City (28 page)

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Authors: Alessandro Baricco

BOOK: City
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“In the end, though, he was the one who went down.”

“He was powerful but slow. In boxing you can't let yourself get slow. He was fine till the fourth, fifth round . . . then his legs got heavy, he slowed down completely . . . the thing with him was to get through those first rounds, then came the easy part . . . if you can call it easy . . .”

“He went to the canvas four times, before the referee stopped the fight.”

“Yes, he had courage, and he was proud . . . maybe that stuff about hunger entered into it, he came from hunger . . . he was a good guy . . . that is . . . he was just what you'd imagine a fighter to be, everything, hungry, fierce, mean, and . . . a child, rather childlike . . . once, a few years ago, I go into a bar and there he is, sitting at the bar, wearing these expensive clothes, a silver jacket and a blue tie, something like that you could die laughing but he thought he was very classy . . . he bought me a drink and started talking as if he'd never stop, said he was thinking of a comeback, he'd had a good offer from a casino in Reno, he was still in shape, and even if he spoke a little slowly . . . you know, dragging out his words slightly?, well . . . he seemed in shape enough, he said that the only problem was his left hand, he had a left hand that would break if it so much as turned a doorknob, and then I told him that he didn't have to give a fuck, the right was enough for him, I still remembered that right, I remembered it every time I got out of bed . . . and he was pleased, he smiled, and drank, and smiled . . . at some point he told me something that stayed with me, he told me that, before a fight, he had to touch a child on the head, like so, a caress, something like that, a child, it brought him luck, and he told me that that day, against me, he goes out of the dressing room and then, as usual, heads for the ring, walking through the crowd, and the whole time he's looking around, and there's not a kid to be seen, and when he gets to the ring, and everyone's clapping and shouting, all he can think about is that he hasn't found a child to touch on the head, and even then, standing in the ring, in the last seconds before the gong, he's still looking for a kid in the first rows. And he said that all he saw was adults. Old people. And he said it's really terrible when you look for a kid and you don't see one. Just that. It's really terrible when you look for a kid and you don't see one.”

“Then in fact he did make a comeback, he went ten rounds with
Bradford, quite a sad show.”

“You people out there call it sad . . . you . . . but it's not sad . . . what does sad have to do with it . . . it's not like that, Dan, you know? . . . it's not sad, it's beautiful . . . maybe they fight and it's painful, and you remember when they were quicker and not so fat, and you say How sad, but . . . if you think about it . . . they're only trying to steal a little more luck out of life . . . they've got the right, it's like two people who love each other and after years and years of living together, say after thirty years they've been living and sleeping together, there comes a night when they're in bed and . . . maybe they turn out the light, maybe they're not even completely naked, but there comes this night when they make love again . . . and is that sad?, just because they're old and . . . to me it seems beautiful, if you've been a fighter fighting seems beautiful to you, and I saw that fight . . . Miller, my God, he was fat like . . . but I thought OK, it's all right like that, the punches were real, they had nothing to be ashamed of, if they wanted to do it why shouldn't they, I hope they were paid properly, they deserved it . . .”

“But you yourself never went back to the ring.”

“No.”

“Have you ever been tempted?”

“Oh God, ever . . . hard to say . . . but . . . no, I never really considered going back.”

“After the victory over Miller . . . after five years of professional boxing, with a record of thirty-five wins and only one loss, you became
Butler's official challenger, for the world championship. What do you
remember of that period?”

“Those were the days: we ate well and the time flew by. You know who said that? Drink, Mondini's assistant . . . he fought for two years, two years only, when he was young, but for him it had been paradise, still was . . . I think he had been beaten in every fight, but he was young and . . . I don't know what else, anyway it seemed that they were the only two notable years of his life, and so everyone was always asking him Hey Drink, what was it like? And he'd say: Those were the days: we ate well and the time flew by. Quite a guy.”

“You have always said that you had great admiration for Butler. Were
you afraid of him, before meeting him, the first time, in Cincinnati?”

“Butler was intelligent. He was a particular type of fighter. You would have said he was cut out for . . . pool or something like that . . . something that required nerve, precision, calm . . . something without violence . . . you know what Mondini said about him, when we watched his fights? He said: Learn: he writes the letters with his head: the fists merely deliver the mail, that's all. I watched and I learned. At the time, I recall, many people said he was a dull fighter, there was all this talk about how he made boxing dull, it was dull, like watching someone read a book, they said. But the truth is that he was giving a lecture, every time he fought he was giving a lecture. He was the only one stronger than me.”

“In Cincinnati, that time, you took the world championship crown
away from him, sending him to the canvas thirty-two seconds from the
end of the match.”

“The best round of my life, all in one suspended breath, amazing.”

“Butler said that at a certain point he would have liked to go into the
audience so he could enjoy the sight.”

“Butler was a gentleman, a true gentleman. You know, the other year, in Madison, before Kostner-Avoriaz, we saw each other, he and I, and some other old champions, the usual parade of former champions before the match, up in the ring, with everyone clapping, well, anyway, it was a long event, endless, yet another former champion kept appearing, and at one point Butler, who was next to me, turns to me and says Do you know what a boxer's worst nightmare is? And I say No, I don't . . . I thought it was a joke, so I said No, I don't . . . and yet he was serious. He said to me: To die without money for the funeral. He wasn't joking. He was serious. To die without money for the funeral. Then he turned away and didn't say another word. Well, now it may seem silly, but I thought about that, and you know, it's true? If I think of all the fighters I've talked to, sooner or later that business about where they're going to be buried comes up, and the funeral—it seems ridiculous but it's true, as Butler says, and . . . it's something that made me think, because . . . Me, for example, it never occurred to me, I don't think I've ever once thought about my funeral, I don't know, it's not the sort of thing that occurs to me . . . you know? no, even that, it didn't seem to have much to do with me, with . . . it's like it's not my world, the ring and all . . . I think that was the idea Mondini had, that I had nothing to do with that world, with boxing, and that it didn't matter if I had talent or anything, I had nothing to do with it and that was all, I think that was the reason he never believed in me, truly believed, that, ultimately, was the reason, he thought it wasn't my place, he always refused to change his mind, about that, and . . . never . . . so.”

