Hit Man - Brian Hughes [43]
Afterwards, Hearns sat in his dressing-room, wearing a crisp white tracksuit and a sailor’s cap, and casted an uncritical eye over his own performance. He had wanted the fight to go a few rounds so the fans and critics could witness his range of skills and punching power. He expressed satisfaction at his patience in getting McCracken into a position where he could unload his big punches, although he was concerned that his hands had started to hurt after he had his opponent down twice in the second round. “My hands were starting to become very painful and there comes a time when you have to tell yourself ‘forget it,’ some guys just don’t go down,” he said. He reminded reporters that McCracken had only once before been on the canvas as a pro.
Again at ringside, microphone in his hand, was Sugar Ray Leonard, working as an analyst for CBS. He confessed that he had been mightily impressed by the calculating manner in which Hearns had gone about his business. He refused to take the bait from his hosts and make jokes about Hearns, as he had so frequently done since their celebrated showdown. Instead, he showed Hearns the respect he felt was merited, saying, “He is a legitimate middleweight now. No question about it.”
Leonard would officially retire from boxing that November, ruling out the bout that Hearns most wanted. Instead his next title challenge would come against another of the sport’s great stars, an equally brilliant talent who, like the Hit Man, was trying to rebuild his reputation after defeat to Leonard.
9 THE BOY WONDER
SIGNING THOMAS HEARNS to fight Wilfred Benitez was the easy part. Finding a promoter was more difficult. The arrest of Harold Smith had taken out one reckless spender, and a worldwide economic recession meant everyone was tightening their belts. Emanuel Steward tried various promotional organisations, to no avail. Hearns and Benitez were even required to participate in a bizarre promotional tour on which they couldn’t confirm where the fight would be held. This was a soul-sapping chore for all concerned. Steward reflected, “It’s strange but nobody is really pushing the question, ‘Does anyone care about this fight?’” Steward ruminated that this signalled an end to the big money fights in boxing and that Hearns’s match with Leonard represented a zenith for the sport.
Eventually Don King stepped in with a $6 million package, and advanced the two fighters nearly $1 million each. He prided himself on being an international boxing promoter and embraced the only option which appeared to be open to them, which was to stage the fight in Caracas, Venezuela, as most of the major boxing venues in North America had been approached but politely declined the offer, citing lack of money as the main reason. The driving force behind the Caracas deal was Graphite Cedeno, a local tycoon, who vowed to put up $1 million to stage the contest and also provided fifty round-trip tickets for each party. King was eager to clinch the deal and shamelessly invoked a bogus racial solidarity between promoter and boxer, as he so often had in the past. “I assured Steward they would get a fair shake in Caracas. After all, I’m black and Tommy Hearns is black, and I wouldn’t let anything happen to him,” he said. “They have no reason not to fight there. They already know that Hearns is the most popular fighter in the world with South Americans.”
In truth, Emanuel Steward had few reasons not to accept it. The real stumbling block was Hearns, who was reluctant to fight outside the United States. Steward argued that while they could call off the fight, it would seriously damage his credibility, given the similar farrago with middleweight champion Marvin Hagler just a few months earlier. “I can’t say Caracas is out but it’s not in yet, either,” he told the press. Steward tried to get Hearns to see the bigger picture, that economic woes were likely to reduce his earning options in America.
This final point was captured by Detroit sportswriter, George Puscas, who wrote a Don King-influenced