In the winter of 1989, while I was a Pi Lam pledge, I found myself in the common area of our fraternity house with a mix of brothers and pledges. A boxing telecast came on, and as the tale of the tape was broadcast, one of the brothers noticed something. Whitaker was listed at 5'4", 125 pounds. "Russell," the brother (who's name is lost to history) gleefully exclaimed, "What are your measurements?"
"About 5'4", 125," I replied.
About four years later, I joined Whit and a bunch of other guys in a group house in Arlington to watch Whitaker take on Julio Cesar Chavez in a welterweight bout. Pea beat the everlovin' hell out of the legendary Mexican champ, winning 9 of 12 rounds in the eyes of Sports Illustrated's on-site reporter. The judges, possibly influenced by the heavily pro-Chavez crowd in San Antonio, saw it differently, calling it a majority draw (two judges had it a draw, while one called the fight for Whitaker).
The Pea was robbed, y'all, but not me, as I had 'draw' in the pool we put together, so I walked with a bittersweet payday.
Whitaker struggled after his career ended, like many in the fight game. He died at 55, far too young.
I've never been a huge fight fan, but two of the most memorable bouts of my life involved Sweetpea Whitaker. He was unquestionably my favorite fighter ever.
RIP, Norfolk's proud son.
Posts
18 comments:
I was sorry to read of Whitaker’s death. I remember him. Though boxing’s about last on my fighting interest. We’re more than 1/2-way on our “European world adventure” and so happened we were in Geneva the day of the post re: Geneva! Stayed two nights. Beautiful city. Expensive as hell! But truly lovely. And Swiss chocolate is divine!!
That’s supposed to say “sports interest” —I’m very sleepy. Long travel day.
125 pounds. that's got to be easy on the knees . . . even at five foot four.
I met Sweet Pea a couple of times. He was a cool cat. And pound for pound one of the best fighters around.
No one likes Sweetpea? But what about Swee'pea?
we are getting end-of-days type rain right now.
Dave is understating things. I ran 50 yds to my car w/ a feeble umbrella. I may as well have jumped in a waist-high pool.
Makes for fun rush-hour driving.
Luckily my kitchen roof is leaking and none of the roofers I spoke with will come out and fix it.
Spent the weekend in OBX to send off Bruce. 6 dudes waxing drunken hilarity. 100° the whole time. This cottage is many glorious things but it ain’t chilly. Cold front moving in now, thank the lord.
True Fact: roofers used to be casually called roofies until Rohypnol started getting called roofies. No longer.
Good luck finding a willing roofster, Z. Having dependable tradespeople is a challenge. When you find them, pay them in cash so they'll move you to the top of the list when you call again.
Is Bruce leaving OBX? I assumed he was a lifer there.
Anyone else ever notice that Word autocorrects "indemnitor" to "inseminator"?
I got two quotes to fix my roof within about 6.9 hours of each other. One guy wanted to replace my back roof and skylight for $4200. The other offered to shimmy up a ladder and nail down the flashing around the skylight then slather it in tar for $125 right there on the spot. Guess which route I took.
tar slathering!
that's how they remove my back hair.
Just don’t slather my initials.
Wife just walked for her doctorate. Hottest day of the year in Nottingham. The Teej is the proud husband of a kick ass doctor.
and also the sheriff of nottingham. proud of you, teej. prouder of your wife, but still, proud of you.
Big golf clap coming at you from the 904. Quite the accomplishment.
Post a Comment