:25

An excellent read Windy, thanks for sharing.

I always have a hard time placing Patterson. I would, undoubtedly, not consider him to be a top 10, or even a top 15 Heavy. However, I've always felt that, it is in someways unfair, to consider his merits as a fighter based upon his losses and the fact that he often showed himself not to possess the firmest set of whiskers, due to the reality that he was clearly fighting above his weight limit.

Were he to stay at Lightheavy for the majority of his career, i think it entirely possible that he would be spoken of as belonging to the same bracket of LH greats such as Charles, Spinks, Conn, Foster etc.

I have the upmost respect for a boxer who actively pursued fighters who outweighed him by over 20lbs, and who refused to duck the most daunting and ferocious challenger out there, despite the fact that he would likely have been forgiven by the Liston-hating public for doing so.

A true great, both in and out of the ring.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 17:26

John Bloody Wayne wrote:Great read, I never realised how important I was to the lad.

Ha ! You never can tell, eh ?

I reckon Ol' Floyd did The Duke proud, all said and done.

by John Bloody Wayne Thu 24 Feb - 17:34

Absolutely, without the two supposed robberies he only had 6 defeats. One was to the only man to stop Sugar Ray Robinson*, two were to the greatest off all time, two were against a monster he could've ducked forever and the other was avenged twice by KO.

I'd have liked to see him against other big hitters with limited skill like Big Cat Williams to see how he'd cope, but still a great career spent largely out of his depth.

*According to boxrec, most at ringside scored it for Patterson.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 17:36

You're very welcome, Gentleman01, and I'm pleased that you enjoyed it.

I certainly agree that a career spent at lightheavy - or cruiser, for that matter - would have probably seen Floyd enjoy a much higher stock than he does today and, as you point out in your final paragraph, his taking on Liston, whom even D'Amato was trying with all his might to avoid, is worthy of the highest praise.

Jimmy Stuart pointed out the other day that Floyd was an ever present in the top ten at either lightheavy or heavy from 1953 through 1968, and a top five for all but four of those years. Phenomenal achievement, and a testament to his heart and single - minded determination.

Thanks very much for your contribution.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 17:43

John Bloody Wayne wrote:I'd have liked to see him against other big hitters with limited skill like Big Cat Williams to see how he'd cope, but still a great career spent largely out of his depth.

So would I have, John.

The thing that struck me about the second Johansson fight is that everybody was waiting to see what would happen if Ingo landed the right hand again. It took him a couple of rounds, but eventually he did land it, maybe not right on the button, but not so far away. This time, however, Floyd was expecting it, and although the punch clearly stung him, he soaked it up and went straight back at his man. I know he was dropped in the third fight, also, but even so it's an indicator of his determination and single - mindedness that on THIS night, anyway, he wasn't going down.

Courage a - plenty.

by Rowley Thu 24 Feb - 17:43

John Wayne even the Maxim fight must be assessed with the caveat that D'Amato put him into the fight expecting him to lose but felt that as a prospect the experience he would gain was worth the tick in the L column.

One of my favourite stories that, illustrates how much the art of matchmaking has changed in recent years when we rarely see prospects in fights where they are anything less than 70-30 favourites

by John Bloody Wayne Thu 24 Feb - 17:56

Can't have helped his fragile confidence to have Cus expecting a loss. Speaking D'amato, he didn't half get the hard jobs when it came to mind management didn he? First a guy who's favoured result would be a draw in Patterson, then a ticking time bomb in Tyson. I'd want a phsycologist on hand at all times with these guys!

Patterson's hand speed gets pretty underrated sometimes, he's the only guy who can realistically challenge Ali to being the fastest heavy in history.

by Rowley Thu 24 Feb - 17:59

John read an Ali book where he was asked about his opponents, he described Frazier as the toughest, Liston as the most intimidating and Patterson as the most skilled. Given the sheer number and quality of guys Ali faced this is quite a compliment

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 18:01

John Bloody Wayne wrote:Speaking D'amato, he didn't half get the hard jobs when it came to mind management didn he? First a guy who's favoured result would be a draw in Patterson, then a ticking time bomb in Tyson. I'd want a phsycologist on hand at all times with these guys!

