Hit Man - Brian Hughes [100]
In February 2009, veteran trainer Walter Smith died at the age of ninety-four. The quiet, dependable stalwart had been as much a part of the Kronk as anyone. “Walt made you want to train hard,’’ Hearns recalled at the funeral. “He’d come by the house for roadwork early in the morning. He’d blow his car horn once and if you didn’t respond he’d come up and knock on the door. If you wanted to sleep in, you couldn’t. Walt was always there.’’ Just a couple of weeks later, Mickey Goodwin, one of the original Kronk stars, was found dead at his home at the age of fifty-one. It seemed he had suffered a stroke and fallen down stairs. Mickey got up, but later died from his injuries. It seemed an era was drawing to a close.
Enduring, through it all, were Hearns and Steward. Still a team, still a class act. Retirement is not a concept Hearns recognises. Always a doer, rather than a talker, he keeps active, not least with the career of his son Ronald, a 6ft 3in light-middleweight who, at the time of writing, had a 22-1 record, with seventeen inside-the-distance wins. And when he makes his numerous public appearances, it is clear that he is still not far off fighting weight, and could still fight a round or two if needed. The gleam is still in the Hit Man’s eye.
Thomas Hearns was unquestionably one of the best pound-for-pound fighters of the modern era. As one of the Five Kings during an era of unprecedented talent in the welterweight and middleweight divisions – the others being Benitez, Duran, Hagler and Leonard – he featured in some of the most skilful, exciting contests of the past fifty years. For sheer drama, his primeval clash with Hagler may never be bettered. Perhaps, like many boxers, he fought on too long and in the end took too many punches, but he did what he wanted, and his legacy is secure. And for all the indelible images he has left behind, many will remember best the beanpole bomber who came out of the meanest streets of the meanest city in America and turned the boxing world on its head. As no less an authority than the late, great Joe Louis said, “I’ve never seen a welterweight punch like Hearns. Nobody, not even heavyweights, hit that fast or that hard.”
20 THE LEGACY
IN ORDER TO place Thomas Hearns’s career within its proper perspective, a number of seasoned boxing observers were asked to reflect upon the fighting life of the Detroit champion. Lindy Lindell, the veteran Detroit journalist, was there at the beginning of his career and followed his progress throughout:
Thomas Hearns was a great fighter. The word “great” is all too-often used by sports journalists and commentators who, understandably, get caught up in sensational moments; one has to refrain from using the term, to quote William Wordsworth, when recording “emotion recollected in tranquillity.”
What are the standards for greatness? My answer: to perform at an optimal level while at one’s peak. Number of wins and knockouts count for little. Championships count for little more. Hearns has won more world championships than any other man, a fact that is almost meaningless in modern-day boxing now that more than 100 world championships are available, whereas only eight classifications and champions existed until the 1960s. Henry Armstrong’s accomplishment of being the featherweight, lightweight and welterweight champion at the same time is a greater accomplishment in my estimation than Hearns winning multiple belts.
Hearns has put great stock in the amount of world championship belts he has won. He won a version of the cruiserweight belt