Sorcery at Caesars: Sugar Ray's Marvelous Fight

by Steve Marantz

  One day they found themselves in Leonard's old gym in Palmer Park, Md., filming a TV spot for the Internal Revenue Service. Arum's publicist, Irving Rudd, conceived of the spot, wherein both fighters said they filed their tax returns early because they would be busy on filing day - April 15. The ad reached a universal audience and helped ratchet up sales.

  The fight had no clear favorite, and bets poured in equally on both. What ultimately sold it was the anticipation of a nasty rumble between two fighters with axes to grind. Both had been teased and used by Leonard, had toiled in his shadow, and felt unappreciated. Now it was time to stake out their legacies. Hagler and Hearns were ready to make a dramatic and violent statement.

  Chapter 11

  1985: A Black Christ

  The stark final image was that of Hearns, "now helpless, semiconscious, looking very like a black Christ taken from the cross," in the arms of a solemn aide.

  The scene was "powerful, haunting, unsettling...cruelly beautiful," wrote essayist and novelist Joyce Carol Oates.

  Hagler and Hearns fought as if possessed in the parking lot behind Caesars. Hagler's pent-up bitterness found release in a violent attack, even as each crack of Hearns' gloves reinforced a lifetime of slights. In the end, Hearns was martyred to absolve Hagler of victimization.

  The 1st round is legendary, among the most vicious and splendid ever fought on the Big Fight stage. Action accelerated so recklessly that spectators were left breathless. Punches windmilled into a blur, though the actual count was 82 punches for Hagler and 83 for Hearns, about three times that of a typical round. Hagler did not throw a single jab. During one of the toe-to-toe exchanges a cut was opened on Hagler's forehead above his right eye and blood began to flow. And in the final minute Hearns' right hand cracked against Hagler's skull and fractured. Indeed, Hagler seemed intent on proving the adage that a good chin will beat a good punch. Two judges scored the round for Hagler, one for Hearns.

  The pace in the second was only slightly less furious, though Hearns now was limited with his right hand. Hagler maintained his attack, confused Hearns while switching between southpaw and orthodox stances, and gradually asserted control. By the third minute Hearns was off balance and his legs were shaky.

  Early in the 3rd round Hagler appeared on the verge of closing out Hearns when, suddenly, the bout was almost snatched from him. His cut re-opened and a torrent of blood ran over his nose. Referee Richard Steele halted the action and escorted Hagler to his corner. Hagler felt a conspiracy coming on, another plot to hold him down. "I will not let you stop this fight," he told Steele. He later admitted to thinking, "Why were they doing this to me?"

  The ringside physician examined the cut and deemed Hagler able to continue. Steele asked him if he was able to see. "I'm not missing him, am I?" Hagler snapped. Steele had to agree.

  When the fight resumed Hagler attacked quickly to end it. He bounced three long rights off Hearns' head, the last one twisting him downward, as one writer put it, "like a beach umbrella caught in the wind." Hearns struggled to his feet but Steele wrapped him up and stopped the bout. A moment later Hearns sagged into the arms of an aide with whom he was joined in the photograph that stole the breath of Oates and the public.

  Mobbed in the ring, Hagler was handed his 3-year-old daughter, Charelle, by Bertha. "Hi baby," he said. The toddler looked at his cut forehead and said, "Boo boo."

  HBO's Larry Merchant crowded Hagler with a microphone and quickly found out what was on Hagler's mind. "I told you a long time ago I was a great fighter, and you said 'you still have to prove yourself,'" Hagler said. "Well, did I do that tonight?" Minutes later Hagler appeared before the assembled media and said, "Maybe now I'll get some commercials."

  Meanwhile, Leonard, part of the HBO crew, had picked up another tic in Hagler's style. "I think I can beat him," he told Dunlap.

  Later, in a dressing room, as Hagler slipped into the coat of an expensive suit, he was congratulated by Duane Ford, the chairman of the Nevada Athletic Commission.

  "Marvin, you look like a million bucks," Ford said.

  Hagler tightened his tie and appraised himself in a mirror.

  "Make that six million, Mr. Ford."