You're not wrong, there.

Pity he wasn't around when Ike Ibeabuchi came along. That would have rounded things off nicely.

by Imperial Ghosty Thu 24 Feb - 18:10

What's interesting is the debate over his decision losses, he was by all accounts deemed to have done more than enough to beat Maxim as well

He may have been stopped 5 times but that was twice each by Liston who was a monster and Ali who was a deceptively strong puncher when he chose to be.

by Youarethegreatest Thu 24 Feb - 19:20

HumanWindmill wrote:Dave's article, published yesterday, concerning ' keeping it clean, ' and the nice guys of boxing, prompted me to lift this Associated Press interview with Floyd Patterson from my hard drive and share it with you all. I believe it offers a wonderful insight into Patterson, who had just lost his job due to his exhibiting the symptoms of pugilistica dementia.

Not a single word of this is my work, but rather the entire piece is a straight copy and paste of the original article. It's pretty long, but I'm sure some of you will find it fascinating, just as I did.

Enjoy.

LOSSES STILL HAUNT FORMER CHAMP

(The Associated Press, Sunday, August 2, 1998)

Chin smashed, head spinning, the battered champion slumped against the ropes and gazed into the crowd - directly into the eyes of John Wayne.

Thirty-nine years later, he still cringes at the memory.

"This famous American hero had come to watch me fight, and I was losing the title to another country," Floyd Patterson says. "It was the most embarrassing moment of my life."

KO'd in the third round by Ingemar Johansson of Sweden, Patterson drove home in disgrace. For the next few months he brooded in seclusion, avoiding friends, trainers, even members of his family.

"You have to understand what it is like to be champion of the world and then
not to be champion," he says.

But what hurt most of all was that nagging inner doubt that always seems to strike when he is down, the feeling that somehow -- despite all the titles, the trophies, the money and the glory --the great Floyd Patterson hasn't quite measured up. He felt it as a child when he scratched X's across a photograph of himself, telling his mother, "I don't like that boy." He felt it after he was bludgeoned senseless by Sonny Liston in 126 seconds on Sept. 25, 1962. Patterson slunk out of the stadium in a false beard and mustache.

And he felt it again on April 1, when he was forced to resign as chairman of the New York State Athletic Commission, which regulates boxing in the state. Grilled for hours by lawyers for ultimate fighting - the no-holds-barred sport that is banned in New York -- the ex-champ fumbled miserably. He couldn't remember beating Archie Moore to become the youngest heavyweight champion of the world in 1956. He couldn't remember his aide's name. Patterson protested that he hadn't slept much the night before and that his memory is never good when he is tired.

But the headlines were unforgiving: On The Ropes, Dazed and Confused. Their message was clear. The charismatic "gentleman" of boxing, appointed by Gov. George Pataki in 1995 to put a fresh face on the sport, to rebuild New York as boxing's Mecca, was too punch-drunk to handle the $76,421 job. Patterson refuses to discuss it, but his face crumples when the subject is raised. Friends say what hurts the most is the feeling that he let the governor down.

He hasn't appeared at a fight since.

But he cannot stay away from the sport that made him king, that rescued him from the poorest streets of Brooklyn and offered him the world.

"If it wasn't for boxing," Patterson says, "I would probably be behind bars or dead."

This is his argument to those who say boxing is for brutes and gangsters. This is his argument to those who say the sport should be banned. This is his argument as he gazes around his living room, a virtual shrine to his past, the walls draped with pictures of fighters and presidents and stars. Muhammad Ali, Joe Louis. Joe Frazier. Richard Nixon. Ronald Reagan. Frank Sinatra. John Wayne. Patterson has punched or shaken hands with them all. He has counted many as friends. In pride of place in one corner, a huge photograph of Patterson and John F. Kennedy at the White House in 1962. The president gave the champion his tie-pin and begged him not to fight Liston. Patterson's manager begged him, too. Liston, with his prison record and alleged mob connections, was unfit to be champion, they argued. Besides, they were terrified that the "hulking brute" who outweighed Patterson by at least 25 pounds would kill their noble hero.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," Patterson said. "The title is not worth anything if the best fighters can't have a shot at it. And Liston deserves a shot."

