The 1969 Chronicles: A Sports Writer's Notes  By Stan Isaacs

Chapter 13: The Sweet Science

There is no justification for boxing. It is a cruel, savage sport in which men try to inflict hurt and injury on others. In a perfect world there would be no place for boxing. This isn't a perfect world, however, and there is a fascination about ring spectacles. It is not irrelevant, either, that boxing has always provided a chance for riches and glory for people at the bottom of the economic ladded. The Irish, the Jews, and the Italians preceded the blacks, hispanics and asians in dominating boxing. Some of the best writers outside the sporting precincts — A.J. Liebling, Budd Schulberg, George Bernard Shaw, Jack London, even Ernest Hemingway — were fascinated by boxing. Of all the great sports events, inevitably the most exciting, the most pulsating are big championship bouts, usually among the heavyweights. The only time I have been nervous before a sports event has been in the moments before the opening bell of a heavyweight championship bout.

* * *

Columns:
Now the Olympic King Fights for Real Gold
Fight Night at the Harvard Club
Noise from the Griffiths Is Sweet Song to Emile
The Fascination of a Comer
Dick Tiger Travels from War to War
Our Man is in Left Field: Where else?

Chapters
Home Page
Introduction
1. The Amazing Mets
2. Yankee Fans
3. Music to My Ears
4. Ali & Friends
5. People Are Funny
6. The Poetry Corner
7. The Glorious Knicks
8. Bill Bradley & Others
9. Horsing Around
10. An Angry Mother
11. Political Baseball
12. Fun and Games
13. The Sweet Science
 
  • Now the Olympic King Fights for Real Gold
     
  • Fight Night at the Harvard Club
     
  • Noise from the Griffiths Is Sweet Song to Emile
     
  • The Fascination of a Comer
     
  • Dick Tiger Travels from War to War
     
  • Our Man is in Left Field: Where else?
  • 14. Baseball, Gentlemen
    15. Some Immortals
    16. A Galleria
    17. Ladies First
    18. The Irrepressible Jets
    19. The Sporting Culture

    Email Stan Isaacs
    at sibelch@optonline.net

    Keep punching, son.
    — Emile Griffith's mother