Down Goes Frazier!

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When I saw the R.I.P. next to Joe Frazier's photo one thing came to mind quickly:

"He was something."

Frazier, of course, fought Ali back in the days when boxing was a major sport. Ali was a master and Frazier was more than a worthy adversary, he was sort of nuts. He'd just march forward with his head down taking hit after hit after hit and offering his own punishing shots.

"Down Goes Frazier!!"

I can still hear Howard Cosell screaming it as me, John and Dad watched the Thrilla in Manilla fight in 1975.

We all wanted Frazier to get up. He always seemed to get up. After that fight Ali said he thought he might die in the ring.

About 20 years ago I was out of town for work. I was in Scranton, Pa. for a job and I pulled up to a little rinky-dink hotel that had a great steak house attached. There was a huge stretch limo in front of the steak house, but I didn't pay it much mind. It was only a one-room restaurant however so everyone that showed up that night got to watch Joe Frazier eat his steak.

He was about thirty feet away. The steak he had was as big as his own massive head. The heavyweight championship ring on his finger was as big as the steak.

"He'll shake your hand," my waiter told me. "Just make it fast."

You wouldn't believe how fast it was. I told him he was great and he said something that I really didn't understand. His hand engulfed mine. He smiled.

As I left the joint, all the things I whine about now popped into my head.

"He's just a boxer."

"He makes his living at sport."

"I couldn't even understand him!"

But I kept looking at my hand.

Shake the hand that shook the hand of Joe Frazier.

He was a legend.

The other thing that stands out about that night was that I ordered the same steak he did. I specifically remember telling the waiter:

"I'll have what Joe's having."

My steak was waaaaaaaaayyyyyy smaller.

(Still ain't over that).

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