Nine months later, Liston demolished him.

At 63, Patterson lives up to his reputation as a gentleman both in and out of the ring. His polite friendliness and pompadour hairstyle give him a slightly old-fashioned charm. He opens doors for women with a stiff little bow - and says they have no place in the ring. The man who once wondered what he was doing in the Hall of Fame ("Isn't that for guys like Joe Louis?") still seems genuinely touched when asked for an autograph.

In person, Patterson appears smaller than he did in the ring, but he still has those massive forearms and his fighting weight of 185 pounds. He looks fit enough for a title fight.

"When I get up in the morning and I run and I work out in the gym it puts me on a physical high that is so good I don't need any other drug," Patterson says. "This is what boxing did for me, and for hundreds of kids that I've trained. It steered them off alcohol and drugs and put them on a path of physical fitness for the rest of their lives."

The speech is Patterson's mantra: He's been giving it for years. In one afternoon, he repeats it four times. The champion repeats himself a lot these days.

But boxing has given him far more than pride in his body. It made him a rich man. Patterson won $13 million for 20 years of professional fighting that included 64 fights, among them 40 knockout victories. And boxing has given him this comfortable old farmhouse on 17 acres, about 75 miles north of New York City, where he lives with his wife, Janet. The fighter raised his two youngest children here, daughters from his second marriage. It's a beautiful place, wooded and quiet, just outside the town of New Paltz at the base of Mohonk Mountain. Patterson fell in love with the area as a teen-ager when he was dumped into a reform school a few miles away. It was the first time the young truant had seen mountains and woods and deer. It was the first time he didn't steal to eat.

"Until then, I thought everyone lived in rundown concrete buildings in Brooklyn," he says in a soft tenor voice that seems to complement shy eyes. "I promised myself that if I ever had enough money, I would buy a house here." Actually, his first big purse went to buy a house in Mount Vernon, N.Y., for his parents and most of his 10 siblings. He was 21 at the time, a sensitive kid with furious fists, who relied on his manager and mentor, Constantine "Cus" D'Amato, to do most of his talking. It was under D'Amato that Patterson perfected his unorthodox "peekaboo" style, blocking punches by holding both gloves tight to his face, peeping at his opponent, bobbing and weaving all the time.

"Cus did everything to protect the fighter," Patterson says, springing into the peekaboo posture, his huge hands cupped to his face. "In my case, it worked," he adds, grinning. "See, I don't have a flat chin or cauliflower ears like other fighters." Patterson throws combination punches at his imaginary opponent, scampering across his living room floor with some of the speed - if not the stamina - of the old days. Between grunts, he tells the story of -D'Amato's Gramercy Park gym, how he tagged along with his older brothers when he was about 14, how he wanted to cry the first time he was hit, how three years later the crybaby was a champion. Golden Gloves in 1951. Olympic gold in 1952. First professional fight the same year. By the time he reached Chicago Stadium on Nov. 30, 1956, Patterson was unstoppable. He sprang at Archie Moore with a fifth-round left hook and became heavyweight champion of the world. He was 21. Patterson made $114,257 for the fight, more money than he had ever dreamed His first child was born the same day. There were parties and parades and speeches. Congratulations poured in from around the world.

All the new father could think about was how sorry he felt for Moore.

The fighter's killer instinct. The victor's remorse. Patterson's struggle to reconcile the two has led some critics to question if "the gentle gladiator" was too soft for blood sport. Too vulnerable.

"Floyd was probably too kind," says Jimmy Glenn, Patterson's corner man for many years. "He's the kind of guy, you slap him on one cheek, he turns the other."

Glenn tells how Patterson once stooped to pick up an opponent's mouthpiece during a fight. Others recall Patterson easing up on blows if his opponent was hurting, helping Tom McNeeley to his feet in 1961 after knocking him down, backing off Eddie Machen in a 1964 fight, knowing his opponent had suffered a nervous breakdown.

