His entire life he had made his own decisions. Now, in the most important fight of his life, Joe Hipp had left the strategy to others?
Heavyweight contender Joe Hipp relaxed in the dressing room, stretched out on a table and tried to gather his thoughts. Trouble was, he had no thoughts to gather. He was fighting Bruce Seldon for the World Heavyweight Championship and as much as he tried to get up for the fight, certainly a special contest and one that few fighters ever get, he could not think of it as more than just another fight, another day at the office. He did not feel that way in the beginning when he first received the news. He was all grins, the thrills of fighting for the championship running up and down his spine. As the fight became closer the thrills faded. Fighting was a job, his job, and one he enjoyed. The pay was decent but a fighter took the same beating and gave the same beating regardless of what he was paid. A man could be damaged or killed in a $400 fight as well as a million dollar fight. One minute he is fine and sharp and alert and in top physical shape, and the next minute he is crippled, bent over with cracked bones, confined to a wheelchair, or a complete vegetable talking to the flies on the street with snot running from his nose and mixing with drool dripping off his chin. Hipp had the usual jitters, but nothing exceptional.
As a young man Hipp dreamed of attaining three things: marrying a Native American, (Barbra) having twins, (Vanessa, Sophia, and as a bonus added son Zack and a step-daughter, Tina) and fighting for, not necessarily winning, the world championship. This fight completed his dream. Fighting for a championship proved he was among the elite in the fight game, one of the minute percentage of tens of thousands of fighters around the world. He was one of the ten best warriors in the world, and a warrior was just how he felt: Joe Hipp, Joe ?The Boss? Hipp, Blackfeet Indian Warrior, rated 4th in the world. Sean O?Grady claimed he was the best heavyweight in the division. Yet still, he felt nothing, thought of nothing, just lay there relaxing and concentrating on the ceiling.
He might have thought his training program had been lax, something that would have been his own fault. But that was not true. He had never trained harder for a fight. His love affair with alcohol often consumed him, as it did during training for the fight. Bear, training him on the Quinault Indian Reservation, in Washington, had done his best to keep him in the gym and working hard. But Hipp was unpredictable and slippery. Every chance he had he slipped out to make love to the bottle. Roland Jankelson, his manager, should not have let Hipp borrow his car the day before a television crew was to appear for an interview. Hipp took the car and disappeared. Bear spent the night looking for him. The television crew had already arrived when Bear finally found him the following morning, drunk and hung over. That never got in the way of training and Joe did not see it as a factor now. He might have been winning in the ring, but he was rapidly losing to alcoholism.
Had Hipp thought of anything in the dressing room it might have been whether he had taken too much alcohol or too little. He often entered the ring tipsy. He had reasonably fast hands for a big man and the beer did little to slow them down. He had decent stamina, average footwork for a man who often wore a brace because of a bad knee, and better than average power. ?I was never a great fighter but I was a tough fighter.? What brought him to the top of the division were guts, determination, and heart. No one carried more fortitude and grit than Joe. As a southpaw his punches often came from strange angles. If he put a man in trouble he was on him quickly. The kindest most affable man in boxing had an inborn killer instinct. Drink did not soften the blows he suffered because he claimed he never felt the punches anyway, not even the ones that swelled his face or cut him up. Hipp suffered poor skin for a boxer, easily torn and only a few blows puffed his face like a muffin. Even when winning a fight he looked like he had wandered through a hornet?s nest, his eyes barely showing through the swollen slits.
What bothered Hipp was the strategy his corner had devised. They wanted him to stretch out the fight, take Seldon into the later rounds. Seldon wore out quickly, and seldom had any stamina. Hipp was not that kind of fighter. With him fighting was all or nothing. He felt the fight plan was all wrong. ?Let us do the thinking,? they had told him. ?That?s why you?re paying us.?
His entire life he had made his own decisions. Now, in the most important fight of his life, he had left the strategy to others.
Hipp enjoyed the quiet in the dressing room. He was by nature a silent man and not given to the limelight. People made him uncomfortable, especially before a fight. He was not used to the publicity of a title fight where reporters and television crews constantly deluged him. He had difficulty finding things to say. Reporters wanted derogatory comments, something nasty said against Seldon, something to make the fight a grudge match, something to personalize the bout. Hip refused to play the game. He had nothing against Seldon, had nothing against anyone he fought. Fighting was his business but he was reluctant to increase sales by engaging in dishonest talk. He even refused to get angry with reporters who said he did not look like a fighter. Hip said, ?Many boxers and critics say I don?t look like a fighter. They never say that after a fight.?
Hipp heard a knock at the door. He had left instructions not to be disturbed. If someone was knocking it must be important. He rose from the table and answered the door. There stood Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee. Hipp stared, unable to say anything.
?We wanted to wish you good luck,? said Anderson.
Anderson understood hard times. Few people knew that she had been sexually abused as a child: molested for 4 years starting at the age of 6 by her female babysitter, raped at the age of 12 by a 25-year-old man, and gang raped by her boyfriend and his 6 friends at the age of 14.
