Joe Frazier

Frazier was serious and determined. Ali was in a world of his own creation, basking in the joy of being Muhammad Ali. Nothing could illustrate this more clearly than a reception held at Malacanang Palace by President Ferdinand Marcos and his wife Imelda, she of the many mukluks.
If Cassius Clay had excelled as a baseball player instead of as a pro boxer he'd probably have charmed us with his poetry
It hasn't all been bad; in fact, we've had some great runs. I was a teen when the Broad Street Bullies won two Stanley Cups in a row and were the only NHL team to beat the Soviet Union.
The fight between Mayweather and Pacquiao has been hyped as the "Fight of the Century," and it is the largest purse ever offered, but it can't compare to the clash between the two undefeated champions who stepped into the ring at a time of tremendous turmoil in 1971.
Of those who do know of Frazier's connection to the character, only a small subset is familiar with the more intimate details of his life and career not depicted on camera.
Despite the fact that the promoter Al Haymon is bringing boxing back to primetime TV, boxing has become a moribund sport.
In the over 90 years since William Jennings Bryan's death, we have seen scores of major atrocities played out with the theory of "survival of the fittest" as a motivating factor. We are also seeing it at every level of business and society.
A discount furniture store now occupies the space where boxing legend, Joe Frazier trained in Philadelphia. The home of America's first female self-made millionaire, Madame C.J. Walker is left vulnerable to potential destruction without proper legal protection.
Childhood heroes never die though. They last forever. And for me and The Reaper... Muhammad Ali, nee Cassius Clay in Louisville, Kentucky... will always and forever be... the one and only.... eternally... "The Greatest."
The outcome of the 2012 presidential was not a fait accompli, as many are now arguing -- not by a long shot. This election could have gone either way. Anyone who thinks the Obama victory was inevitable or predetermined is in a worse state of denial than the hucksters at Fox News.
Only in the past week, instead of staring down and psyching out their opponents, as boxers usually do at weigh-ins and press conferences, these two politicians, and their surrogates, have so effusively praised the other guy to the point of it being more over-the-top than a Lady Gaga concert.
I want to tell you about an unsung suburban unaware-of-feminism-whatsoever Pennsylvanian housewife, mother of four, who in the embryonic days of the women's movement, in one fluke moment, became a frickin' bona fide boxing judge!
2011 was a monumental year in a lot of ways. Sadly, we lost many amazing minds and talents along the way. Here's a round
Monday's Philadelphia funeral for former heavyweight boxing champ Joe Frazier brought some old but still very salient issues back to the fore. Frazier's sudden death from liver cancer has reminded many of some uncomfortable truths.
Commentary from the blogosphere you may have missed this week.
The surprise death of former world heavyweight champ Joe Frazier reminds of the man's elemental greatness, and of the deep pitfalls of high-contact sport.
Like the rich, successful actors who play the broken-down Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman, our sports performers act as our avatars and our archetypes, on and off the court, field and ice. Truth sometimes flows through them and sometimes it is a hard truth worth learning.