Sugar Ray Leonard and Clinton McKenzie interview

In 1976, Sugar Ray Leonard fought Clinton McKenzie at the Montreal Olympics… Sportsmail brought them back together

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UPDATED:

21:30 GMT, 30 May 2012

They greeted each other like long-lost brothers and, to the intents and purposes of proper sportsmen who challenged each other to mortal combat in the prime of youth and lived to re-tell the tale, so they are. Brothers at arms.

Sugar Ray Leonard, the baby-faced darling of American boxing, and Clinton McKenzie, a grizzled but treasured memento of the British ring, recognised each other instantly.

Scroll down to watch a video of Sugar Ray Leonard v Clinton McKenzie

Good to see you! Clinton McKenzie and Sugar Ray Leonard meet up agaiin

Good to see you! Clinton McKenzie and Sugar Ray Leonard meet up agaiin

The sunlit, pastoral calm gracing the
veranda of a golf clubhouse in Southern California is light years from
the rattling tin shed in Canada within which their first, violent
embrace was cheered to the iron rafters. Thirty-six years to be exact.

‘Hey, buddy,’ said Leonard.

‘What’s up, man’ said McKenzie.

They hugged again. For the first time since Jimmy Carter was elected President, since we all kidded ourselves Donna Summer was looking at us when she sang Love To Love You Baby, since Concorde carried its first supersonic passengers to the skies, since petrol cost 70p a gallon and the original Rocky broke box office records.

Genuine, old-fashioned respect. Not today’s nuff gangsta posturing.

With the simple humility of an honest man proud that he won his British title, McKenzie said: ‘Unbelievable to be here. Unbelievable you still look the same.’

To the erudite manner born one of the greatest world champions, Leonard said: ‘I’m glad we have this chance to re-visit our moment in history.’

The chance came courtesy of this newspaper’s build-up for the London Olympics, our expression of the dream which will enchant our capital city two months from now.

Their mutual moment had come in the third round of the light-welterweight tournament at the Montreal Games.

‘Did you think you won’ asked Leonard with a playful slap of the bicep.

‘Oh no, you won all right,’ answered McKenzie, arms waving by way of illustration as he added: ‘You too smooth, too fast.’

Good memories: McKenzie and Leonard relive their fight at the Montreal Olympics

Good memories: McKenzie and Leonard relive their fight at the Montreal Olympics

Leonard, grinning: ‘Didn’t you think you might have got a draw’

McKenzie, abashed: ‘No, no. Too clever for me. I knew you’d go on and win the gold.’

‘Come on, Clinton. It was a good fight.’

‘But not close, Ray. Don’t forget I took a standing eight count in the second round.’

‘I don’t forget,’ said Leonard, putting a kindly arm around him.

Nor does he need to watch the video to remind him how he danced around McKenzie en route to Olympic glory, the lightning left jabs and pinpoint right hooks paving the way for the dazzling combinations which staggered him into that count and cemented the victory.

In fact, Leonard is possessed of extraordinary recall of all the vital events in an epic career which catapulted him from Olympic gold to the legendary fights which won him seven world titles in five weight divisions.

‘I remember all the important fights,’ he says, ‘Vividly. In detail. I studied Clinton like I studied every opponent before a fight, amateur and professional. I saw hardly any flaws in him despite his typical, straight-up European style.

‘He was an accomplished boxer and I was ready for a difficult fight. It helped me that on the day he was not aggressive enough. Too passive. Maybe that’s why (unlike his brother Duke) he never became a world champion.’

Champion: Leonard with his gold medal

Champion: Leonard with his gold medal

An unwitting explanation for that came from McKenzie himself when he told Leonard: ‘All the talk in the Olympic village was about this hot, hot prospect from the US. You. I knew I was going in against a future world champion, a future all-time great. It was an honour for me just to box you.’

A mite overawed he may have been but the Jamaican-born South Londoner helped prime Leonard for one of the most impressive triumphs in the history of Olympic boxing. The final pitted the brightest star of one of the finest US teams ever assembled for the Games against a mighty puncher from the amateur boxing power-house of Cuba.

