Hands of Stone - Christian Giudice [162]
Evading capture in the initial hours of the invasion, Noriega hid out and eventually sought sanctuary in the Vatican embassy. He spent Christmas and New Year’s there, surrounded by U.S. troops who baited him by blasting out rock music like “I Fought The Law” and “Working On A Chain Gang.” (Despite the attention on Noriega, it was still Duran’s country: the boxer was mobbed when he walked into a Holiday Inn across the street from the embassy to speak with reporters one day in late December.) After nineteen days, the Papal Nuncio convinced him that enough was enough and he marched out to his captors in military uniform, a bible in his hand. Endara was installed as the new president.
The incarcerated Eleta, meanwhile, had befriended his fellow inmates and become a sort of cult hero in the slammer. Despite being a millionaire, Eleta was no snob. His ability to mix with anyone served him well in prison, where for the first time in his life he was stripped of his status. “We would play cards all the time. The people inside the prison loved me,” said Eleta. “When I left the jail in Macon, the guards even gave me a watch as a present.”
“Noriega was a criminal and a sonofabitch, he ran like a rat,” added Eleta years after the event. “When they came after him, he didn’t defend himself. But I knew that if I ever got back there I would take care of him. I saw a killer in Noriega but I was not afraid of anything.” By then he could afford to talk tough. Noriega would be tried and sentenced to forty years (later reduced to thirty) in jail for drug trafficking and racketeering. Carlos Eleta was freed on $8 million bail. After the U.S. invasion of Panama, all charges against him were dropped.
FIFTEEN MONTHS after Leonard, Duran returned to the ring against “Irish” Pat Lawlor on 18 March 1991, at the Mirage in Las Vegas. Lawlor had only fourteen wins and one loss in his brief career, but after five rounds was ahead on points. Duran had hurt his shoulder during training, and after getting hit in the bicep in the sixth the pain returned. Referee Carlos Padilla took the injured veteran over to ringside doctor Flip Homansky and the fight was called off in Lawlor’s favour at 1:50 of the round. A second no más, some called it. “I’m going to ask Don King for a rematch,” said a weary Duran. “This was practice.”
He next hit the ring in October 1992, at the age of forty-one, to score a wide ten-round decision over American Tony Biglen. Duran, now trained by the Martinez brothers, Hector and Freddie, actually looked in shape and had Biglen down in the first and fourth rounds but couldn’t finish him off. Duran was by now a master at playing to the gallery. In the fourth, as Biglen’s father screamed instructions to his son, Duran moved Biglen into his own corner, stuck his head through the ropes and shook his head “no” at Biglen’s father.
He closed out 1992 with a string of wins against second-rate opponents. He fought three times at Casino Magic in Bay, Mississippi. Small casino towns had now become his home, out-of-the-way gyms his temporary havens. People wondered why the man was still fighting, but for Duran boxing was his way to keep afloat financially and mentally. In December 1993, Duran went into his hundredth bout, against an opponent half his age. “Not many make it to one hundred fights,” he said. “I want to be known as the greatest fighter of all time. I’ve been rated number two behind Sugar Ray Robinson. I think I deserve to be number one.”
Originally the bout was set for early November and coincided with the Day of the Dead, a tradition common throughout Central America and developed from a mixture of local religious practices and Christianity. Families congregate in cemeteries and around altars in the home, accompanied by music and song. Those who gather in cemeteries