COMMENTARY : Leonard’s Fate Seemed to Be Preordained

One might look at the scoring of the judges, see that one fighter lost nearly every round and conclude there was no immediate redeeming quality in the match. Wrong.

It was as if the night was preordained, a fitting and deserved ending to the ring career of Ray Leonard.

Sugar Ray, a once-upon-a-time genuine American hero, went out as he should have, battling heroically.

Many thought it was sad, Leonard falling behind early, getting knocked down a couple of times and never having much of a chance after the 12-rounder with World Boxing Council superwelterweight champion Terry Norris reached its mid-point. Faulty interpretation.

“I don’t want anybody to feel sorry for me,” said Ray. “As soon as I got into the ring I sensed it wasn’t there. But it (decline) is something I had to experience for myself. Now I feel good about moving on.”

Yes, for the (fill in the blank) time, Sugar Ray Leonard has retired. Having witnessed maybe a half a dozen of these occasions, though, I’m sure he means it this time. There are no more false gods before him, be they mountains of money, the spotlight or constructed for the occasion titles.

The Sugarman appeared almost serene after Norris, hugely talented while almost totally unknown, toyed with him, the decision was announced, Leonard announced from the ring he was finished and “Terrible Terry” had had his say.

“I couldn’t contend with his talent,” said the man whose final record will read 36-2-1. “But don’t put it on me that I lost my talent. He’s a terrific fighter. I wanted to be very impressive when I called it quits, but Norris saw to it it wouldn’t be that way.”

He was impressive, never once calling off the search for something he hoped might work against this Texas whirlwind. Besides, if he had won or come very close, Sugar Ray would have gone on and on and on, a lousy alternative.

Two of the three judges likened the competition to tiny Cumberland College taking on Georgia Tech in intercollegiate football years ago. That one ended 222-0. One scored it 120-104, meaning Norris won every round and rung up a 10-8 advantage in four of the rounds. Another said 119-103, the third 116-110.

Leonard was apprised of the tallies and was asked if the fight seemed that lopsided to him. He thought a moment, put ego aside and said, “Yeah. All I wanted to do is finish on my feet when it got out of hand.”

It took a heap of doing. Probably not since winning the first of his five titles, against Wilfred Benitez in Las Vegas, Nev., in November 1979, had Ray been in the ring with a opponent so fast and quick, who combines good power with a variety of punches, excellent defense and ultra conditioning.

To be sure, if Leonard’s famed foes, Tommy Hearns, Roberto Duran and Marvin Hagler, fought Norris in their heyday, they’d probably win. But the kid would be right there if he approximated the effort he put out against Sugar Ray.

“He showed me everything I used to show guys in the past,” Leonard said, shunning false modesty. “He’s not only talented, he’s classy. Terry’s a very composed young man and that surprised me.”

It came either in the eighth or ninth round, Norris doesn’t remember which, when Leonard clinched after a stiff right to the chin and gasped to the victor, “It’s your day, pal.” Class. Can you imagine Hagler saying such a thing?

“The outcome was a little sad for me since Ray was, is my idol,” said Norris. “I expected him to be faster. I was able to capitalize on all the mistakes Ray made. We talked a little during the fight and once I said, ‘Come on, Ray,’ but he couldn’t keep up.”

Leonard’s storied Madison Square Garden debut became his swan song in an hour’s time and one wondered if an opening night closedown of a show on Broadway up the street a few blocks and over was ever so rapid.

“This fight was symbolic for me,” said Sugar Ray. “It (the impressive performance by Norris) represented something I always felt I had (ring generalship). It’s no longer there.”

Someone prompted, “Like 10 years ago?” Leonard shot back, “Like five years ago.”

Pride. He walked out of the room with it piled high on both shoulders. “I feel good about moving on,” he said again and there wasn’t a non-believer in the place.