“Eight months after the match in Cincinnati, you conceded the
rematch to Butler. And you went to the second loss of your career.”

“Yes.”

“Many people said that you weren't prepared for that match, some
even spoke of a fix, they said that the Battistas were already planning the
third fight, and a huge amount of money . . . it was said that they had
forced you to lose . . .”

“I don't know . . . things were very weird around that time. . . they never asked me to do anything, I promise you . . . but then the Battistas never told me anything . . . I don't know, it was sort of like we all had it in mind that the right thing was to have a final bout, to determine who was the stronger. I think that even I in some way would have liked that, not so much for the money, that wasn't so important, it was that . . . it seemed more fair, I don't know, it was like things just ought to go that way. So I went into the ring without knowing very well what I wanted . . . I think I wanted to box . . . to put on a show . . . and, look, if he had been afraid, or even if he'd thought only for an instant that he could lose . . . well, he would have lost, it would have been over for good, for him . . . I certainly wouldn't have dragged myself back . . . only that . . . the fact is that he went up there with a single idea, pounded into his head, a single, precise idea, and that idea was to knock me out of there. And he did it. He saw everything a moment before I did, he knew what I would do, and where I would go, it was like he was figuring out my moves before I did. And meanwhile he hammered. At some point I realized that it was over, and then I vowed that I would at least stay on my feet till the end, I vowed to myself, while I was sitting in the corner, and Battista was giving me I don't know what bullshit that I wasn't even listening to, I said to myself Fuck you, Larry, you will come out of this fight on your feet, if it's the last thing you do. Then the bell rang, there were four rounds till the end, I decided to throw all the strength I had into my legs and put on the best dance Butler had ever seen. I didn't even think about throwing punches, only about flying around him, yes. I could manage it, for four rounds I could manage it. So I started dancing and I began to take Butler for a walk. He fell for it for a minute, a little more than a minute. Then I saw him smile and shake his head. He planted himself in the center of the ring and left me to do my number. Every so often he feinted, but in reality he was waiting, that was all. When he went in with the jab I almost didn't see it coming, I only felt that my legs were gone, and without legs you're not much of a dancer . . .”

“You know that many people said it was a phantom punch, that you
threw yourself down?”

“People see what they want to see. At that point they were convinced that the fight was fixed, and so . . . that was a real punch, I'm telling you . . .”

“Have you ever sold a fight, Larry?”

“What sort of question is that, Dan? . . . we're on the radio . . . you don't ask questions like that . . .”

“I only wondered if you'd ever sold a fight . . . it's been years
now . . .”

“Come on . . . what sort of question is that . . . why should I have sold a fight . . . what difference does it make now anyway . . .”

“OK, as if not said.”

“You know how things go, right? . . . you yourself . . . come on . . .”

“OK, listen, now that you've left and . . . have another life . . . I'd like
to know if you miss the ring, and the public, and the headlines in the
newspapers, and the gym, that world, those people.”

“If I miss them? . . . oh God, it's . . . it's hard to say, things are different, that's over, that . . . it's not that I think about it every day . . . I miss it, yes, I miss something, of course I miss it . . . there were some wonderful things, you know boxing makes you experience some truly unique things, there's nothing like . . . anyway it's something special, truly, I often was . . . I found that I was happy, it gave me a lot of happiness, maybe in odd ways, it's not easy to explain, but . . . how to say . . . it was . . . it made me a happy man, that's it, for example, I remember once, in San Sebastiano, I can't even recall now who I was supposed to fight, well, I had some weight problems, every so often it happened, and so to get me back to my weight Mondini woke me, at five in the morning, when it was still dark . . . I put on the heavy track suit, and on top of that my robe, with the hood over my head, and the idea was to jump rope for a solid hour and sweat like a pig, and that's what I'd do, it was the only sure method for losing weight in a short time . . . but . . . the problem was that we were in a hotel, and Mondini said he didn't want me to jump rope in my room, I'd wake everyone up, and so we went downstairs to look for a place, and there was no one around, at that hour, so we opened doors at random and ended up in a big ballroom, you know, the sort of place that's used for weddings, parties, and so on, there was a long table and a little stage for the orchestra, and big windows looking out onto the city. I remember that the chairs were stacked upside down on the table and there was also a drum set, on the stage, you know?, but covered with a sheet, a pink sheet, just imagine. Mondini turned out the light and said to me Jump, and don't stop until you see the color of the cars in the street. Then he left. So I stayed there, alone, all wrapped up, the hood pulled over my head, and I began to jump rope, alone, in the dark, with the whole sleeping city around me, and there I was, with the rhythm of the rope, and the sound of my feet on the wood, and the hood over my head, and my eyes staring straight ahead, and . . . the heat, and then the dawn, little by little, through the big windows, but slowly,
delicately
, Christ, it was like being . . . I don't know, it was wonderful, I remember I was jumping, and my thoughts moved to the rhythm of my feet, and what I was thinking was I am unbeatable, I am safe, just that, I am safe, I am safe, while I was jumping, and I was thinking, I am safe . . . like that.”

“. . .”

“I imagine that's what it is, to feel happy.”

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