The defensive playground boast Stick and stones may break my bones but words will never harm me was always unconvincing protesting, as it did, far, far too much. In case you doubted this, consider the sorry example of Joe Frazier, lion of Manila and the Garden, forever embittered and broken by Muhammad Ali’s taunting.
All before my time, of course, and boxing will never capture the imagination in Britain (or the United States) as it did back then. The 1970s were a golden era and not just in the heavyweight division either. The confluence of colour television and a phalanx of genuine stars prepared to fight one another anytime, any place helped captivate much of the planet. Ali and Frazier were pre-eminent, of course, but there were plenty of other champions.
It’s tough to avoid feeling sorry for Joe Frazier, even if you fancy he’d thank you to avoid expressing such or any pity for him.
Get Britain's best politics newsletters
Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in