Standing up for Smokin' Joe

AS YOU probably know, HBO has been running an excellent documentary on one of the greatest sporting events of all time: the Thrilla in Manila.

For younger readers exposed only to today's ring free-for-alls, or mixed martial arts, the Thrilla was a boxing match where men fought with skill and stamina, not by kicking, biting or scraping their opponents.

The documentary is at once a history lesson and another example of what society has lost as the great sport of boxing has collapsed under a legion of ruinous deals and given way to glorified bar brawls in cages.

Though I had a vague understanding of the concept of top-notch boxing, mostly in the lower weight classes, from the early '80s when there were still some great fights, I had no frame of reference for the titanic bouts fought between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier.

As impressive as the action in the ring is for even the most casual observer, watching the documentary and the experience outside the ring surrounding these fights should force a re-examination of the history of both of these fighters - and for all of us in Philadelphia to extend a greater appreciation of our adopted son Joseph William Frazier.

We all know the story. In the late 1960s, Muhammad Ali took a stand against the Vietnam War and spotlighted the inequality of the times. At the time, he was the reigning heavyweight champion and was jailed for refusing to be inducted into the military after he was drafted.

HE WAS jailed and had to give up his title, which opened the door for a man from the hardscrabble streets of North Philadelphia. With a vicious left hook and a determination earned from days working in the fields of his native Jim Crow South Carolina, Frazier plowed his way through contenders and became our city's first heavyweight champion of the world - the baddest dude on the planet.

Eventually, Ali got a chance to come back, setting in motion the greatest battles in boxing history.

I admire Ali's activism and his skill in the ring, but what I can never admire is his demeaning treatment of Frazier. Whether done to hype his fights, make some money or just clown around, the insults were beyond decency.

Like many bigmouths, Ali sometimes wrote checks with his words that his body couldn't cash, and Frazier almost took his head off in the last round of the first bout in their historic trilogy.

In a continuing effort to detract from Frazier's accomplishments, some Ali defenders pointed to Frazier's backing of President Nixon or some other irrelevant reasons to buttress their out-of-control racial insults.

But they also forget how Ali approached Frazier to ask that very same president to help Ali get his boxing license restored or that Frazier provided financial support to Ali when he was out of boxing.

Ali beat Smokin' Joe two more times and is remembered as "the Greatest," but after watching the Thrilla in Manila again, I wish Frazier's eyes had opened just a bit more so he could have answered the bell in that last round. Then, I bet, we'd have a more lively debate about that "greatest" designation.

Ali's most hurtful words weren't of the sticks-and-stones, brush-it-off-your back variety. His status in the black community was able to sway people of his own race away from Frazier, not because of his talent, but because of some bizarre fight-promotion tactic done for money.

And I don't know if Ali can ever say sorry enough to Frazier for these actions. Judging from the depiction in the HBO documentary, I don't believe Frazier has completely forgiven him.

That forgiveness is a private matter between the two men who shared the ring for over two hours of pugilistic perfection. But private matters aside, we in the public are capable helping younger generations, and even those who remember the great fights of the past, cast Frazier in a proper light.

Frazier shone the spotlight on Philadelphia, lent his time and energy to countless charities, including the Police Athletic League, inspired tens of thousands in his community and continues to mentor budding fighters to this day. Before the Flyers, Sixers and Phils won, he made us a City of Champions.

This poisoning of the reputation of Frazier, an undeserved stain for which the Frazier family had to suffer for too long, needs to be erased in the public consciousness. Philadelphia can go a long way to making up for this and show younger generations the lessons taught by Frazier's life, namely that hard work and determination pay off. In a city that honors Rocky, a fictitious fighter, with a prominent statue, we should honor our real heavyweight champion of the world, a man who through no fault of his own was never appreciated the way he should have been.

Two easy tributes come to mind. As we get set to renovate the Dell East in Fairmount Park, it should be named in his honor. Or, can you believe we don't have a Joe Frazier Rec Center in this city? Pick one of the hundreds and rename it, immediately. These are only two ideas that I'm sure others can improve on.

With the slings and arrows suffered by Joe the champ, it's time the city steps up and gives him the respect he deserved then - and deserves now. *

A.J. Thomson learned respect for the jab from his dad. Reach him at ajthomson7@gmail.com.