OKLAHOMA CITY, November 7, 2011—Former heavyweight champion “Smokin’” Joe Frazier died Monday from liver cancer. The man that gave Muhammad Ali his first loss was in hospice care and was 67 years old.
He was no doubt one of the greatest fighters of all time, whose career was always in Ali’s shadow.
To promote the three epic fights between the two heavyweights, Ali would berate Frazier calling him ugly and dumb. Ali’s personality was so big it seamed that Frazier was the opposite. People assumed Frazier was quiet and wasn’t as personable.
I got to spend some time with Frazier and those "people" could not have been more wrong.
Working in Minor League Baseball, one of the aspects of the job is to get people to buy tickets to a game in which they may not know any of the players. One way to fill the seats is to have celebrities make appearances. There is a trick to it. Either get middling stars at a value with a following, or get home runs that old white guys have always dreamed of meeting, for a little more of a budget.
Frazier was the latter.
I picked Mr. Frazier up along with his two managers. He had had back surgery from a car wreck he had been in so he used a cane sometimes or a wheelchair when available. It was a little odd to see the man that knocked Muhammed Ali down move so gingerly.
I reached my hand out to introduce myself, and I thought my hand was going to break in his grip. He might not have been able to get around as easily as he used to, but he was strong.
“Hello Mr. Frazier,” I said.
“Don’t call me Mr. Frazier,” he said. “Call me Smokin’.”
I felt odd calling him Smokin’ so I called him what everybody else called him: Champ.
The Champ couldn’t have been nicer or funnier. “Who let the dogs out!” He would yell to no one in particular.
It’s rare to see baseball players get starstruck. They are athletes on the way up in the Minor Leagues and some have already been to the show. As I took Mr. Frazier through the tunnel to bring him up for the first pitch, the players came out of the dugout to get his autograph and shake his hand.
Before the first pitch he told me to warm him up. So I played catch with Joe Frazier.
Joe Frazier shadowboxes for the crowd after throwing out the first pitch in Oklahoma City. (Mark Pritchard)
After he threw the pitch, he came off the mound shadowboxing. The audience roared. He knew how to work a crowd.
Frazier couldn’t have been nicer to the fans, staying longer than he was scheduled for to accommodate as many as he could, taking pictures, signing gloves and putting a smile on everybody’s face that he came into contact with.
He wasn’t dumb or slow at all. He was a showman and a gentleman.
I drove him and his associates around that night, made sure they got the appropriate meals and just tried my best to make them feel welcome.
I had one request. I have a picture of Ali vs. Frazier III, and I wanted it signed. Frazier signed it in the backseat and left it back there for me for later.
The whole night he kept giving his managers a hard time about not getting what he wanted or jokingly asking them what other appearances they had him scheduled for.
As he got out of the car I put my hand out out, he grabbed it and pulled me in close. He was so strong. He pulled me down to where he could talk in my ear. “Next time...you’re in charge...” he said.
I smiled the whole way home. When I got out of the car I found the Ali/Frazier picture he had signed for me.
“To Jason: Right on. Joe Frazier”
There would be no next time for me to be in charge. But that’s OK, I have so many stories from a few hours with Smokin’. He was funny, sharp and very personable.
Right on, Champ.
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