In the Rusty Rail Party House on a balmy Friday evening in Canastota, a small,
sleepy town in upstate New York, Marvelous Marvin Hagler rose from his stool
and flexed his left arm, almost instinctively. Once this might have given
cause for an immediate evacuation of the vicinity, for in his heyday Hagler
personified meanness. “He speaks in monosyllables — if he is in a
good mood — and in cold, icy stares if he is not,” George Kimball, a
contemporary boxing writer, recorded. “The slightest mishap is apt to send
him into a tantrum, as the matter at hand [the fight] dominates his every
thought.” But as a highlights film played to an audience of former fighters
and aficionados, the most gracious and gregarious man in the room was Hagler.
Pacing the podium, he provided commentary and generated laughter. “I get
chills every time I watch this,” Hagler revealed about his three-round war
with Tommy Hearns in 1985, such a devastating encounter that when it was
over Russia was suggested as a suitable prospective opponent for the world
middleweight champion.
Despite Hagler’s metamorphosis and the fact that the International Boxing Hall
of Fame had organised this “Night of Middleweights” during its annual
induction weekend that lured Roberto Duran, another Hagler opponent, all the
way from Panama, Hearns, the Hitman from Detroit, was nowhere in sight.
Perhaps he, too, can barely believe that a boxer who wore baseball caps
bearing the legend, “Destruct and Destroy,” in training camps that were
“just like jail” is now a resident of an exclusive, trendy area of Milan and
an actor. True, the parts he has played are more Chuck Norris than Cary
Grant but Hagler takes his work seriously and, like every aspirant in this
mercurial profession, he is waiting for the perfect role that will make his
name and reputation in a new, unconquered world.
“I may never become an Oscar-winner but I’m getting better and more
comfortable in front of the camera. Eventually, I’d like to portray a
character that is different to my image as a boxer and a tough guy. I really
want to learn this craft,” he explained at the end of the night in a
coherent, clear voice containing the merest hint of an Italian influence but
readily identifiable with Brockton, Massachusetts, the town he and Rocky
Marciano built into a boxing fortress.
Shortly after his career in the ring ended in a controversial defeat on points
at the hands of Sugar Ray Leonard in 1987, he moved to Milan to work with
the Italian director, Antonio Margheriti, and he has lived there ever since,
though he and his wife, Kay, whom he met in Italy, still spend several
months of the year in New Hampshire, not far from Brockton.
“When I was boxing I would go to Provincetown [on the edge of Cape Cod] to
train. For two months I had no sex, no alcohol, no dancing, no theatre. They
had nothing down there that was interesting, which made it the perfect place
for me to prepare my mind. I was going to war and that place was just like
jail. Solitude is something you need as an actor, too, to prepare your mind
for the role, to learn your lines and to really get a feel for the
character, so my boxing background has probably helped.
“Sometimes there’s no getting away from it. I remember being on the set of
Indio with [award-winning actor] Brian Dennehy and asking him to go over
some scenes we would have in the movie. Brian’s favourite movie is On The
Waterfront and he’s a real boxing fan. So when we take a break and arrange
to meet I’m excited because I’ll be learning from a distinguished actor but,
of course, all he wanted to talk about was Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali and
my fight with Tommy!”
Ultimately, Hagler would make $40m by engaging in some of the most compelling
fights of the 1980s against Duran, Hearns and Leonard but his objectives
when he turned professional in 1973 after winning the national Amateur
Athletic Union (AAU) middleweight title were modest. He spoke about making
enough money out of sport’s most brutal business so that he and his first
wife, Bertha, could afford to open a laundrette. His first purse was for
$50. Having experienced the notorious Newark race riots of 1967 as a young
teenager — a harrowing week that led to the family’s move to Brockton —
Hagler realised that anything he would make of his life “could only be
earned the hard way”.
He was 15 years old when he left school and his son, Champ, was born shortly
thereafter, so he worked on construction sites and took to the streets,
“running a lot, stealing a little”. The surliness that characterised his
years in boxing was born of these circumstances. “If you signed a contract
and said you were going to turn up, that’s when my meanness would start,” he
acknowledged. “Just give me a name and I went into that persona, that’s the
way I was.”
