LAS VEGAS – The bell echoed mournfully throughout the MGM Grand Garden Arena. It was boxing’s haunting version of Taps for an old soldier. That’s what Joe Frazier really was. He was the soldier with scars from old battles, yet an undiminished memory that reminded him of who he was and often what he still wanted to be.
Frazier always wanted to fight on. That was appropriate on a night when Manny Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Marquez fought on and on, from round to riveting round in the third chapter Saturday of a trilogy that ended in a way that demanded more than three.
Frazier always wanted a fourth fight against Ali. Maybe, Marquez will get his fourth after losing a majority decision loudly booed by the crowd of more than 16,000, yet probably cheered by Floyd Mayweather Jr.
On a night when he was an overwhelming favorite, Pacquiao’s mixed performance probably improved chances that Mayweather will finally say yes to the one fight few ever thought would happen, although Pacquiao promoter Bob Arum said he will try to put together Pacquiao-Marquez IV for May 2012. Pacquiao didn’t look as if he would be much of a threat to Mayweather. At least, he didn’t against Marquez, whom Mayweather beat easily.
But that’s another story for another day. Whatever happens, Marquez and Pacquiao honored Frazier as much as those 10 bells mourned his passing. They would not retreat from the stubborn ferocity that has marked their rivalry through three different weight classes and eight long years. After three fights, there’s still an argument about who is the better fighter. It’s an argument that Frazier never quit making, even though he had lost two of three to Muhammad Ali. Neither Arum nor Don King could ever put together a fourth Frazier-Ali fight.
If Frazier had been in the crowd, it’s safe to say he probably would have been cheering for Marquez. He would have identified with the determined Mexican, whose tactical skill lands punches yet has been no match for Pacquiao’s charisma and celebrity.
For Frazier, there was always that impossible fight against Ali’s own celebrity. It was the one thing for which had absolutely no counter. But who did?
There were others who tried. One sat quietly in the Grand Garden Arena crowd. Earnie Shavers arrived about an hour before opening bell. He was surrounded by fans rushing to their seats. Nobody recognized him. Shavers was just another forgotten contender from a generation of heavyweights known for an Ali who needed Frazier, George Foreman, Ken Norton and even an Acorn to help him define his time.
Shavers was nicknamed the Acorn. Not because he ate them. He looked like one. He also had enough power to crack one wide open with single punch. Ali knew that. Shavers nearly stopped him on what could have been a fateful night for him, for Ali and perhaps even Frazier.
But Shavers couldn’t do what Frazier did once in three fights, the first in his trilogy. He beat Ali.
“A good man, Joe was a really good man,’’ Shavers said as he walked through the turnstiles and for the third chapter in another trilogy four decades and so many punches after the one that has become a standard, the reference point for what a rivalry should be.
And on a night when he was remembered, Joe Frazier was also a really good lesson about how great history never dies. It just gives us another trilogy.