"The problem with my father," says his 29-year-old daughter, Jennifer, "is that other men just never measure up."

Patterson shrugs off compliments, much as he shrugged off the critics all these years, those who wrote that he was just a glorified middleweight, those who said he had a glass chin.

"Floyd Patterson was unique in that he achieved something Mother Nature never intended him to achieve," says boxing historian Hank Kaplan. "He didn't belong fighting those monsters, and he wouldn't have lasted in today's fight. But he had an awful lot of courage and an awful lot of determination."

True, Patterson lacked the dazzle of Ali, the brute force of Liston, the athletic beauty of middleweight Sugar Ray Robinson, his personal favorite. But he had a heart that other boxers admired, a doggedness and intensity that won over the critics.

"They said I was the fighter who got knocked down the most," he says, "but I also got up the most."

Proud as he is of his record, Patterson says he is just as proud of how far he has come outside the ring. Today, the fighter - whose 1962 autobiography is titled "Victory Over Myself" - can laugh about the disguises he once hid in his locker room. Today he is more curious than embarrassed by the emotions he felt winning and losing.

"The only thing I know is that victory means your opponent lost, defeat means you lost," he says. "Either way, someone has got to leave the ring feeling bad. I always thought I would be happy if it could just be a draw."

He smiles a bit sheepishly as he recites this sporting heresy.

"Don't get me wrong," he adds. "I love victory, but I've run into a lot of nice guys in boxing. I just don't want to see anyone get hurt."

The nice guys include Johansson, the Swede who took away Patterson's heavyweight title and, for a year, his pride. Patterson regained the title in 1960, the first heavyweight to do so, after a vengeful bout that left Johansson comatose, his leg quivering. Bending over his opponent, Patterson remembers the terror. He had spent a year as a recluse, hating this man, training to kill him. What if he had succeeded?

Today Patterson and Johansson are friends. They have run marathons together. They visit each other regularly in Sweden and New York. Johansson jokes that Patterson - who once owned a string of Swedish fast-food restaurants that served "Floydburgers" - is more popular in Sweden than he is. He calls Patterson, "a helluva champion, inside the ring and outside."

The nice guys include Ali, the irrepressible showman who launched his poetry career with a rhyme about his boyhood idol:

"A lot of people say that Floyd couldn't fight
"But you should have seen him on that comeback night,
"He cut up his eyes and mussed up his face,
"And that last left hook knocked his head out of place!"

Patterson chuckles when Ali's name is mentioned and, eyes twinkling says, "You mean Cassius Clay?" He has never called Ali by anything but "the name his mother gave him." Ali, in return, insults Patterson by calling him "the rabbit."

Their name-calling has mellowed over the years, since Ali hammered Patterson's left eye shut in Madison Square Garden in 1972 and ended his professional career. Ali, Patterson says, was a brilliant fighter, but he shouldn't have opened himself up to so many blows, should have protected his head more. "Not that he ever opened himself up to me," he quips, referring to his two losses to Ali.

Patterson also lost twice to Liston, who was dethroned by Ali in 1964, one year after Liston wiped the canvas with Patterson. Patterson watched the Ali-Liston fight from a ringside seat. He remembered John Wayne's eyes. After the fight, he made his way to Liston's hotel room and knocked on the door. The loser was alone, his ego more bruised than his body. "Sonny," Patterson told him, "You haven't really lost anything."

The two remained friends until Liston's death four years later, of an apparent heroin overdose.

"The fights you lose," Patterson says, as though he is still consoling Liston or coaching one of his students, "are the ones that teach you the most about yourself."

This is what D'Amato taught him, and what he passed on to his son: that boxing leaves you naked to the world, in all your emotions, your strength and your pain; that the blows outside the ring are the ones that hurt the most, they are the ones that define a true champion.

