Hands of Stone - Christian Giudice [146]
In contrast, a strangely subdued Duran sat on his stool before the introductions. The Panamanian didn’t stick his fist in Hearns’ face like he had done to DeJesus seconds before their battles, nor did he swagger past, throwing a glare or a punch in the direction of the opposing corner. Instead he sat in his corner with shallow eyes. “I wasn’t with Duran in that fight,” said former manager Luis DeCubas, “but I remember hearing about how he used to go into the shower after workouts and just lay down on the shower floor for hours because he was so weak. When he got into the ring, he was just sitting there.”
Such a small detail might have been missed in an ordinary fighter, but it was easy to look into Duran’s eyes and notice emptiness. Even if Duran wasn’t scared of Hearns, the popular opinion was that he had not prepared sufficiently to be in that ring that evening. “There were only a few fighters in the history of boxing who could not be intimidated at all. And Duran was one of them,” said Jose Torres. “If it’s true that he didn’t train properly at times, then of course he hurt himself. He was such a mental fighter that he had to be aware if he was in condition or not. Even if you are not in condition but you are aware that you didn’t train properly, it affects you. If he didn’t train, then he knew he didn’t train and that’s the thing about smart fighters. They use their heads for everything, even unconsciously.”
Under a darkening night sky in the temporary outdoor arena, Duran tentatively circled to his left, seeking an opening. To land a shot, he had first to reach Hearns, but the American’s jaw looked like he’d need a ladder to hit it. A jab bounced harmlessly off Hearns’s washboard stomach. The Hit Man looked supremely confident, flicking out his left to set up the missile in his right glove. Duran appeared concerned about getting hit. Pushed against the ropes with a strong right hand, he flailed back.
In the middle of a combination that sent him falling through the ropes, it appeared that Duran was bravely calling for more punishment. A clipping Hearns uppercut opened a cut over his left eye. It was the least of his concerns. There was confusion, which brought a temporary halt to the action, and Duran put his hands up matador style and turned his head as if to ask Padilla for an explanation. A split second later, another uppercut sent him reeling around the ring. “Hearns moved in, purposeful and unhurried, feinted with a left jab to the body and quick as a flash brought over a right to the chin that put Duran down heavily,” reported Boxing News. “Duran propped himself up on his left elbow, got to his knees and made it to his feet at the count of five. But he looked unsteady.” Despite this, he waved Hearns in with his glove, ready to take what was coming, in desperate trouble but the King of Macho once more.
Hearns blitzed him against the ropes with both hands, then dropped him again with a short left hook with a few seconds left in the round. Padilla gave him a standing eight-count and Duran, visibly shaken, headed toward the wrong corner between rounds, something he often did. As if chasing a drunken buddy walking into traffic, Plomo sprinted over to redirect him, a dripping sponge in his hand ready to rinse Duran’s blood-smeared face.
At the start of the second Duran appeared to have recovered and the two fighters touched gloves respectfully before resuming. Hearns, sharp and focused, quickly exerted pressure. Duran did land some punches, but not hard enough to even dent the Detroit slugger. Hearns ripped away,