  In actuality, Hagler's purse reached $8 million. Brockton honored him again outside of City Hall though now his profile was national. He appeared on Johnny Carson's "Tonight" Show and "Saturday Night Live," made TV commercials for a deodorant and a pizza chain, and, with his wife and family, visited President Reagan at the White House.

  But the most relevant moment occurred just five days later, when HBO shot a post-fight show, with Leonard and Tompkins as hosts. Leonard and Tompkins were in a New York studio, and Hearns, his right hand in a cast, was in a Detroit studio. Hagler was supposed to be in a Boston studio, but he was late. The bright lights and cameras were on, though shooting had not begun. Leonard and Hearns could see one another on monitors, and for an hour they chatted. Finally, Hagler, his forehead bandaged, arrived and joined the other two on camera.

  "Hey, Marvin," Leonard said. "You want to buy a Ferrari?"

  "What color is it?"

  "Red."

  "I'll tell you, Ray," Hagler said. "They stop a lot of red cars up here in Massachusetts."

  At this, Hearns chuckled.

  "Hey, Ray, your Ferrari there must really be a lemon," he said. "You been trying to sell it for an hour."

  Hearns' message to Hagler was clear. Don't buy a used car from Sugar Ray Leonard.

  1985: Nose to Nose

  Now at the pinnacle, Hagler succumbed to temptation, as Leonard had. He drifted away from Bertha and their children, took an apartment in Boston, cavorted with women and allegedly found cocaine.

  Most of what is known about Hagler's cocaine use was alleged and reported by John Dennis, a Boston TV and radio personality. Dennis did not report on Hagler's cocaine dissipation until 1987, after he fought Leonard, though he claims he was aware of it by the latter part of 1985. Hagler denied that he used cocaine but chose not to press a legal challenge to Dennis' 1987 report.

  "My understanding from the Petronellis was that Marvin began to use cocaine extensively after the Hearns fight," said Dennis, then the sports anchor for Channel 7 in Boston. (In public comments and to this author, Pat Petronelli denied that he provided information to Dennis, and denied that Hagler used cocaine.)

  Independent of the Petronellis, a Brockton cop and a bartender at Logan Airport tipped Dennis to Hagler's cocaine use.

  "The cop said 'tell your boxing buddy to send a stooge to the crack house. How smart is it to drive a Caddy with MMH license plates to the house of a known drug dealer, park in front, and come out five minutes later? Tell him to smarten the fuck up,'" recalled Dennis.

  "The bartender said he couldn't count the number of times he saw Marvin chasing his nose all over town - night after night."

  Photographer Angie Carlino, who had accompanied Hagler on his cross-country vacation in 1983, dated Hagler's cocaine use to this period. Hagler had distanced himself because Carlino did not use cocaine and had stopped drinking.

  "The DEA had tapes of him coming out of crack joints," Carlino recalled. "They would pull him out of his car. Bertha would come get him."

  Betty Whitney, Pat Petronelli's wife-to-be, said she had no first-hand knowledge of Hagler using cocaine.

  "But it's hard to imagine that stuff wasn't pushed on him by the celebrities he was around," Whitney said.

  Hagler was supposed to fight a little-known and undefeated Ugandan, John "The Beast" Mugabi, in November, but he had lost focus and drive. In late October he claimed a sore back and asked that the bout be postponed. Arum complained that a sore back wasn't reason enough, at which point Hagler claimed a broken nose. The bout was rescheduled for March.

  The drumbeat of cocaine-related scandal grew louder. The Pittsburgh cocaine trial, in September 1985, implicated 19 major league players, including two former MVPs, Keith Hernandez and Dave Parker, who testified as government witnesses. Hernan
dez, in his testimony, called cocaine "the demon in me" and "the devil on this earth." Parker testified that his primary supplier had had access to the Pittsburgh Pirates clubhouse. None of the players were defendants, but their testimony helped convict Philadelphia caterer-cum-dealer Curtis Strong, who was sentenced to 12 years.

  Chuck Wepner, a Bayonne, N.J., liquor salesman, was arrested in November and charged with being a "mid-level" cocaine dealer. Wepner, known as the "Bayonne Bleeder," had knocked down Ali before being stopped in the 15th round of their 1975 title fight, and had been Sylvestor Stallone's model for the film character, "Rocky." The same month Kansas City Chiefs defensive end Mike Bell and twin brother Mark, a former NFL player, were arrested in Wichita and charged with distribution of cocaine.