Beside her husband, Janet puffs on a cigarette and listens intently. Patterson long ago gave up nagging his wife to stop smoking. She long ago gave up trying to protect him from pain. Not that she could do anything once he was in the ring, except throw a party and pray. At other times, though, she's the fighter in the family, fiercely guarding her husband's privacy and good name, screening his calls, prompting him gently when he can't remember dates.

"Floyd is often too hard on himself," she says, "and too soft on everyone else."

It is Janet who proudly tells friends about Patterson's new job, counseling troubled children for the state Office of Children and Family Services. It is she who prods him into talking about his accomplishments on the commission: promoting title fights in Madison Square Garden, pushing for a pension for old boxers, supporting legislation against ultimate fighting. And it is Janet who boasts how her husband is the hero of the local nursing home, where he spends hours every Sunday serving communion.

"The eucharistic minister with the biggest hands," Patterson jokes, holding up the fists that made him.

In a converted chicken coop behind the house he shows what those fists can do. Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat, rat-ta-ta-tat. The small black bag whizzes overhead, the sound as magical as the speed.Patterson loses himself in its rhythm, its familiarity. His gloves become a red blur.

This is where the lawyers should come if they want to grill Floyd Patterson.

The champion doesn't slip up here, he doesn't forget. This musty little gym is where his memories lie. They tumble out of the faded posters on the walls: of the day Ali invaded his training camp, brandishing bunches of carrots and crying "carrots for the rabbit"; of the hundreds of youngsters he trained in this ring; of the day he met the sensitive kid with the furious fists who reminded him of himself.

He walks over to the heavy bag and slams his fists into the layers of duct tape that patch up the dents from the past.

"Sixty percent," Patterson says, rating his form the way he did in the old days: 90 percent when he won against Johannson, zero percent against Liston.

Never 100.

"If you are 100 percent, you have nothing to aim for so you might as well give up."

Patterson pounds the heavy bag one more time. It swings back, low and fast and the boxer embraces it in a bearhug. His smile is one of sheer joy.

The champion may not be 100 percent, but this is as close as it gets.

hello windmill

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 19:45

How are you doing, youarethegreatest ?

Glad you came over.

by Youarethegreatest Thu 24 Feb - 20:33

not bad windy, yourself? I came over a couple of wks back. This is a much better place, the recurring floyd/pac arguments are the only downside - I've promised myself I won't be dragged into them anymore Smile

by John Bloody Wayne Thu 24 Feb - 20:34

De La Hoya was in his prime when Pac beat him

by Hawktimeman Thu 24 Feb - 20:53

Thanks for posting such an insightful article on such a genuinely decent man. Shame other champs were not as humble, sincere and honest.

by **HumanWindmill** Thu 24 Feb - 21:06

Hawktimeman wrote:Thanks for posting such an insightful article on such a genuinely decent man. Shame other champs were not as humble, sincere and honest.

It was a pleasure to share it, Hawktimeman, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.

by **superflyweight** Thu 24 Feb - 21:34

Nice one, Windy. Floyd, whilst not a great heavyweight, is often unfairly maligned and I think it comes down to three points:
1. The manner of his defeats to Liston
2. Ali dubbing him "the Rabbit"
3. His habit of hitting the canvas against heavyweight hitters.

When trying to assess Floyd's actual ability I often try to think of him as a light heavyweight and it's not unrealistic to assume that he could have dominated that division post Charles and Moore and before and even during and after Bob Foster's rise. Floyd might be a lost top 5 light heavyweight.

Ali rated him as the best pure boxer he ever faced and that's a hell of a compliment!

Good to see that most of the old faces have made it over here. I signed up some time ago on the off chance that others would come over. Daytime posting is pretty much out of the question but am going to make more of an effort to get on here at the evenings and the weekends.

by Guest Fri 25 Feb - 0:09

Hi fellows,
joined the rank of the new jobless today.But I'm not down !
Anyway.This interview reminds us of that achievements should always be put into a wider perspective.I love Patterson for his humility!I must've seen this when it came out, same as you Windy,and as discussed recently, that he was determined to fight Sonny is one of the best touchstones for the concept of bravery I've come across.

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