For years he was the uncrowned king of the middleweights as he ripped through
a succession of contenders, but boxing politics denied him a title shot.
“Joe Frazier once told me I had three strikes against me: I’m a southpaw,
I’m black and I can punch,” Hagler told Sports Illustrated in 1978. “Maybe I
should have been born a right-handed white sissy.”
Finally, in 1979 he got a shot at the title against Vito Antuofermo but the
Las Vegas judges scored the bout a draw and the New York-based Italian
retained the belts. Hagler, who was held to a draw by Sugar Ray Seales
before he suffered a couple of disputed defeats on points against Bobby
Watts and Willie Monroe in the mid-1970s, had been robbed again. Only when
Alan Minter won the title from Antuofermo in 1980 and was forced to defend
against Hagler, the mandatory contender, did his fortunes change but even
then victory was bittersweet.
“My moment of glory was taken from me,” he said, referring to the riot which
broke out at Wembley when Minter was stopped in the third round and bottles
and chairs rained down on Hagler and his cornermen. “I’m still the only
champion never to have received his belt in the ring after winning the title
because we had to flee the arena. The events of Wembley stayed with me for
years and made me meaner.”
His malevolence reached its peak against Hearns in a fight that many observers
consider to be the most awesome display of sustained action ever to take
place inside a ring. At ringside that night Hugh McIlvanney described Hagler
as “a man possessed, the very incarnation of furious hostility,” and years
later the fight’s intensity remains fresh in the memory. “I was something
special but people just weren’t paying attention, so it all came out against
Tommy and I showed the world I was the best fighter out there,” declared
Hagler. “No one ever gave me my dues but I kept rolling until, finally, I
rolled over Tommy and they [the critics] couldn’t say one damn thing.”
Almost inevitably, one last twist of fate would haunt Hagler for years. When
Sugar Ray Leonard came out of retirement to challenge the long-reigning
champion he was just two successful defences shy of Carlos Monzon’s record
for the division. The ultimate example of a blue-collar champion, Hagler
loathed what he regarded as the easy ride Leonard’s gold medal success in
the 1976 Olympics had secured him as a professional and to this day he has
nothing good to say about his nemesis. “Leonard should have turned up in his
running shoes that night, for it was like trying to chase a rabbit down a
hole. Without me pressing, we wouldn’t have had a fight,” he insisted. “In
my heart I will always know I won the fight and Ray knows, too, but he won’t
admit it.”
There were rumours of drug abuse — which Hagler has always denied —
while his drinking got out of hand in the wake of a demoralising defeat. “It
left a bitter taste in my mouth and finished me with boxing,” he
acknowledged.
“Throughout my career I’d always had to battle my way through to get the
recognition and even at the end they couldn’t give me a break.” His acting
career proved therapeutic in overcoming his loss. “I left the sport with all
my faculties and I’ve moved on,” he said with satisfaction. “I enjoy my
life today and people still celebrate my accomplishments.” In the Rusty Rail
Party House there was no confusion about what they were celebrating, though
the man they cheered off the stool aspires to another great performance.
Hagler’s tale of the tape
— Early in his career, Marvin Hagler lost to Willie Monroe and
Bobby ‘Boogaloo’ Watts, but knocked out both men in rematches
— In 1979, he fought champion Vito Antuofermo for the world
middleweight title, but the bout was declared a draw
— Antuofermo lost his title to Alan Minter, of England, who
agreed to defend it against Hagler in London. It took the American only
three rounds to destroy Minter in a fight marred by crowd trouble
— He was a busy champion, beating the likes of Roberto Duran,
Thomas Hearns and John Mugabi before a controversial points decision went
against him when he fought Sugar Ray Leonard in 1987
— He retired from boxing after being refused a rematch with
Leonard, changed his name legally to Marvelous Marvin Hagler and made some
commercials, most notably for Pizza Hut and Gillette
— He moved to Italy, where he starred in several movies including
Indio and Indio 2
— Hagler also does regular boxing commentary for British
television
