For many Americans, April 15 in the date by which they need to file their income tax returns. Hardly a day for celebration, particularly if it turns out you owe the feds even more than what they have already taken out of your weekly paychecks.
However, for fight fans of all nationalities, April 15 is or should be a day of joyful remembrance. It is the day when one of the most important bouts in boxing history took place, a time-capsule piece that should be forever preserved so that future generations can see for themselves why what occurred on that date in Las Vegas so mesmerized their antecedents.
Yes, undisputed middleweight champion Marvelous Marvin Hagler’s third-round technical knockout of challenger Thomas Hearns 31 years ago -- which concluded eight minutes, one second of some of the highest drama ever witnessed in the prize ring -- was that incredible. So much action was stuffed into those 481 sensational seconds that even the commentators charged with describing what they had seen were hard-pressed to come up with enough superlatives.
“That was an entire fight encompassed in three minutes!” marveled Al Michaels, the blow-by-blow announcer for the closed-circuit telecast, his words uttered after an opening round in which Hagler and Hearns hurled themselves at one another with uncommon ferocity. “Great first round! Incredible! Perhaps the best in middleweight history!”
Jim Lampley, the host for the March 26, 2003 premiere of “Legendary Nights: The Tale of Hagler-Hearns” -- it was part of a documentary series on some of the most memorable boxing matches broadcast by the pay-cable giant -- was no less effusive in his praise of what became an instant classic.
“It’s possibly the most memorable fight in 30 years of boxing on HBO,” Lampley said. “It’s the most hellacious eight minutes of combat in modern boxing history, a confrontation so starkly violent it took away the breath of hardened ringside observers.”
In his wrap-up to the episode, Lampley noted that it might have been a good thing that Hagler and Hearns never got around to the do-over that would have commanded widespread interest because, well, how could they possibly have topped the original?
“Because of Hagler’s abrupt retirement two years later [after his disputed split decision loss to Sugar Ray Leonard], there would be no rematch of Hagler-Hearns, no sequel to dilute or diminish the impact of their abbreviated street fight,” Lampley said. “And for Hearns, just as was the case following his heartbreaking loss to Leonard four years before, his image as a great warrior was further enhanced. Hearns’ career proves that great fights can establish a fighter’s greatness whether the record shows he won or lost.”
Given the fact that both Hagler and Hearns were first-ballot inductees into the International Boxing Hall of Fame -- Hagler in 1993, Hearns in 2012 -- perhaps the way the fight played out should have at least somewhat been anticipated. Promoter Bob Arum even dubbed the much-anticipated matchup “The War” beforehand. However, Hagler was known as a take-his-time fighter who needed a couple of rounds to get comfortable before systematically disassembling opponents. The spindly Hearns, who had spent most of his career at welterweight, was making his debut at middleweight, which dictated that he, too, come out cautiously before settling into selective attack mode.
At his plush training camp at the Eden Roc Resort in Miami Beach, Hearns even confirmed that it was not in his best interests to swap bombs with Hagler too quickly, which is why veteran boxing writer Michael Katz, then with the New York Times, advised his readers that “Hearns may be most vulnerable if he goes for an early knockout.”
Hearns’ manager-trainer, Emanuel Steward, agreed with that assessment, plotting out a fight plan that called for Hearns to probe for weaknesses in Hagler’s defense, thus giving him the best opportunity to unleash the devastating right hand that had enabled “The Hitman” from Detroit to register 17 consecutive knockouts at the outset of his career and 25 of 26 emphatic putaways.
“I’m not going to stand there trading punches,” Hearns had said before heading out to Caesars Palace, in case anyone doubted the strategy he intended to follow. “I’m not a trader, not in this business.”
However, as another knockout artist of some note, Mike Tyson, would later note, “Everybody has a plan until they get hit,” at which point the script goes out the window and raw animal instinct takes over. That is exactly what happened within the first minute of the first round, as Hearns wobbled the iron-jawed Hagler with the same battering-ram overhand right that had the effect of turning out the lights on such great fighters as Wilfred Benitez and Roberto Duran. Hardly anyone had even caused Hagler to wince, much less enter the danger zone, but now the menacing southpaw was taking a couple of awkward steps backward, as if he had left a tavern just a bit tipsy. Not only that, but Hagler was cut on the forehead, a crimson gash that would bleed profusely throughout the remainder of the bout.
Hearns’ finisher’s instincts immediately kicked in, as did Hagler’s determination to meet fire with fire, now that the flames of potential disaster were licking his sculpted body. So the boxing clinic that might have been envisioned by both sides, at least initially, was scrapped and replaced by full frontal assaults.