  In December 1985 news reports indicated that five of the St. Louis Cardinals (NFL) had used cocaine during the last two seasons. In New Orleans, local gambler Gary Kranz was sentenced for his role in a point-shaving scandal involving the Tulane University basketball team. Kranz had obtained cocaine for several players as part of his scheme.

  After a team Christmas party New Jersey Nets guard Micheal Ray Richardson, also known as "Sugar Ray," dropped out of sight for two days before turning himself in to NBA drug counselors for cocaine rehab - his third.

  Leonard began to run and work out after Hagler-Hearns, much as he had after Hagler-Duran. Even on the road, he ran and found a gym to hit the bags and jump rope.

  Yet, his cocaine habit continued as before. Those close to Leonard suspected something amiss. Trainer noticed that Leonard's visits to his Silver Springs law office were less frequent. Cicero and Getha wondered if an imposter had inhabited their son's body. Leonard's brother, Roger, knew what was wrong. Roger had been drug dependent in the early 1980s and rehabilitated at a Veterans Administration hospital in Washington. Roger joined Juanita's campaign to persuade Leonard to stop.

  Late in 1985 Leonard "disappeared" for two or three days with Richard Pryor. The incident alarmed his associates, particularly James Anderson, who understood the depth of Pryor's self-destructiveness. After the Pryor incident Anderson accompanied Leonard to Miami, where they were guests on a yacht. Leonard indulged in yet another round of excess. This time Anderson confronted him.

  "I said, very simply, you know, you can do this," Anderson recalled. "It doesn't really affect you but what are people going to say to your children when they go to school. Your father was this great athlete, now he's a drug addict. What about your children? What about Little Ray and Jarrel, what about them?"

  Leonard had used cocaine for three years, roughly the time it takes to become addicted to its powdered form. He could not have failed to notice the carnage cocaine had wrought upon the athletic landscape and in general.

  One morning he awoke, hung over, and stumbled into the bathroom. In the mirror Leonard saw his once-handsome face bloated. As he stared he experienced his Dorian Gray moment, youth overtaken, as Oscar Wilde wrote, "by a withered, wrinkled and loathsome visage." Self-denial no longer was possible.

  "My eyes were bloodshot, my skin was breaking out," Leonard recalled. "I said 'enough.' I started crying actually, and that's when I decided to come back and fight Hagler."

  Leonard declined to seek professional help - he wanted no part of a conventional 12-step recovery program such as that in which Roger had rehabilitated. He had in mind something else - a rehabilitation that involved boxing. His 12 steps would be three minutes each.

  Chapter 12

  1986: Dinner at Jameson's

  "Jameson's," a sleek new steak and chops restaurant in Bethesda, Md., opened to fanfare in mid-January 1986. On hand was its part owner, Sugar Ray Leonard, and his guest, the middleweight champion, Marvelous Marvin Hagler. Both the ex-fighter and the fighter circulated among the crowd of friends, family, and business and media VIPs. Hagler's presence, which lent buzz to the launch, was a coup for Leonard.

  Leonard had invited Hagler, and somewhat as a surprise, he had accepted. While Hagler attended as a favor to Leonard, the favor turned out to be more than he intended. This, the first move of Leonard's end game, defined the con and his mark.

  Hagler assumed Leonard had reached out in friendship, with no ulterior motives. After his conquest of Hearns, he had become secure enough to let go his envy and resentment of Leonard. After all, Leonard was retired. Hagler was scheduled to defend against John Mugabi in March.

  Leonard and Hagler and their wives, along with Dunlap, Trainer and their wives, relaxed in a private room over dinner and champagne. After dinner, Leonard and Hagler moved off to a quiet corner. Leonard told Hagler he regretted that their bout had never come off.

  "What a megabucks fight," Leonard said.

  "Yeah, a great show," Hagler said.

  Now Hagler, his guard down, confided in Leonard.

  "I'm getting tired of the game," Hagler said.

  He said he had become more susceptible to cuts and he found it harder to push through his training regimen. Hagler also mentioned that Bertha and his mother had wanted him to retire after the Hearns bout - a parallel to Leonard's own experience. Leonard, one surmises, fixed Hagler with his most effective expression - sincere and sympathetic.

