Joe Frazier could give and take punches

Joe Frazier was a little like Rocky Balboa. But only a little.

They both were from Philadelphia. They both could take 10 vicious punches in succession that seemingly would maim anyone for life, then summon up counterpunches that made their opponents wish they'd gone into a safer profession. Legend has it that Rocky's punching slabs of meet and running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art were things Frazier did in his training. I hope that's true.

But unlike Rocky, Smokin' Joe Frazier was real. He didn't have Rocky's charisma. He was just a tough guy, the quieter, sneering foil to the verbose, but equally tough Muhammad Ali. Frazier took Ali's taunts to heart. Yet, he was probably the only opponent Ali ever had who used Ali's insults to make himself more determined in the ring instead of being diverted by Ali's bluster.

The first of the three Ali-Frazier fights was in New York's Madison Square Garden in 1971 on a weeknight. I was in junior high. It seemed like every boy in my class was revved up for the fight for several days leading up to it. You were either for one guy or the other, and both sides talked junk to the other day after day. You had a lot riding on that fight, because if your guy lost, you were going to hear about it the next day and the rest of the week.

I was for Frazier. I have no idea why. If they had met when I was a college kid or a young adult, I'd have probably cheered for Ali. He said what he wanted, including "I ain't got no quarrel with them Viet Cong. No Viet Cong ever called me nigger." His refusal to serve in the U.S. Army got him stripped of his world heavyweight title and cost him almost four years of his career. Ali was the anti-establishment. Frazier, whether he liked it or not, represented conservatives.

The world was different then, friends. To follow the fight, you either watched on a closed-circuit telecast (I'm not sure it was available in Cedar Rapids) or listen to round-by-round updates from wire services that were read on the radio by disc jockeys. Trust me, it was high drama.

Title fights used to be set for 15 rounds, not 12, and this one went the distance. Ali got off to a great start in the early rounds with his jabs. Frazier then came on with his trademark left hooks. It was give and take for most of the bout, but Frazier used one of those left hooks to blast Ali late in the 11th round, and the tide had turned. Frazier knocked Ali down with a walloping hook in the final round. Ali's right jaw was a swollen mess, but he got up and finished the fight despite absorbing a flurry of Frazier's shots.

Frazier won by decision. It was Ali's first professional loss. Both men were hospitalized afterward because of the beatings they took. Ali won the rematch in 1974. They met again in 1975, the Thrilla in Manila. The fight was stopped after the 14th round by Frazier's trainer because of the beating Frazier had taken. His eyes were battered and swollen and he basically was fighting blind in the late rounds. What Frazier didn't know, according to Ali, is that Ali wasn't going to answer the bell for the final round.

Ali's career peaked that night. Frazier, who had lost his title to George Foreman in 1973 after getting knocked down six times, and lost by fifth-round TKO in a 1976 rematch.

Boxing has never been the same since the Thrilla in Manila, and that's no exaggeration. It hasn't been as popular, nor will it be again. Its time has passed.

There was only one Muhammad Ali. But Joe Frazier never gave in to him. Liver cancer felled him Monday night. Cancer didn't have the guts to take on Smokin' Joe when Frazier was in his prime.