“I liked to be very cautious, ease my way into a fight kind of slow,” Hagler allowed years later, “but that wasn’t possible. We were just ready to go at it.”
CompuBox numbers -- a relatively new statistical tracking device which was being used for only the third time -- revealed that Hagler had landed 50 of 82 punches in that epic first round, all power shots (non-jabs), to 56 of 83 for Hearns. It was like a live-action version of Rock ’Em, Sock ’Em Robots. So this was the way it was going to be. There would be no going back to sticking and moving, no return to dreary technical expertise. Caution had been tossed to the wind, and none of the giddy 15,141 spectators was disposed to hand it back to the combatants.
The Ring magazine would call that first round “the greatest in boxing history,” but as it turned out, the punch that lit the fuse leading to the powder keg was more impactful than anyone might have imagined. While Hearns’ jolting right hand for all intents and purposes had begun the battle that would stand above all boxing battles, it also signaled the beginning of the end of whatever chances the 7-to-5 underdog had of pulling off the upset.
Unbeknownst to anyone except those in his camp, Hearns had suffered a bruised right hand while training in Miami Beach 10 days before the fight. He took two days off from sparring and was given medical clearance to proceed when he appeared to show no ill effects. However, Hearns’ right hand, although his principal weapon, was also something of an Achilles’ heel. He and Hagler originally had been scheduled to square off on May 24, 1982, two months after Hagler had destroyed William “Caveman” Lee in one round and Hearns had also polished off Marcos Geraldo in the opening stanza. Hearns, however, had suffered an injury to his right hand that forced a postponement to July 12, which became a cancellation when the sore hand still had not recovered to Hearns’ or Steward’s satisfaction.
When Hearns rocked Hagler with that big right hand in the first round, it altered the course of the fight in more ways than one. Hearns broke his hand in landing that punch, and although he continued to throw the right often and accurately, much of the power had been drained from it.
“He had a hard head,” Hearns said of Hagler. “I mean, I couldn’t believe how hard this man’s head was. I said, ‘I can see why he keeps his head shaved bald.’”
For his part, Hagler was buoyed by the fact that he had taken Hearns’ best shot and withstood it, a signal that the outcome that eventually transpired was all but inevitable.
“I figured once I got through the right hand, he was all mine,” Hagler said. “After he hit me with the right hand, I think that was his best shot. I was thinking, ‘You cannot knock me out, so you better hit me with that ring post ’cause I ain’t going nowhere.”
Hagler got the better of it in a second round that was still electrifying, if not quite on the impossibly high level of the first, and when the bell rang, it appeared that Hearns already had been sapped of most of whatever energy he had brought to the ring at the start. Yet there still was the matter of Hagler’s bleeding forehead, which left open the possibility of his losing by stoppage if the cut continued to worsen. Referee Richard Steele did, in fact, call time in the third round to call over physician Donald Romero to take a look at Hagler, who was given the OK to continue fighting.
“I just prayed to God to give me the chance [to continue], and He did,” Hagler said of the moment of uncertainty when he was being examined by Romero. He was determined to make the most of that chance, and he went at Hearns with the singular purpose of ending matters right then and there, landing four heavy blows, the last of which, a big right, sent Hearns crashing to the canvas, seemingly unconscious. Amazingly, Hearns made it to his feet at the count of nine, but he was clearly in no shape to continue and Steele waved off the slugfest after an elapsed time of 2:01.
For those who have tested themselves in the cauldron of the ring, as Hagler and Hearns did, and formed a bond of mutual respect in the process, past animosities can be pushed aside and replaced by something more lasting and conciliatory. There was no love lost between the two men during a 21-city, 13-day media tour in which the obligatory insults were exchanged, but it is the warrior’s creed to salute any opponent who reaches deep inside himself and finds the same gritty resolve that defines the best of the breed.
“Every day people talk to me about that fight, like it happened yesterday,” Hagler said in an interview with the British Broadcasting Corporation many years later, “and now I see why people think that fight was one of the best in boxing history. It was the highlight of my career. Both of us gave our hearts, our blood -- everything. I give Tommy a lot of credit. He came to take my title. I get chills every time I see our fight. I get chills just talking about it.”
So do a lot of other people, Marvin. To you and to Hearns, there really is only one thing left to be said: Thanks for the memories, and may they long endure.
Bernard Fernandez, a five-term president of the Boxing Writers Association of America, received the Nat Fleischer Award from the BWAA in April 1999 for lifetime achievement and was inducted into the Pennsylvania Boxing Hall of Fame in 2005, as well as the New Jersey Boxing Hall of Fame in 2013. The New Orleans-born sports writer has worked in the industry since 1969 and pens a weekly column on the Sweet Science for Sherdog.com.