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“All That Glitters…….”: Ken Norton Vs Duane Bobick

Were you shocked by Norton's dismantling of Bobick in one round?

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Norton-Bobick_150585929By Kevin “The Voice” Kincade

“All that glitters is not gold”. By the time old Willie Shakespeare penned those words in 1596 in “The Merchant of Venice” that particular snippet of wisdom had already been around for at least 300 years in print; and it is as true today as that first moment when someone realized not all shiny things are valuable and decided to voice their opinion on the subject. Whether you’re some poor soul who thought you were going to make a mint on Grandpa’s weird collectibles, only to find you would have made more money selling your inheritance for salvage or you picked up a piece of pyrite from a brook and tried to cash in, only to find out why they call it “fool’s gold”, it’s all the same.

And for those in the boxing business, “Heavyweight Gold” is the hardest to come by and, in many ways, hurts more when you find out you’ve been fooled. 1977 was an exciting year. A peanut farmer from Georgia had just taken office as the new President of the United States, “Roots” was awakening a whole generation of Americans to the personal tragedies of an inglorious past, Muhammad Ali’s bio-doc, “The Greatest” hit theaters, and another boxing film, “Rocky,” written by an out of work actor and fight fan, who played the leading role, won an Oscar. Virtually every boy in America was jogging and shadow boxing, imagining himself running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art or knocking out George Foreman to the chants of “Ali Bombaye!!!” all to the tunes of a cool soundtrack. Boxing fantasy had merged with boxing reality.

Enter Duane Bobick….

Duane had been an outstanding amateur fighter and was the perfect image of what you would want in a heavyweight. He was good looking, stood at a strong and ready 6’ 3”, usually came in at a well-proportioned 215 or so lbs.; and, let’s not beat around the bush, he was White.

Whether we want to admit it or not, whether we like it or not, race and heritage have always played a role in the sport of boxing. Boxing, at the end of the day, is one man (or woman) against another. Color doesn’t matter. Ethnicity doesn’t matter. Heritage doesn’t matter. Once that bell rings, it’s you and the other guy. No one’s going to help you. It’s your skill, your ability, your intelligence, your heart, against his. That’s it.

However, the history of the sport is similar to the history of any sport when it comes to fans. At the end of the day, the fans of any team, any fighter, are fans because they associate with either that team or that fighter. The reasons for that association are quite often geographic in nature. In baseball, you root for the home team; they’re “your team”, so to speak, even if, like most of your fellow fanatics, you never played on that team. They are the team representing your school, your city, your state, your home. You identify with them. So it is in boxing.

Virgil Hill in the 1990’s could have been elected governor of North Dakota. Why? He was that state’s sports franchise. North Dakotans identified with Virgil Hill. Going further back in time, before television, in the days when there seemed to be a boxing club on every street corner in bigger cities, fans identified with hometown fighters, just as North Dakotans identified with Virgil Hill. In the 1920’s, 30’s, and 40’s especially, boroughs were usually populated based on ethnicity and local fights were promoted as such. You’d have an Irish fighter against an Italian fighter, a Black fighter against a Jew, a Puerto Rican against a Mexican and the list goes on and on.

Why? Well, it put butts in seats, of course; and still does to this day where casual fans are concerned. All Harlem would break out into a bedlam of celebration after a Joe Louis fight. Joe Louis was the Black Superman before he became America’s hero when he stopped Max Schmeling in just over 2 minutes. Rocky Marciano was very popular with Italians Americans and Blue Collar workers because of his heritage and his in-ring work ethic. He was a little guy who had to work harder to win because he wasn’t as fast or graceful as many of his contemporaries. Joe Frazier was the favorite of the blue collar crowd when he fought Ali the first time. Why?

The same reason Ali was the favorite of the Black Power movement and the mostly collegiate Anti-War contingent. They identified with him or something about him. It’s not always about race and heritage; but that is and always will be part of it for the casual fan. Even hardened, true-blue fight fans want to find a champion, someone whom to live vicariously through; a hero, even if the fighter is just fighting for themselves as virtually all of them are. Today, boxing is more of a fringe sport and the fans are tried and true and like this fighter or that fighter for style, personality, and various other reasons; but still will usually favor one over another when nationality comes into play, based on, guess what: nationality. In 1977, boxing was more of a mainstream sport than now because Ali and “Rocky” brought in “new fans”; and with casual fans, identification with the fighter is much more important. So, it should be no surprise that Duane Bobick, like Jerry Quarry before him, attracted so much attention from fans of the Caucasian persuasion and the dreadful moniker, “The Great White Hope.”

