(*First published in 1956 by The Viking Press from collected The New Yorker writings. I am reading from a 2004 edition by North Point Press. SPOILERS AHEAD?)
This post will cover the first-half of the Other Fronts section of this collection. The next installment (pt 6) when published here will consist, you guessed it, of the second half.
THE BOY FROM SOUTH MAIN STREET
This one reminds a reader that these essays were originally housed in the pages of the New Yorker. Providence's Young Montreal's inability to have garnered a belt is held up by Liebling as ludicrous as "Gustave Flaubert's failure to receive an invitation from the Acadamie Francaise." Oh. This is a rather dry entry, all told, due partly to that recurring aesthetic. However, there are parts that read much like lesser-known stanzas from Tom Waits' Frank's Wild Years**. Say, when the lowdown is given on the whereabouts of retired fighters, some union men, some dead.
"It is the style of fools and perfectionists." That could be this entry writing at itself, or at least parts thereof. Although it's really about George Araujo, the lightweight pug responsible for Liebling sprouting a tale from the different terroir of New England. Sometimes it feels off when L describes the physical traits of fighters, in that there's a lacking bit of humanity. Still, he does excel yet again at writing about the fight itself. This one pits Araujo against Jimmy Carter (not that one) and we are back in more familiar confines for the fisticuffs, MSG. The result? " I don't know what kind of journey home the fellows from Providence had, but I imagine it was quiet." "**Frank drove a little sedan they were so happy."
NINO AND A NANIMAL
"Managers, like book publishers, make most of the money, but trainers, like editors, participate more directly in the artists' labors." That's nice. I like that a lot. And so we meet Whitey Bimstein and Freddie Brown, a pair of prizefighter editors. Also, Tommy Jackson, a heavyweight who seems to make Mike Tyson appear stable, and Floyd Mayweather a deep thinker. Or, as Bimstein would purportedly put it, he's "A nanimal." First, though, we get some color by way of a story about a fighter allergic to blood.
Anyway, Jackson struggles, and only once could those struggles be blamed on too much Coca-Cola being drunk prior to a bout. Jackson also says he's ticklish and it's all fairly cringe-inducing. There is some comfort in knowing that he can both read and write--although he's not good at it. It all feels somehow predatory. Then it's fight night vs. Nino Valdes. It doesn't end well, but it does end oddly and aptly-so. I'm not sure if his moniker is mentioned by Liebling, but in my own research, 'Hurricane' fits well.
It's a sad story related quite well and plainly. Hurricane finished his career with a record of 34-9-1, 16KO. He died at the age of 50 after being hit by a car. Ending on a high note here (for Jackson) he twice beat Ezzard Charles.
SOIREE INTIME
A quite quiet entry. The mood matches the content nicely, as Liebling attends a fight-card one day after Ezzard Charles and Rocky Marcano took center stage, i954, summer. Thanks to the Gillette Razor Blade Co.'s (not a sponsor) sponsorship of the evening, the gate (attendance) isn't any real concern and the whole Garden is seemingly akin to a white table restaurant in a library. Also, it's empty. The people are so nice! An interesting social experiment.
The fights, no offense to their combatants, don't count here for much more than the gate did there. It's all about atmosphere and characters interacting therein them confines. "Seeyit?" That's about it. A nicely written subtle tale that reads quickly but remains delivered calmly. Maybe TV ain't all that bad, as Liebling is down for a rerun in the end.
THE NEUTRAL CORNER ART GROUP
Here again, we trip the light Egan (to brutalize Milton) and equate pugilistic watering-holes through time from he to Liebling. Namely and respectively, Castle Tavern and The Neutral Corner. We check back in on Bimstein and get a bit of Charlie Goldman (Marciano's trainer) with his thoughts on dames and the inherent distraction they bring to promising pugilists. He wishes aloud that he'd gotten Rocky much younger, "He would have learned to do things right without thinking."
A lot of this reads like Cheers or maybe Barfly but with more flattened noses and thickened ears. Lots of names are checked and some up-and-comer bouts and club fights are attended and related. This entry does two new things: gets a good tick bogged down and reads more stream-of-consciousness in style. It ambles along neither limping nor gliding and then it ends the next morning. A sort of 'bottle episode' which is well at home in a pair of pubs.
DEBUT OF A SEASONED ARTIST
We somewhat surprisingly begin with a brief mention of Mr. Jackson and then we get a person mentioned some time back--Archie Moore--in his long-awaited Madison Square Garden debut. By then, 'an aging academician--thirty-seven.' The antithesis of Hurricane. Moore's opponent for this affair was one Harold Johnson, someone's no. 2 rated light-heavyweight. Before that though, Leibling secures a visit to Moore's Jersey training camp. He meets Moore's manager, Charlie Johnson in the city and they carpool to the Garden State with a pair of pugs in the backseat.
The conversation is nil on account of Johnston who takes a bit to cue Liebling in that he is, in fact, deaf in his right ear. "I'll put up the window on my left, and you can bounce your voice off it." I really do appreciate these little nothings which build together somethings of nuance and mood that L excels at erecting. We soon get a look at camp life and a ringside seat to a sparring session involving one of the backseat duo. Moore is described with a different more reverent voice than many others. Here (1954) he is 'The Old Mongoose,' nee sans 'Old.'
& then we are off to the fights. Harold Johnson reminds Leibling of Walcott and Archie Moore reminds him of a not-so-intimidating and may be less than still fight-ready fellow once he is uncloaked in the ring. We then more fully see L's reason for admiration--Moore's intellect. He berates the mores of the masses and their 'anti-intellectual attitude.' They cheer for Johnson. They wanted to see Moore KO'd, according to Leibling's scanning. Our scribe here flexes his own academic druthers in support of Moore, by sitting in the press box and studiously scoring the fight.
So then it was Moore calculatingly-so to the body. But then it was suddenly Moore getting knocked down late (10th) And Ruby Goldstein not being used to the still new regulations regarding count and standing eight. The bell rung while at five of eight. Even prior to that, Liebling was not certain how the scores were racking up as compared to his own sight of Moore being ahead. However, it would not get to the score-cards, for Johnson became a punching bag for Moore and the fight was stopped after a somewhat tentative standing eight (14th).
"I suspected that Moore was not satisfied with the way he had handled Johnson the first four times they boxed--an aggregate of forty rounds." Johnson had one win out of the five, that coming in 1949 via unanimous decision. Succinctly, and back to the text at hand, this essay has a bit of everything of which to showcase Liebling's vaulted skillset.
Previously: Book Review: The Sweet Science by AJ Liebling | Part 4 (The Big Fellows Again)
Next: Book Review: The Sweet Science by AJ Liebling | Part 6 (Other Fronts, pt. 2)
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