TKOs and Timbales: The Intersection of Boxing & Music

Featuring filmmaker Leon Gast and his Oscar-winning film, When We Were Kings and a concert by Orlando Marín

Sep 20, 2014 @ 1:00pm

Orlando Marín y su Orquesta; panel discussion with boxer and club owner Carlos Ortiz, Academy-Award filmmaker Leon Gast, rock critic Dave Marsh, and scholar Christina Abreu; Golden Gloves boxing demo, screenings of When We Were Kings with director Leon Gast and The Champion’s Trek: The Untold Story of Sugar Ramos with filmmaker Elio Bernardo-Ruíz

Even before the 1976 film, Rocky, participants in the “sweet science” were inextricably involved in the musical world, either as performers or as topics in songs. In 1920, Jack Johnson, the first African-American heavyweight boxing champion, opened the Club Deluxe at 142nd Street and Lenox Avenue in Harlem. In 1922 the club was taken over by gangster and bootlegger, Owney Madden, and was rechristened as the Cotton Club. Johnson stayed on as the club’s manager. Duke Ellington‘s band had the club’s most celebrated residency and Cab Calloway would lead the band there (though the club was moved downtown after the Harlem Riots in 1935 to ensure the safety of its all-White clientele). Boxers involved with nightclubs also have a track record in the Bronx. In the 1940s, the Tropicana nightclub, modeled after the Havana venue of the same name, opened on Westchester Avenue. The owners, Cuban brothers Manny and Tony Alfaro, also managed boxers (including Benny “The Kid” Paret) and it was common to see boxers such as Cuban welterweight champion Kid Gavilán mingle with musicians and dancers there. In the 1960s, lightweight and junior welterweight champion, Carlos Or- tíz, from Ponce, Puerto Rico, opened the Tropicoro club on Long- wood Avenue in the Bronx, which hosted the hottest bands of the era from Eddie Palmieri to Pete Rodríguez.
However, it is the singer-songwriters who have really embraced the stories of boxing’s tragedies and tragic heroes with songs from genres that cross jazz, rock, folk and hip hop. Every- one is probably familiar with Bob Dylan’s song. “Hurricane” (1975), about Ruben Carter and how he was unjustly imprisoned; but Bob Dylan and Phil Ochs both wrote songs in 1963 about boxer Davey Moore who died following a fight with Sugar Ramos. The year before, on March 24th, 1962, Benny Paret had died from a fight with Emile Griffith at Madison Square Garden. This tragedy was chronicled in the song, “Benny ‘The Kid’ Paret,” by folksinger Gil Turner and published in Broadside magazine in 1962 and recorded the next year. Boxer Sonny Liston was known for being very tough, yet parts of his life were an enigma and he died under mysterious circumstances. There are many songs about him or that reference him by musicians as varied as Mark Knopfler, Wu-Tang Clan, the Roots, and Billy Joel among many others. In 1982 Irish boxer, Barry McGuigan is remembered for putting the Nigerian boxer, Young Ali in a coma from which he never recovered. He is remembered in a song by The Worry Dolls, “Barry McGuigan.” Korean boxer Kim Duk-Doo died follow- ing a boxing match with Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini in 1982. Alternative rock band Sun Kil recorded a song dedicated to Kim in 2003. Duk Koo Kim and Ray Mancini are both mentioned in the song “Boom Boom Mancini” by Warren Zevon (1987).
Then there were the boxers who wanted to sing. Not that long ago Oscar de la Hoya was nominated for a Latin Grammy for his album, but there was a precedent to this. There is the 1963 album, I Am the Greatest! by Muhammad Ali with backing vocals by friend and fan, Sam Cooke. It was largely a novelty album, primarily consisting of Ali’s brilliant spoken word braggadocio, but it also features his early attempts at a singing career. When Muhammad Ali was banned from boxing for over three years and stripped of his heavyweight title in 1967 after refusing the draft, he began a lecture tour to pay the bills. During this time he took part in the Broadway musical, Buck White. It was based on Joseph Dolan Tuotti’s play Big Time Buck White, about a militant Black Power leader who invigorates and focuses a group of radical black activists. It only ran for seven performances. Panamanian boxer Roberto Durán also tried his hand at salsa, but failed miserably (purportedly a new biopic is in production about his life and salsero Rubén Blades will star as his agent).
What does this all mean? We’ll explore this history and more today with our panelists and filmmakers.
When We Were Kings (1997)
This much-praised documentary about one of the most famous boxing matches in history deserves every one of its accolades. Blending sports drama and biography with a touch of political analysis, When We Were Kings relates the who, when, where, and most importantly the why of the 1974 George Foreman/ Muhammad Ali world championship fight in Zaire. Splicing together old news footage, photos, and contemporary interview clips, director Leon Gast captures the excitement and chaos that led up to the famed “Rumble in the Jungle” and the incredible characters and events surrounding the thrilling bout. Into the capital of Kinshasa flew planeloads of performers for an “African Woodstock,” TV crews, an international contingent of sports journalists, celebrity fight groupies like Norman Mailer and George Plimpton, and of course the two principals: Ali, then still controversial because of his decision to be a conscientious objector, and Foreman. The documentary explores a gamut of issues that defined the 1970s and impacted the African-American community: the Vietnam War and the draft, the nascent “Black is Beautiful” movement and idealization of Mother Africa, and the brutal reality of post-colonial dictatorships.
The Champion’s Trek: Sugar Ramos (in-progress)
The match that made Sugar Ramos famous in the United States occurred at LA’s Dodger Stadium against Davey Moore, on March 21, 1963. After the fight, having given an interview promising to recover the title, Moore collapsed in the dressing room. He fell into a coma and died days later of brain injuries. Devastated by the news about the severity of Moore’s condition, the new champion went to Los Angeles Memorial Hospital to visit his ex-rival. He arrived just in time to witness the courageous fighter’s last breath. Ramos was so overcome with grief that he cried as if he had lost one of his own brothers. The victim’s mother consoled and encouraged him to continue his boxing career with honor. When the press asked Ramos how he felt, he said: “I want to be Champion of the World, but not at this price.”