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Mark KriegelESPN
The great fighter retires with his fortune and faculties intact.
He then retires, resisting the urgencies of the promoters, the public, and the fierce power of his own ego, which made him great in the first place.
It’s the most unlikely story in boxing.
And he is the happiest.
And it’s wonderful Marvin Hagler, forever.
“When I wonder what the hell he was doing boxing all these years, I think of Marvin Hagler,” Bob Arum said Saturday, shortly after being informed of Hagler’s passing. “He was the most loyal and dedicated fighter I’ve ever promoted.”
That’s from a 55-year-old man in the business, a guy who couldn’t make Hagler come back. However, not for lack of trying and regardless of price.
Arum remembers being at Caesars Palace in the late 1980s. Muhammad Ali was there. Tommy Hearns was there. So did Roberto Duran and Ray Leonard, about a year after Leonard won his controversial decision over Hagler.
“Tell Marvin we should do it again, revenge,” Leonard told Arum. “We’ll make a fortune. Tell him.”
Because Leonard’s logic was unassailable, Arum sent the message.
Hagler looked intently at the promoter. “Tell Ray to have a life,” he said.
There are no aspirations to the great Leonard, but that is the hardest part. For fighters, fighting is the easiest. Not fighting is harder. Having a life, being happy, healthy and rich enough to enjoy after the fights, is the most difficult proposition of all. And when you evaluate Hagler’s place in the history of boxing: Leonard’s always contested decision, the less ambiguous decision about Duran, the stops of Alan Minter, Vito Antuofermo, Hearns (see ESPN +) and John Mugabi, that it should count as his greatest victory.
The Great could not do it. I remember the first time I saw Ali in person, signing haberdashery at Macy’s. Someone had to wipe the slime out of his mouth. It was a terrible thing to see, but even in the midst of this prolonged celebration of Ali-Frazier’s 50th birthday and the memory of Ali’s majesty, it’s worth remembering.
Hagler did not return after Leonard’s fight.
He didn’t owe the IRS.
He did not feel the need to sell himself in an “exhibition.”
He didn’t need to nurture his ego or calm his grief. Other people might argue about the meaning of his career or about Leonard’s struggle itself. Hagler knew what he was doing. He spoke his piece in the ring in its fullest expression, as it should be. And when it was over, it was over.
I actually wanted to do it sooner. “I wanted to retire after Hearns,” Arum said, referring to his three-round standard for concussive battles for the title. “But it was big business at casinos. This was the biggest weekend ever held at Caesars Palace.”
Arum recalls that the casino increased its offer “a couple of million,” when a couple of million meant something. After all, Hagler would fight Mugabi, 25-0, every stop, when 25-0 meant anything.
Finally, Hagler allowed himself to speak with Mugabi, whom he eliminated in the eleventh round. Then, 13 months later, at which point he learned that his skills were eroding, it was Leonard.
“I remember driving for five hours with Pat Petronelli, his manager, in the middle of the night,” Arum recalled. “When we finally get to his house in New Hampshire, Pat tells me to wait in the car. He’s going to meet Marvin. They’re talking in this little picnic area next to the house. Go on and on and on and on Finally, I see to Marvin clenching his fists on the table. I’m thinking, “This isn’t going so well. Then Pat went back to the car.”
“It simply came to our notice then that all this? Arum asked
“You won’t believe it,” said Petronelli, who, along with his brother Goody, Hagler’s coach, had offered to reduce his rates by 50 percent for the fight to take place.
“What did he say?” Arum asked.
“He said, ‘I don’t know if I’ll fight this bastard, but if I do, you better take your full share.’
Hagler and Leonard fought on April 6, 1987 (see ESPN +).
“It never hurt me,” Hagler said later.
“Where are you going now?” Leonard asked. “I feel sad for him. I really do.”
As it happened, Hagler had a life, as Rick Telander delightfully reported in 1990 to Sports Illustrated. He moved to Milan and became an actor, mostly bad in action movies. He still had most of his money, most of $ 40 million, health and memories intact.
“I saw Joe Louis at the door of Caesars Palace, just shaking his hand, and that left a bad taste in my mouth,” he told Telander. “Then I saw Jersey Joe Walcott doing the same thing in Atlantic City.”
Earlier this year, Hagler traveled back to the United States to see how his daughter was graduating from high school. He ran into Petronelli.
“For the first time in my life, I’m happy with myself,” he told the manager. “I’m retired.”
Even if he still rejected unknown riches for a rematch with Leonard.
“I just downloaded the phone with Ray,” Arum said Saturday night. “It’s very broken.”