“GREAT WHITE HOPELESS” and “NOT SO SUPER MARIO”
#734/#733
734. DUANE BOBICK VS KEN NORTON
HEAVYWEIGHT NON-TITLE FIGHT
MAY 11, 1977
MADISON SQUARE GARDEN
QUALITY OF PLAY—6.03
DRAMA—7.04
STAR POWER—7.08
CONTEMPORARY IMPORT—8.65
HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE—7.56
LOCAL IMPACT—7.75
TOTAL: 44.41
“GREAT WHITE HOPELESS”
Now and forever, it helps in America to be a white guy. This holds especially true for the boxing ring, where throughout history lesser talented caucasian dudes have gotten opportunities based on their skin color, due to the precept that the masses will pay big dollars to see whites clobber blacks or browns under the guise of sport.
If there was ever an example of this “Salpeter Principle” at work, it was Duane Bobick, a decent enough fighter from Minnesota who came through the ranks in the Golden Age of Heavyweights, the 1970s. In fairness, Bobick was useful enough in the ring, especially as an amateur, where he scored a pair of notable wins, defeating Larry Holmes to be the heavyweight representative on the 1972 Olympic team, a year after shocking Cuban legend Teofilo Stevenson at the 1971 Pan-American Games. But the great Teo had his revenge at the Munich Olympics, pulverizing Bobick with an overhand right that won the Cuban the gold medal and highlighted a weakness that would plague Bobick thereafter.
Bobick turned professional, and fell under the aegis of the great but aging Joe Frazier, who having seen the gate receipts balloon from his fight with another white hope, Jerry Quarry, sought out a bankable figure to manage. Frazier steered Bobick clear of most troublesome opponents, and, to his credit, the “All-American Boy” put away a steady series of tomato cans, lesser talents, and inexperienced foes.
“This white kid can fight,” Duane insisted about himself, though doubters were legion. Bobick defended his gaudy 38-0 record by saying, “I had 38 fights—there must have been one live body in that bunch.” A young Mike Weaver, a future champ more renowned for his physique than his ring acumen, qualified, as did the “Bayonne Bleeder,” Chuck Wepner, whom Bobick knocked out in Utica in October, 1976. But sizable questions remained about Bobick’s ability to tangle with any of the top-ranked contenders. He was, at heart, a gentle soul, tall (6’3”) with a long head and an unflattering haircut that was ‘70s mod meets Frankenstein’s Monster. When he spoke, he sounded like a frog about to submerge after spying a snake.
Plus, his name was “Duane.”
At last, Frazier reached put up or shut up time. Bobick was paired with Ken Norton, a former Marine and superstar prep athlete from Illinois. This was a highly dangerous opponent, best known for his trilogy of fights with Muhammad Ali, during which he broke the jaw of the Greatest while handing him only his second-ever defeat, before losing two hotly contested decisions, the most recent in September of 1976.
Eight months later, the 33-year old Norton, now 37-4, climbed into the ring with the undefeated Bobick, with a shot at Ali’s title on the line for the winner. It was, randomly, a Wednesday night, May 11, 1977, at the Garden. It seemed to be a date selected by NBC executives, who were airing the fight in prime time (and, with an incredible viewing audience of 42 million, they were proven wise).
Frazier and Bobick were undoubtedly hoping that the accumulated wear of 39 exhausting rounds with Ali, plus Norton’s advancing age, would even the playing field, giving the 26-year old Bobick a fighting chance. But Norton was a powerhouse slugger at any age, and he had plenty left for the White Hope in front of him.
Seconds after the opening bell, Norton threw an exploratory right to the body, and noticed of Bobick that “his eyes would follow my head down.” That opened the door for Norton’s best shot, the same looping overhead rights that had given Bobick such trouble as an amateur, especially when thrown with the violent force Kenny was capable of producing (just ask Ali). Norton’s first one stunned Bobick in his tracks, leaving the menu wide open for Norton’s next choice of punch.
Norton selected ‘all,’ throwing a cavalcade of blows, the most telling a right uppercut to the throat that crippled Bobick, opening "tiny little hemorrhages” in his Adam’s apple and squirting tears from his eyes. The fight, for all intents and purposes, was over, but Bobick still stood, so Norton unleashed a fusillade of rights that trapped Bobick in his own corner, and at last toppled the undefeated contender before a minute was even gone in the opening round.
Bobick, surprisingly, managed to beat the count, rising at nine. Referee Petey Della at first waved to Norton to continue the pummeling, but then looked into Bobick's eyes and saw vacancy. He ended the fight after a mere 58 seconds of the first round.
It was Bobick’s first defeat as a pro. In less than a minute, he went from Great White Hope to glassy-eyed joke.
AFTERMATH:
It took a few weeks before Bobick could speak again after that piledriver to the voice box. Norton was generous in victory, brushing aside his pre-fight talk that Bobick wasn’t in his class, saying “We haven't heard the last of Bobick.”
But we had. Bobick returned to the ring in July to best Scott LeDoux, but was walloped in South Africa by journeyman Kallie Knoetze, and he petered out to a 48-4 finish to his career, which was over just two years after Norton exposed his contention for the mockery it was.
Bobick left boxing and returned to Minnesota, where he was reduced to taking a job in a paper mill. In 1997, he was nearly killed when two enormous paper rollers crushed his arms. Bobick avoided death, and, thanks to some exceptional surgical techniques, amputation. But he couldn’t work again.
Sadly, Bobick is yet another fighter who suffers from dementia pugilistica. In one of his last coherent interviews, Bobick told the Morrison County (MN) Record “I’m not sure I would have gone into boxing back then if I would have known all the effects of head trauma that I know today, but I don’t regret the experience, intense training and discipline I learned from the sport.”
