Kramer’s reemergence has me remembering a time when I followed football and read about it avidly.
In death, he possesses a singular capacity to stimulate writers’ tough-guy fantasies and fondness for conspiracy theories.
In a legendary episode, they fought over an unimaginable distance—75 rounds, for two hours and 16 minutes, in 100-degree heat—before the issue was resolved.
When you read the history of the heavyweights, you’re reading a story that can be separated into BL and AL periods—Before Louis and After Louis.
The temperature was about 105 degrees on that day in 1915 when Jack Johnson fought Jess Willard—unless it was closer to 70.
Like a protagonist in a Bob Dylan song, Jack Johnson was a trickster genius, never an easy man to characterize.
His 1988 battle with Tony Tubbs in Tokyo would be the last time that the world saw Tyson so serene, or at least stable. Storms were breaking around him.
The Dempsey bibliography mirrors the man's own itinerant ways, in his early life—it's scattered, as he was, to the four winds.
The first black man to win the heavyweight title, Johnson was breaking a color line first drawn by John L. Sullivan.
In honor of Veterans Day, some thoughts on the heavyweight champions and military service
The Boxing Kings is my attempt to encapsulate a long-running interest in the heavyweight champions into one narrative that includes them all.
Had Sullivan and Corbett lived to see their lives portrayed on film, it would no doubt have been another source of discord that here, too, Corbett had the upper hand.
In the end, how you react to Cinderella Man probably tracks how you feel about traditionally minded movies—and perhaps traditional values, to boot.
Part of the intrigue for the reader is trying to parse when he is in earnest, when he is knowingly deceiving us, and when he is perhaps deceiving himself.
Louis had a wry sense of humor and a gift for getting to the nub of a matter without the language clutter that often afflicts better-educated speakers