Hipp continued to stand dumfounded and mute, a grin on his usually stoic face.
?Yeah,? said Tommy Lee. Apparently Lee was not much of a talker.
?Anyway,? said Anderson. ?We know you will do a good job. I have seen you fight before. You are a tough man.?
She grabbed Hipp?s hand and kissed him on the cheek.
?Yeah,? said Tommy Lee, again.
?You are very kind,? said Hipp, finally breaking through his silence and proud his vocabulary was larger than Tommy Lee?s.
He watched them walk down the hall. When he returned to the table he had plenty to think about. Imagine, Joe Hipp, an Indian from the Blackfeet Reservation in Browning, Montana, being known and visited by celebrities. Boxing brought great rewards, often in strange places.
Guests filled 17,000 seats at the MGM Grand Garden as Hipp entered under a spotlight, his long headdress flowing behind, the feathers glowing under the light. Trainer Tony Perez; assistant trainer Pete Roybal, short, thin, about the size of Hipps thigh; cut man Mario Mucius; and manager Roland Jankelson, always in the shadows, an extremely fit man who often worked out with Hipp. Hipped walked behind. The ring was covered in blue canvas and sported a Corona Extra advertisement. Seldon stretched in his corner, his body like cut steel in contrast to Joe?s fleshy appearance, a body more like a beer barrel in the style of Two Ton Tony Galento than that of a boxer. Galento had racked up 80 wins with 57 knockouts in his career and upset the rise of Lou Nova in possibly the dirtiest fight in history, then staggered Joe Louis in the 1st round of their fight before putting him down in the 3rd, but eventually losing the fight. Trainer Diego Rosario felt Seldon?s gloves and cut man Al Gavin spread a thin layer of Vaseline across his face. Jimmy Lennon Jr., a tall, dignified, announcer with a clear, articulate voice, made the introductions.
Hipp glanced through the crowd as his Indian headdress was removed. Among the celebrities were Jerry Seinfeld, Eddie Murphy, Shaq O?Neil, Madonna, Bruce Willis, Denzel Washington, Tom Jones, Will Smith, Jim Carrey, Kelsey Grammer, Tim Allen, Pamela Anderson, and Tommy Lee. They were not there to see Hipp and Seldon but to watch Mike Tyson in his return to the ring after being released from prison and fight unknown Peter McNeeley. Referee Richard Steele called the men together. The fight was on.
Both men met in the center of the ring, Seldon compact, rugged with a sharp left jab, Hipp in an awkward southpaw stance. Seldon used his left to keep Hipp away. In the pre-fight interview Hipp had said, ?I?m easy to fight. I don?t run.? Seldon said, ?My left will be working overtime.? They were both right. The round was slow, each man feeling out the other. Hipp?s face was already swelling up and threatening to break out in cuts.
As the fight continued Hipp attempted to stay in the center of the ring where he could do the most damage. He did most of the movement and continually pushed Seldon backwards. He was relaxed and doing his job but his face continued to swell. Every punch Seldon landed caused new lumps on Hipp?s face. Hipp could not avoid Seldon?s left jab. The commentators said, ?Hipp, in one word, is a survivor, and he is doing the moving.?
Hipp was doing the moving. He was not convinced that was the correct strategy. He had always come ahead from the opening bell giving everything he had. Laying back seemed ridiculous to him. What did his corner know that he did not understand?
Seldon started boxing better in the next round and his left jab remained his best weapon. Hipp threw single shots. He missed too often. He could have doubled up, but did not. His face continued to swell. Finally, near the end of the round, he attacked, throwing combinations that started to land. He sauntered back to his corner. He needed to fight the way he always fought.
His trainer admonished him. ?Don?t forget the plan. We want to carry him into the later rounds. String him along, wear him out.?
In round 4 Hipp caught Seldon as he rushed in, then attacked to the body. Seldon was staggered. He held on to avoid more damage. Hipp nailed him with a left. Seldon spun completely around to get away. Referee Steele pulled him aside and issued a caution.
Hipp?s corner yelled for him to settle down. Hipp was confused. Why not just take Seldon out, or at least attempt to take him out?
As the fight continued even the commentators noticed that Hipp was not himself. ?Joe doesn?t fire back. When Hipp goes to the head he doesn?t continue.?
Hipp had never fought this way before. His corner had been paid good money for their advice. The chance to fight for the heavyweight title seldom comes along. He did not know if he should forget their advice and fight like he knew how, or not.
A Seldon right hand opened a nasty cut below Hipp?s left eye. The blood started to pour. The cut went all the way to the bone.
Hipp was now too tired and beat up to launch an attack.
By round 10, with Hipp?s face like ground beef, referee Richard Steele had finally seen enough and stopped the fight by TKO at 1:47.
Hipp took the loss in stride and walked away with his dignity intact. He refused to let his cornermen into the dressing room. He sat on the dressing table, pondering what had gone wrong. Sometimes a man must think for himself.