And he was good. Bobick was no manufactured heavyweight. He came from a boxing family and spent long hours in the gym from an early age. He’d won the Gold Medal at the 1971 Pan American games over none other than legendary Cuban Heavyweight Teofilo Stevenson. He won the National AAU Heavyweight Championship in 1971 as well, and was the 1972 National Golden Gloves Champion; and he could punch.

Joe Frazier, himself, took Bobick under his wing when he turned pro in ‘73, managing and training him, until he turned over the training aspect to Eddie Futch. Bobick won his first 19 bouts by knockout. He entered into the Top 10 in 1975 and kept improving with every outing. He even had a tentative contract to face Ali for the Championship in 1976, which never materialized. Still, he kept winning against better and better opposition. He racked up wins over slick Larry Middleton, tough fellow Minnesotan Scott LeDoux, European Title Challenger Bunny Johnson, and capped off the year with a brawl over Chuck Wepner. At 38-0 and ranked 4th in the world at the start of 1977, Duane Bobick was on his way.

On May 11th, 1977, five days before Muhammad Ali’s return to the ring against Alfredo Evangilista, Duane climbed through the ropes at fabled Madison Square Garden for his biggest test to date against # 1 Ranked Ken Norton. It was to be his “coming out party’, as it were. The stage was set for great things for the 27 year old rising star. A win would guarantee him a title shot and even an impressive showing in a loss against Norton would put him in line for the big money and future lucrative bouts. He had been moved perfectly into position by Joe Frazier Incorporated. All he had to do now was deliver.

The World was ready for another upset. Jimmy Young had already knocked George Foreman out of position two months prior in Puerto Rico and Earnie Shavers had exploded into the rankings with his 2nd round blowout over Howard Smith not a month before. Norton was listed at 32 years old; but boxing insiders knew that tally was two years off. Bobick had a seven year age advantage and the herculean physiqued Norton was well known by his camp. In his knockout losses to Foreman and Garcia, he’d shown a tactical weakness to aggressive punchers, which fit Bobick to a tee. While Norton was the decided favorite, based on his recent performances against much better competition, notably his highly controversial loss to Ali in his last fight, one couldn’t escape the air of a potential upset in the making.

In hindsight, it’s easy to see the key factors which were missed. The fact that Duane had proven himself to be a slow starter escaped many; but more important was the glaring weakness in his game which hadn’t been exposed since his amateur days. While he had defeated Teofilo Stevenson in the 1971 Pan Am Games, he had fallen via knockout to Stevenson in the Olympics the following year in Round 3, a victim to the same punch a young Ron Lyle had caught him with in Round 1: an overhand right.

Ken Norton was known for his left hook. He didn’t have a particularly good straight right hand. He was very good at jabbing his way in close and working the body and then launching this awkward looking, baseball-pitch-like overhand right, which had caught Ali several times in their three bouts, possibly breaking his jaw in bout 1; but Norton wasn’t known for being a puncher. Most of his wins came through a battle of attrition with his superior conditioning telling the tale.

Also, the Bobick camp played up the fact that trainer Eddie Futch had once worked the Norton corner, guided him in his lone victory over Muhammad Ali, and knew all of Kenny’s weaknesses before Bill Slayton took over. Boxing, it has been said, is 90% mental; and Team Bobick was attempting to play the presumed psychological edge over the 37-4 Norton for all that it was worth. Bobick was younger, had the right style, and had Norton’s molder whispering in his ear. A Bobick win over Norton was as good as gold.

Joe Louis once said, “Everybody has a plan until they get hit,” which Mike Tyson, in later years, refined into “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

So it was with Duane Bobick roughly 20 seconds into Round 1 on the night of May 11th, 1977. In 58 seconds, Heavyweight Gold turned into Heavyweight Pyrite before a packed house at Madison Square Garden as Ken Norton affirmed that, even at age 34, he was still the real deal and the dreams of Eddie Futch and Joe Frazier this evening were only worth 215 ½ lbs. of Fool’s Gold, as Duane Bobick and all of his Camp had to go back to the drawing board for another day.

This is not to say Bobick was a fool or even a bad fighter. It is merely to say not all can be “great” or live up to their billings by those who place their hopes and dreams on “what could be”. Or, as John Dryden so eloquently penned in his 1687 poem, “The Hind and the Panther,”

“For you may palm upon us new for old: All, as they say, that glitters, is not gold.”

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