  "He kept saying he was not as motivated," Leonard recalled. "And, you know, he's just thinking he's ready to retire right now. And I just heard these things, you know, he's telling me all these things, and I'm saying to myself, this would be the perfect time to fight him.

  "I felt that his heart was not into boxing anymore, and that he felt that he'd run his course. He'd done all he could do, and it was time to leave. So I figured that being the case, if I jumped on board, then it would kind of neutralize my five-year inactivity.

  "All of these things I heard him say was not from a guy who was still concerned about boxing...and I used that to my advantage."

  A month later Leonard asked Dave Jacobs, his longtime trainer, to accompany him to Miami. Leonard and Jacobs had reconciled after their falling-out in 1980. Now Leonard wanted Jacobs to work with him at Angelo Dundee's famed Fifth Street Gym. When Jacobs accepted, Leonard's plan began to take shape.

  In March Leonard was a spectator at Hagler's title defense against Mugabi. Ominously, Hagler had been knocked down in practice a few days before the bout.

  Mugabi was a far more difficult opponent than Hagler expected, and Hagler showed slippage. He was a fraction slower and weaker. Although Hagler stopped Mugabi in the 11th round, he was cut over both eyes and had his right eye half-closed. Later, Hagler urinated blood for a mandatory urinalysis.

  "I remember Marvin being a little disturbed about seeing blood in his urine," recalled Kenny Bayless, an inspector for the Nevada Athletic Commission. Once a physician told him the blood was a result of Mugabi's body blows, and that his urine would return to normal within a day or two, Hagler calmed down.

  After the bout, as he walked with martial arts film star Chuck Norris toward Caesars Palace, Leonard said, "I'll get him now." Norris scoffed, "You've been out too long."

  Leonard went to the suite of actress Whoopi Goldberg, where the A-list revelers included Michael J. Fox. Leonard eventually settled himself in the oversized bathroom, on the rim of one of the large circular bathtubs, and sipped champagne. Goldberg, Fox, and Dunlap joined Leonard on the rim of the bathtub, all fully clothed, and happily inebriated.

  "I want to fight Hagler," Leonard announced, to general delight.

  Leonard had Dunlap dial up Trainer on the east coast and roust him from sleep.

  "Mike, I want to fight Hagler," Leonard said.

  "Call me when you sober up," Trainer said, and hung up.

  Still later, Leonard repaired to a favorite Las Vegas nightclub where he sipped Dom Perignon and chatted with a few reporters. "I can kick Marvin's bleeping butt," he said.

  Back in Maryland, Leonard went to see Trainer.

  "Michael, me and Hagler, who wins?" Leonard asked.

  Trainer looked Leonard in the eye.

  "Ray Leonard ca
n't beat Hagler, but Sugar Ray Leonard can."

  Leonard recalled the conversation years later.

  "When he said that, I didn't understand at first...He was saying that Ray Leonard - the civilian, the businessman, the media personality - couldn't win a fight like that. But if I could get back to being Sugar Ray, I could win."

  Now, paradoxically, Leonard needed to be Sugar Ray in the ring, even as he had to reject Sugar Ray out of the ring.

  Trainer advised Leonard to not challenge Hagler but to lure him into making a challenge.

  "I told Ray, 'From a business standpoint it would be easier for me if you looked reluctant - it's better if Hagler is chasing you,'" Trainer recalled.

  On the first of May Leonard was at City Hall in Washington to help raise funds for a sports medicine foundation. Interviewed by Channel 9 reporter James Brown, Leonard could contain himself no longer. Asked about Hagler, Leonard said, "If Marvin Hagler called me I'd consider coming back."

  To a Washington Post reporter, Leonard said, "If Hagler called me tomorrow, yes (I would fight again). That's why I'm in the gym. If you have his phone number, have him call me up."

  Leonard's challenge dominated sports commentary, as columnists and talk radio hosts offered generally critical and dismissive reactions.

  "You could hear it all over town yesterday, as if the city had taken a left hook to the gut," wrote Thomas Boswell in the Post. "It's a particular kind of grunt you give involuntarily when you hear bad news that's a complete shock yet completely expected, too.