Hands of Stone - Christian Giudice [102]
Many figured the cornermen on each side would play a significant role in the outcome. Here was a trio of trainers who had reached the pinnacle of their profession. Because of his long association with Ali, Dundee was the best-known cornerman in boxing. Steeped in craftiness and a fine spotter of talent, Dundee could have been born next to a turnbuckle. In his most glorious moments, he persuaded a near-blinded Ali, then Cassius Clay, to keep fighting against Sonny Liston, and had “discovered” – some say exacerbated – a tear in his fighter’s glove that gave Ali precious moments to recover after being knocked down by Henry Cooper. In a fight with Marcos Geraldo, Leonard was hit so hard – either by a headbutt or punch – that he claimed to have seen three Geraldos. “Hit the one in the middle,” quipped Dundee. Leonard did, and won. “That fight showed me how strong Ray really was,” said Dundee. “Ray knocked out a middleweight in that fight.”
Dundee knew how to dissect a fighter. Having worked commentary for several of Duran’s fights, he knew the Panamanian’s strengths and weaknesses. Looking back years later, he confirmed he would have loved to have worked Duran’s corner. “Roberto had so much ammunition,” he said. “I respected the hell out of him. The guy was a complete fighter.” Yet he questioned Duran’s power at this level, remarking that Leonard, “my guy,” was the real puncher in this fight.
While Eleta stressed Brown’s value as a babysitter and watchdog in the camp, he realized early on that Duran needed that extra motivation that Plomo, a close friend, couldn’t provide. “Arcel was like, how do you say it in English, cabana boy,” said Duran. “He used to come a couple days before a fight. Plomo and Brown were always with me.”
Plomo reiterated: “I was with Duran from the very beginning. Arcel would just show up weeks before the fight.”
Still, as many in Duran’s camp would attest, it wasn’t always easy motivating Duran. Against Leonard, he motivated himself.
“Gloves, gloves, gloves. You just get bored. Imagine going a month without a rest. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday – damn, you don’t have the desire to throw punches anymore. They never give me a day off. I’m taking everything with calmness – at my pace. Everything is being saved for the day of the fight. If I do things with ferociousness now, I won’t have any sparring partners,” Duran told Sports Illustrated.
“What then? I do what my trainers tell me, but I also put in something of my own. Understand? Sometimes the body wants to work and sometimes it doesn’t. I have not yet started to throw hard. I should be in much better condition the day of the fight – not now. On June 20th, I should be double what I am now – double.”
Despite weight fluctuation and occasionally lax training habits, Duran wasn’t delusional. Against Zeferino Gonzalez he admitted to looking terrible, and reportedly he left the ring telling Leonard that next time he would see a different fighter. “I would stop partying and only train for two or three weeks before a fight,” said Duran. Leonard, in contrast, found solace amid the punchbags. “I just loved the conditioning, just one of the guys that loved to be in the gym.”
In Palmer Park in spring 1980, Leonard began training at a hotel exhibition hall and stayed at the Sheraton Lanham near his home. While some boxers liked to set themselves away from family, Leonard trained near his loved ones. He sparred with then middleweight contender and brother Roger as well as cousin Odell. The daily training sessions began with five miles around the track every morning. “I’d lose them every time when we got to the hills,” boasted Sugar. To work on his balance, he took dance lessons with Juanita. Spectators paid $1 to watch him train, while sparring partners were paid $150 for daily beatings. By the time Leonard broke camp on June 6, 1980, he had