Andres Aldama had knocked out all his opponents on his way to the final. Head-guards had yet to be introduced and Leonard recalls: ‘He wasn’t just knocking guys out, he was sending them to hospital. He was so impressive that people were beginning to wonder if I’d win the gold after all.’

Oh ye of little faith.

Sugar was anything but sweet that evening. He put Aldama to the sword, knocking him down twice and inflicting an eight count in the punishing course of racking up his fifth maximum 5-0 points win: ‘I’ll never forget the shock on his face and disbelief in his eyes the first time I floored him. He was supposed to be doing that to me but I beat him up.’

When he recovered Aldama vowed to win his gold four years later — and went on to do so by beating John Mugabi in the Moscow final.

Leonard announced his retirement: ‘That’s my last fight. I’ve achieved my ambition and I’m going back to college to get an education.’

That decision was not driven by the sexual abuse he suffered earlier at the hands of an amateur coach, which he bravely revealed in his recent book. He was concerned for his physical well-being and felt fulfilled as boxer.

‘It seemed like we were fighting every night in Montreal. Maybe there was the odd day off but really so little recovery time. It was hard. I needed a long lie in a hot tub every night and had to go to hospital for my badly swollen hands.’

Then this still-boyish wonder articulated the enormity of the Games: ‘I’d reached what I felt was my ultimate goal. Winning gold for me and my country.

‘The Olympics meant everything to me. Going through them is like nothing else you will ever experience. For those few weeks you are in another world. At that point I couldn’t see how there could ever be anything better.’

We meet again: McKenzie (left) with Leonard and Sportsmaill's boxing correspondent Jeff Powell

We meet again: McKenzie (left) with Leonard and Sportsmaill's boxing correspondent Jeff Powell

McKenzie, his own memories stirred, became emotional: ‘I loved the Olympics. I loved being with our team (little big man Charlie Magri et al). I loved every minute. Even loved losing to this man.’

Leonard smiled: ‘Hey, how many kids you got buddy’

McKenzie blushed: ‘Six.’

Leonard, hugging him again: ‘See, you beat me at that. Me, four.’ There they stood, the twin pillars of the Games. The triumph and the ecstasy in parallel with the simple beauty of taking part.

Leonard: ‘For me it was gold or nothing. I wouldn’t let anything stop me.’

McKenzie: ‘Of course I was trying to win but I was so proud just to be there, boxing for Britain. Always will be.’

It took a sharp dose of economic reality to jolt Leonard into turning pro.

As a handsome Olympic hero he was expecting to fund his new family and his quest for a degree with commercial sponsorship. But the ad-men did not cometh: ‘I suddenly realised that in 1976 corporate America was not ready for a black athlete.

‘Boxing at the time also carried a stigma. It was brutal and mob-related. There was no place for my picture on the cereal box. But it made me accept that I was pre-destined to be a fighter.’

Boxing clever: Leonard (left) beats Limazov Valbry at the Montreal Olympics

Boxing clever: Leonard (left) beats Limazov Valbry at the Montreal Olympics

Not that the transition was easy, not even for this genius of the ring: ‘Amateur boxing is all blazing away, throwing punches almost non-stop. As a young pro you have to learn that it’s about selection of punches — throwing the right punch at the right time for the right reason.

‘It’s physically tougher but at the same time mentally more demanding. You need strategy to set up the opponent.’

The most sensational example of that came in the 1980 re-match with Roberto Duran which followed defeat in their first fight: ‘I changed from standing and fighting him to hitting and moving, hitting and moving.’

After seven rounds of ‘pow-voom-pow-voom’ Leonard taunted Duran by pretending to wind up a right-hand bolo punch only to snap his head back with a stiff left jab.

Throughout, he had been tormenting Duran by dropping his hands and inviting him to hit his chin. One of the toughest — but on this night the most humiliated — of fighters turned his back seconds before the end of the eighth and famously told the referee ‘no mas’.

There was talk of a stomach bug but Leonard knew what had happened and had to smile as he said: ‘What he couldn’t really stomach was being messed about. He was a great fighter but I p****d him off.’

Not that he recommends the tactic to aspiring boxers: ‘Sticking your chin out with your hands hanging down is dangerous. High risk.

Gather round: McKenzie (far left) with his fellow boxers at the Olympics

Gather round: McKenzie (far left) with his fellow boxers at the Olympics

‘Your Naseem Hamed used to do it and I loved how he won that thriller against Kevin Kelley with all those knock downs in Madison Square Garden. But he didn’t have the basics of the game and when he tried it with Marco Antonio Barrera the game was up.’

Leonard also found ways to beat Wilfred Benitez, Marvin Hagler and Thomas Hearns during the golden age of welter-to-middleweight boxing. Sometimes controversially, always brilliantly.

Over lunch in Las Vegas a few days before Ray met Clinton here in LA, we were joined by Hearns’ brother. They reminisced about the first fight, a unanimous decision by which Leonard unified the world welterweight titles.

Then talk turned to the re-match, which many thought Leonard lost but was scored as a draw. John Hearns asked: ‘What did you say to my brother when you whispered in his ear after they announced the result’

Leonard: ‘I told Tommy he won. He asked if I would tell everyone else but I said, “Hell no, it’s not the time”. But I told the world later.’

Hearns: ‘Our family grieved forever after that fight.’

Leonard: ‘Tell them to stop, I love Tommy. Tell him to change it to a win on his record.’

So close: McKenzie (right) lands a punch on Puerto Rico's Ismael Martinez in Montreal

So close: McKenzie (right) lands a punch on Puerto Rico's Ismael Martinez in Montreal

Leonard and McKenzie re-visited not only each other but the galaxy of fights in which one was magnificently engaged and the other watched with admiration from afar.

‘Thank god you didn’t quit after the Games,’ said McKenzie. ‘What a loss to boxing that would have been.’

Later in his career, Leonard made something of a habit of retiring and coming back.

He finally gave up the hard old game for good in 1997, aged 40. McKenzie, a year the elder, hung up the gloves eight years earlier after failing for the second time to win a European title.

Retiring is always a problem for boxers so how do they know when it really is time to go

‘You lose that edge,’ says McKenzie. ‘One day it’s not there. You think you can get it back but you can’t. All over.’

Leonard: ‘The time to stop is when the other guy hits you more than you hit him.’

Do they miss it

‘Yeah,’ says Clinton with a shrug.

‘I don’t miss getting hit,’ says Sugar Ray. ‘But what a time I had. And what a time it was. And what an amazing life it’s given me. I became a celebrity and that’s fine because I enjoy people. I’ve got my foundation which lets me help folk who are struggling. I’m happy. Oh, and I’ve got my golf.’

A warm, generous man, Leonard cut this particular round short as soon as he knew McKenzie had arrived: ‘Don’t worry, Clinton. It wasn’t going well.’

Close friends: Leonard and McKenzie

Close friends: Leonard and McKenzie

He plays off 14, but mostly for the pleasure: ‘Never had a lesson. Never want any more sports coaching.

‘I suppose I was always a natural. And I’ve got the plaque to prove I’m not bad on my day.’

That sign, at the difficult Tour Players Championship course in Summerlin, Las Vegas, records his hole-in-one there: ‘They had it inscribed and up on the clubhouse wall before I finished my round.’

That’s fun. But so was boxing, violent though it could be: ‘Muhammad Ali changed the world but so, in our way, did me and Marvin and Roberto and Tommy. We showed that boxing is not only about the heavyweights.’

Leonard accepts that Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao are playing their part now but is as disappointed as all of us by their failure thus far to fight each other: ‘Floyd should stop worrying about his unbeaten record. The public don’t give a damn. They want to see the best fight each other.

‘I would give a narrow edge to Mayweather but I wouldn’t bet my house on it because he doesn’t like southpaws and Pacquiao would throw more leather than he’s ever had to face.

‘Don’t be fooled by the trouble Manny’s had with (Juan Manuel) Marquez. Every boxer finds at least one other guy’s style awkward. Even Ali struggled against Ken Norton. In my time, the rest of us had to deal with Tommy being so incredibly tall at the weight.

Would the Money Man and the Pacman have coped with Sugar and the old gang

‘No,’ said McKenzie.

‘Well,’ said Leonard with another smile, ‘that’s always tough to answer but I don’t think so. They’re little guys and they would have needed a step-ladder to reach Tommy.

‘They are very good and have some interesting fights. But we all took on each other. If Mayweather never fights Pacquiao he will have to live with that for the rest of his life.

‘I watched Floyd against Miguel Cotto the other night and it was a nice fight. But do you know what it didn’t have that we had

‘The magic.’

Our day in the sun was quite magical, too.

McKenzie dressed snazzily for the occasion in one of his zoot-suit throwbacks to the jazz age. Leonard hurried off the course in his golf gear.

McKenzie does not play golf. He continues to trade on his charisma and (still) fast hands at his gym deep in south London, where he is looking for another rising star while offering personal training services.

Their lives took differing paths but now their history is re-joined. It was a delight to watch them stroll together down memory lane. A privilege to share the moment.

Sport as it forever should be. Olympian.

Rangers crisis: Where did it all go wrong at Ibrox?

Where did it all go wrong at Ibrox Questions must be asked of Whyte as well as Murray

For all the myriad of questions that arose when the news of impending administration broke just after 3pm on Monday, one towered high above all others.

How on earth did a club, nay a Scottish sporting institution with some 140 years’ history, assume the mantle of some broken down, backstreet builder by serving notice of its intention to go into administration

One thing we do know is this: Rangers did not arrive at this dark day in its history by chance or accident. It was the culmination of years of financial mismanagement on a truly colossal scale, the seeds of which were sown long before Craig Whyte bought the club for 1 from Sir David Murray last May.

Where did it all go wrong Rangers have declared their intention to enter administration

Where did it all go wrong Rangers have declared their intention to enter administration

Rangers might yet, of course, follow the lead of Dundee, Livingston and Motherwell by surviving the humiliation of administration and prospering in the long term.

If they do not, and the bill for the HMRC tax case – which could now rise to 75million according to Whyte – must place a huge question mark against that happening, then there is no doubt this has been football’s equivalent of death by misadventure.

The club were at pains on Monday to stress that administration has yet to happen and could be staved off. But that now seems a forlorn hope.

Regardless of what the coming days and weeks hold, no one is in denial any longer. The existence of Rangers FC is now in mortal danger.

Even if the club somehow survives in its current form, there will be a gruesome post-mortem as to how it got to the sorry state that was Monday.

Blame will be apportioned in differing measures to the current and previous owner and there’s little doubt that both are culpable to one degree or another.

Left in the lurch: Ally McCoist (left) has an unenviable task

Left in the lurch: Ally McCoist (left) has an unenviable task

Yet, for all Murray undoubtedly set the club on the road to ruination in the late 1990s, history will show that Whyte was the man with the key to the door on the day the unthinkable edged a significant step closer.

The man from Motherwell, who was heralded as the club’s saviour when he assumed control last spring, has done next to nothing to suggest he is the answer to the prayers of the Light Blue legions.

Last Friday, a sheriff described his testimony in a civil case over a roofing bill as ‘wholly unreliable’. Perhaps ‘wholly unconvincing’ would be a more fitting description of his time in charge of Rangers to date – and that is being charitable.

He arrived promising to wipe out the club’s 18m bank debt, while handing Ally McCoist a front-loaded 25m war chest.

Yet, when the list of transfer arrivals and departures were scrutinised by the time the August window closed, the feelings among the huge fan base ranged from underwhelmed to deeply concerned.

Players like Dundee United pair David Goodwillie and Craig Conway, who once would have been used to merely fatten the squad, snubbed moves to Ibrox and headed south.

False dawn: Craig Whyte drives away from Ibrox on Monday night

False dawn: Craig Whyte drives away from Ibrox on Monday night

Budget-priced unknowns like Alejandro Bedoya and Juan Ortiz arrived, but made little impact. So much for the brave, new dawn.

As ever in football, on-field matters masked the off-field drama. As Celtic struggled at the outset of the season – at one stage falling 15 points behind McCoist’s team – the fans stayed off Whyte’s back.

Yet, when Ibrox legend John Greig and former chairman John McClelland resigned from the board claiming to have been frozen out by the Whyte regime, the spotlight was back on the Lanarkshire business man.

The actions of Greig, the club’s greatest-ever player, just months before the 40th anniversary of him lifting the European Cup Winners’ Cup in Barcelona, was a public relations disaster for Whyte. However, much worse was to follow. Having previously denied it, the owner then admitted having sold off the future proceeds of four years of season tickets to a London-based firm Ticketus for 24.4m.

He refuted claims that he used the funds to have cleared the 18m Lloyd’s Bank were owed when he bought Murray’s majority stake, but that only raised more questions.

On the brink: Rangers have a crippling tax bill

On the brink: Rangers have a crippling tax bill

He pointed at a 10m shortfall in the
club’s annual finances by way of explaining where the Ticketus money had
gone, but it did little to quell the growing fears of the fans.

The 6m departure of Nikica Jelavic to Everton – initially without a replacement – proved the final straw for many.

The club’s desperation to sell their star player in January suggested it was now a week-to-week existence.

It seemed the cash received wasn’t to be banked to pay off HMRC further down the line. This was to keep the wolf from the door tomorrow. Inquiries as to the possibility of imminent administration were stonewalled thereafter.

In the nine months since he walked up Edmiston Drive as owner of Rangers, Whyte did little to suggest he could get the club to a safe harbour in the required time frame.

For all his insistence that he was fulfilling a lifelong dream by owning the club, many remained to be convinced.

Start of the rot: David Murray sold the club to Whyte last summer

Start of the rot: David Murray sold the club to Whyte last summer

The questions kept coming: Was his
purchase part of some shrewd strategy that would benefit both himself
and the club in the long term Or had he simply bitten off more than he
could chew

Monday’s development certainly had more observers siding with the latter.

Yet, for all Whyte has fallen a long way short of the expectations Rangers supporters had for him, there are few who blame him entirely for the desperate state their club is now in.

It was plain old David Murray who, when faced with a resurgent Celtic in the 1990s, bombastically proclaimed that ‘for every fiver they spend, we will spend a tenner’.

Murray was prone to tub-thumping and hyperbole at times but he was all too serious on that occasion.

The long-term consequences of his financial stewardship of the club from that day onwards were laid bare on Monday.

For all Rangers fans feasted on the sight of Brian Laudrup and Paul Gascoigne during the 90s, their wages were largely paid for by regular Champions League involvement.

Glory days: Murray splashed the cash when Dick Advocaat was in charge

Glory days: Murray splashed the cash when Dick Advocaat was in charge

The appointment of former Holland
manager Dick Advocaat as manager in 1998 was rightly seen as a coup for
the club, but all semblance of rationale that had underpinned the club’s
transfer dealings up until that point quickly evaporated.

Despite English Premiership wages going through the roof in that period – creating a knock-on effect across Europe – Rangers still wheeled and dealed in the top markets like there was no tomorrow.

Giovanni van Bronkhorst, Arthur Numan, Michael Mols and Andrei Kanchelskis arrived. As five domestic trophies were won in two seasons, together with tangible progress in Europe, few of the light-blue persuasion cared about the cost.

Despite a 40m investment from the ENIC Group in 1996, Rangers’ debt reached an eye-watering 84m as the new millennium dawned.

And, staggeringly, buried behind that was 36m in Employment Benefit Trusts payments, a scheme which helped attract the best players on the market, but now looks capable of threatening the very existence of the club.

When Celtic belatedly got their house in order on the park by appointing Martin O’Neill as manager in 2000, Murray’s response was to take his spending to truly dizzying proportions.

Nadir: Tore Andre Flo cost 12million

Nadir: Tore Andre Flo cost 12million

Ronald de Boer arrived from Barcelona
and the 12m capture of Tore Andre Flo from Chelsea in November 2000 was
to be the nadir. It was a position from which the club never truly
recovered.

Murray stepped down as chairman, only to return in 2004. A fresh share issue sliced a sizeable chunk off the overdraft but, in underwriting it to the tune of 50m, the problem was simply shoved in another drawer.

Murray, who bought Rangers for 6m in 1988, then spoke of his intention to sell the club but there would be a caveat in any sale, he claimed.

‘It’s not about the money,’ he said of any prospective sale. ‘It’s about who would run the club in the correct way, and that’s not happened.
‘I would only do it (sell) if it was in the best interest of the club.’

Those words looked hollow on Monday night.