WHAT THEY SAID:
“I'm always a slow starter. I guess I started even slower than usual.”
—Duane Bobick
FURTHER READING:
“Make Him 38-1” by Pat Putnam, Sports Illustrated
VIDEO:
733. NEW JERSEY DEVILS VS PITTSBURGH PENGUINS
EASTERN CONFERENCE FINALS
GAME FIVE
MAY 22, 2001
CONTINENTAL AIRLINES ARENA
QUALITY OF PLAY—6.99
DRAMA—6.24
STAR POWER—8.05
CONTEMPORARY IMPORT—8.75
HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE—7.36
LOCAL IMPACT—7.03
TOTAL: 44.42
“NOT SO SUPER MARIO”
It had been an eventful three years for Mario Lemiuex, hockey’s greatest player not named Gretzky (and, to many, a better, sturdier all-around force). In 1997 Super Mario retired, worn down by his Hodgkins disease, a chronically bad back, and the grinding, zone-trap defenses that swallowed creativity and potent offenses during this ugly period of hockey.
But mismanagement by the Penguins ownership group required Lemieux to approach the NHL with a plan—since he had been forced to take so many deferred payments in salary, he would use those as credit and buy the team, becoming the owner and thus being able to pay off the many creditors looking for their money after the team declared bankruptcy.
Early in the 2000-2001 season Lemieux, who had stabilized the ship, gave the box office a jolt by coming out of retirement at age 35. He joined superstar Jaromir Jagr on the ice, and the Pens responded. Mario wasn’t his old self, perhaps, but his muscle memory was better than most players’ raw talents. Lemieux justified his comeback by getting a goal and two assists in his first game, scoring at least a point in his first eight games, earning his spot in the All-Star Game and finishing fifth on his team in scoring with 35 goals and 41 assists.
The Pens qualified for the playoffs, but they were looking up, as every team in the east was, at the defending champs from Jersey. The Devils had followed their 2000 title by topping the conference with contemptuous ease. Led by nonpareil goaltender Martin Brodeur, and a rock-ribbed defense that epitomized everything Lemieux hated about the contemporary game, the Devils were favorites to repeat.
The playoff road was a doozy for both squads. The Devils eased by the Hurricanes in six in the opening round, then needed to win Games Six and Seven to escape an upset at the hands of Toronto. Pittsburgh, the sixth seed, got an overtime winner in Game Six to advance past Washington, then won in OT in both Games Six and Seven in a thrilling, ultra-tight series with Buffalo (the Sabres won Game Five in OT as well). That brought Super Mario and Jagr, the NHL’s scoring leader in 2001, to East Rutherford for the conference finals.
The teams split the first two games in Jerz, but then Brodeur took over, shutting out the Pens in Pittsburgh in consecutive games, an unthinkable development for the local fans used to watching the home team pile up goals. But New Jersey’s left wing lock, zone trap defense and Brodeur’s brilliance hammerlocked the Pens. Jagr didn’t have a point through four games.
So the western Pennsylvania VI needed something big to reverse the tide when the teams skated on to the Continental Airlines Arena ice on Tuesday night, May 22, 2001.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get it. Jason Arnott took a pass at the top of the right circle just one minute into the game and skimmed the rubber through a web of body parts to best Johan Hedberg and give the Devils an early and demoralizing 1-0 lead.
Mario and Jaromir were thoroughly discombobulated by this point, but an unheralded teammate gave Pittsburgh some life. Aleksey Morosov scored to tie the game late in the first period, at last ending Brodeur’s shutout streak at just over 151 minutes.
But it wasn’t enough. Arnott scored again in the second period, a shotgun blast from just inside the blue line, and linemate Bobby Holik added another on a slap shot later in the frame. Martin Straka stuffed in a rebound of a Lemieux shot to pull one back, accounting for a rare assist from the master in this series.
But Brodeur made the 3-2 lead stand up, blocking a series of third period shots with his usual aplomb. With 3:30 left, Devils forward John Madden skated off on a breakaway and beat Hedberg for the game-clinching goal.
The Big Airplane crowd went bananas. The final horn sounded moments later. 4-2 Devils, and they won the series in five games. Lemieux had been held to just three assists, and Jagr blanked outright. Mario was so frustrated he smashed Madden down from behind with a minute left, seemingly just so he could finish the season in the penalty box. The clutching and grabbing style that had caused Lemieux’s initial retirement from the sport was now responsible for his comeback season ending a step short of the Cup Finals. Small wonder Lemieux was peeved.
Regardless of Mario’s anger, it was a stunning defensive performance, even by Devils standards. Other than a brief six minute period when the Pens controlled Game Two, the series had been utterly dominated by the guys in red and white.
Jersey was back in the Stanley Cup Finals, four games away from a repeat title.
AFTERMATH:
Alas, this time the finals weren’t so good to the Diablos, as the Colorado Avalanche, riding the karma of Ray Bourque seeking a title at the end of his long and brilliant career, took out the Devils in seven thrilling games, overcoming a 3-2 deficit to do so.
Pittsburgh was so frustrated by Jagr’s non-performance (just two goals in 16 playoff games) they came tantalizingly close to trading him to the Islanders for the second pick in the draft. Oh, what might have been for the Isles…
WHAT THEY SAID:
“This is not a surprise to us that we’re back.”
—Bobby Holik, Devils forward
FURTHER READING:
“The Owner Looks Ahead After Losing” by George Vecsey, The New York Times
VIDEO: