Fergus Im alive Im alive for you & all my love for you Is burnin strong
You are my rosemary & like the Hebredes You are in my melodies When Im in song
Chorus & makes me sing This song for you When rosy morning Keeps shining through
Rosie All of those things you do They keep me inter you Just like the winter dew You taste of spring
& when you take off your clothes You make me curl up my toes Your back unfurls as it grows An angel wing
Chorus & makes me sing This song for you When rosy morning Keeps shining through
Fergus You are my silver rose & when my lovin grows It falls like summer snows In golden corn
& just one look at you Gets me all co-ca choo Some drop of silver dew This rosy morn
Chorus & makes me sing This song for you When rosy morning Keeps shining through
You are my silver rose & like a flight of rainbows I’m never comin down This rosy morn
MARCHING ON WITH CHARLIE
I’m marching on with Charlie I’m marching far from home & when I march wi Charlie A never march alone I got my chieftan stood beside me & in that man I trust I’ll always be a highlander Until I’m turned to dust
We’re marching on with Charlie We’re marching far from home & when we march wi Charlie We never march alone I got my chieftan stood beside me & in that man we trust I’ll always be a highlander Until I’m turned to dust
I am marching on, marching, Marching on with Charlie Boy
I’m marching on wi Charlie Im marching fight to fight & when I march wi Charlie I’ll always march wi might Got my brothers stood beside me As solid as the stones I’ll always be a highlander Until Im turned to bones
We’re marching on wi Charlie We’re marching fight to fight & when we march wi Charlie We’ll always march wi might Got my brothers stood beside me & in that man we trust I’ll always be a highlander Until I’m turned to dust
I’m marching on wi Charlie Up by the Moray Shore I’m marchin on wi Charlie Down to Drumossie Moor I’ll find an English redcoat & slice a bloody spray I’ll always be a highlander Until my dying day
Marching on, marching on, Marching on with Charlie Boy
IF THIS IS SCOTLAND
Life, life, O what could it mean Youre born & you die & ya stuffd inbetween Whether dancing in Sanqaur sailing in Nairn I’ve been a proud Scots lass since I was a Bairn But if this is Scotland, then where are the maidens & the men so proud to be free If this is Scotland Then where is the freedom Wallace promised too me
Life, life, O what could it mean Youre born & you die & theres stuff inbetween Whether doon in Ardrossan or up Ullapool I’ve been a proud Scots lass since I was at school
But if this is Scotland, then show me Highlands Not these crmbling city jungles in decline & if this is Scotland Then where is the kingdom the Bruce told me was rightfully mine
Life, life, o what could it mean Youre born & you die & ya stuffd inbetween Whether doon in wee Gretna or up Aberdeen I’ll always be scottish & proud o the gene
Whether courting in Glasgie or married in Fife I’ll be a proud Scots lass the whole of my Life, life’s no rehearsal in dress Ya born & ya die & ya live more or less Whether doon in Port Seton or up Inverness I’ll be a proud Scots lass, good night & god bless
America O for a Muse of air, that would transcend The lightest season of convincive art, As here, as erst upon an antique stage, I rise to thee a proud exordial, Long sent to steer this vessel of repute Across a raft of retrospective wits Adorning this gymnic Conchordia Uploaded with prologean Chorus, Such dainty diversions stand antidote To times of dull labour, outstandingly, To live thro’ deeds, not years, thro’ thoughts, not breath, Thro’ intimacies of imitancy Rare souls yet rouse Humanity to ken Fair prospers capabilities within Each all of us to be a living God Admir’d & worship’d widely ‘cross the world My golden theme such Giants of the Sun Melded ankle-deep, brutal gang of three, Forming a cosmic counterpoint to life Four years of fabulous entanglements As much excitement as a night can bear As much commotion as a land can stand Exploding beyond borders thro’ the Globe Pantomimean pandemonium Of boxing; its burlesque imperative, Its irreproducable accident Of history; its outstanding resolve Thro’ acts of beauty, countrymen come hear The names of our three principles, Ali Frazier & Foreman – hear the angels sing
Angels Welcome, yes welcome, ye Gods of the Ring
***
OVERTURE
America When Smoking Joe Frazier met Muhammad Ali It was the Fight (FIGHT) of the Century When Foreman floor’d Frazier the talk of all Jamaica Was the height (HEIGHT) of brutality
We don’t believe what we’re seeing Got no right to call them human beings As they fight their way thro mortal ceilings As the angels sing
Angels Welcome ye Gods of the Ring
America When Foreman took a tumble the Rumble in the Jungle Was a night (OF) immortality & man what a killer the Thrilla in Manilla Saw the might (MIGHT) of humanity
We don’t believe what we’re seeing Got no right to call them human beings As they fight their way thro mortal ceilings As the angels sing
Angels Welcome ye Gods of the Ring
***
SCENE 1: Philadelphia
Joe Frazier is sat in his car singing along to the radio – Muhammad Ali knocks on the window – Frazier gestures to Ali to get in the car – Enter Muhammad Ali carrying a suitcase
Ali Hey, man, nice wheels
Frazier Front-drive Eldorado
Ali The Queen o’ Cadillacs I heard ’em say
Frazier So where you wanna go
Ali The bus station
Frazier Sure, that aint far, I’m happy to oblige
Ali Look at us, undefeated champions Of the whole world’s heavyweight division All in one space & ne’er comin’ to blows
Frazier There’s a time & a place for that action Mine was no ignoble supplantation My honour says we’ll have to fight one day I’ve even sent the Supreme Court letters Begging them return your boxing license
Ali I dig that, brother, your soul is shining You got good days ahead, too, good money You got Mac Foster coming up; Foreman – George Foreman – both million-dollar gates Rip’ning all the time, beautiful paydays You got it made if you just play it cool, But big up the truth, man, if you fought me, Would you be scared?
Frazier No, man, honest to God
Ali You really wouldn’t be
Frazier No kinda way
Ali I mean my fast left jab, the way I dance?
Frazier Noooooo! I’d get close to you, I’ve heard ’em talk ‘Bout how fast you is, moving away, but You’ll find out how fast I am moving in.
Ali Remember that time you came to see me Fight Zora Folley? You wanted to learn From me
Frazier We all know a time of learning.
Ali You believe you learnt enough to fight me?
Frazier Hell, yeah! Maybe even if I didn’t Know enough, I would never turn you down – For any man that turns another down In his profession deem less than a man
Ali What if a man is wise & bides his time As when we watch’d delinquents stab their knives Stood safely by on sidewalks when us boys
Frazier I’m ready now to beat you fair & square
Ali So, do you think you could decision me, Or could even stop me before fifteen?
Frazier I’m sure I could stop you before fifteen.
Ali You really do?
Frazier I really do. You see, The kinda stuff on you I’m gonna put Y’ain’t ever seen before, you understand?
Ali It’s impossible to dodge my jab
Frazier Those other cats let you have it your way Just like they let me have it my way, dig? They let you jump around the ring, and dance, But I’d be getting me right dead on you Every time you breathe you would be breathing Right down on my head.
Ali You never whip me You be tired after six rounds of scuffling.
Frazier You be tired, too, trying to get away Running and jabbing, ducking and dodging You be tired, too.
Ali I’m stronger than you think {long pause} I really believe you afraid of me
Frazier {long pause} No, I sure ain’t – I wanna fight you bad
Ali After I get myself into good shape, I’m gonna dance and move like Sugar Ray. S’impossible to whip me with your style
Frazier Well, I been up against real race horses But I’ve whipp’d ’em all down to a slow trot. Slammin’ sticky quicksand under bruis’d hooves.
Ali I’ll admit you good, but I’m the fastest Fist in the history of the whole world.
Frazier Moving away, maybe, but moving in, No way, that’s me, I’m fastest moving in
Ali But you don’t have no jab.
Frazier {aghast, almost stops car} I don’t have a jab?
Ali Keep driving! Watch it! No, you got no jab
Frazier But man, I’d tear your head off with a jab! I’ve got a jab like a cool machine gun
Ali I’ve seen you box, I fought Sonny Liston twice, When he was at his best – Floyd Patterson I beat, & all those title defenses Like Mildenberger & Henry Cooper.
Frazier What you want me to do?
Ali And I fought Zora Folley & Cleveland Williams
Frazier Which one you want me to fight?
Ali They all beat – but leaving out me & you Who you think would be the best two to fight The all-time title
Frazier Oh, like Joe Louis & Jack Johnson
Ali Damn straight, that’s who I think.
Frazier Yeah, man, y’know I hope you do get back. But, man, you ain’t gonna do no whipping. Not on me. I hope there’ll be no hard feelings When I whip your ass {Sees Ali about to cut in} Brother let me talk! Got no hard feelings with you anyplace But when we in the ring, you on your own.
Ali But you be on your ownsome lonesome, too
Frazier That’s the only way I know how to be.
Ali If we can’t get along, let’s get it on.
Frazier We’ll get it on. Ain’t no doubt about that. Once that bell rings, I see you psych ’em out But me, I’m a different cut – I’m the Greatest psych artist ever put on earth You’d outpsych Houdini easy than me
Ali For that smart remark, here’s my prediction A perfect blueprint of the first five rounds
Frazier Who say you gonna last that –
Ali Let me talk! That night of the fight at the ticket booth, I want the people to pick up the program, See written out round-by-round what I’ll do Like reading menus for an eight-course meal Now the first round–Dong! See me coming out But I ain’t gonna do nothing, no need Just gonna show you off as an amateur, I won’t throw one punch, I’m just gonna dance & hold my guard down by my groovin’ hips Gonna dance and move like I did with Floyd Patterson, ‘what’s the matter son,’ I’ll say As you don’t even get in one poor punch But still, I’m gonna let you win that round. Then, second round–Dong! I’m coming out fast, I’ won’t be shooting nothing but left jabs. Gonna hold my right hand down by my side I won’t be needing it for no protection, Nothing but left jabs, nothing but left jabs, Here comes the jabs . . . then the third round–Dong! I’m coming out, putting footwork together Jabs together, right crosses together & here come the unstoppable left hooks
Frazier {exploding} Sounds like you done won the fight already–
Ali I aint gonna miss a left jab that round And after that fifth round–
Frazier {can’t stand it any longer} Wait, wait–
Ali You say what you say when I’m through
Frazier Go & muzzle up that Nostradamus
Ali Lemme finish, man, don’t be getting scared,
Frazier Scared?
Ali Yeah. Now, in the fourth round–
Frazier {angry} It’s coming off! This fight has got to come off!
Ali The fourth round– I’l tie you up & in your feetless fifth I’m gonna right-cross you, talking to you, Telling you the history of your life Teaching you & inventing new punches
Frazier Now where I’m gonna be at all this time Ya doing all these things, counting fingers?
Ali You will be trying to throw everything But none of those knick-knacks are gonna land
Frazier Hear me Clay, it ain’t gonna be that way.
Ali {shrugs} You have a right to say that, as have I
Frazier The right to say what I would wanna say & now I’m gonna tell you what I feel Its gonna go, you gonna run about, A few rounds, throw a few pansy punches Then in the sixth I’m gonna knock you down
Ali No! Listen! Don’t you try my predicting
Frazier I’m telling you
Ali Be sure you back it up! Your behind gonna be mine in round nine! As soon as you start working the body, I’m gonna shoot for your head–quick! WHIP! WHIP! WHIP! You won’t get to my body ‘less you clinch
Frazier Outta twenty-six fights I ain’t never Held on to a man
Ali But brother listen We know the truth by reason & by heart Something tells me you & me got bizness I hope you’re still the champ when I get back Effluent with unstocking’d refluence All this for saying no to killing folk Pinn’d down by an imperial pastern I aint no triggerhappy dilettante I got no quarrel with the Vietcong No Vietcong ever call’d me nigger Those Vietcong don’t put no dogs on me Nor robb’d me of my nationhood, hey look Its the station, pull over
Frazier Sure thing, man
Ali Nice one brother, real nice, & thank-you, hey!
Frazier Yeah
Ali You don’t have any money to spare I’m short for the ticket
Frazier Hah! Of course man
Ali You’ll get it back with int’rest when we fight
Frazier Here’s a hundred bucks
Ali You’re a good brother, Better friend, farewell & be prosperous
Exit Muhammad Ali
THE CONCHORDIA FOLIO
“Its worth a pop, right, to try & knock that Shakespeare Off his feffin’ perch!”
5th Street Gym – Foreman is training with his trainer, Dick Sadler – Enter Ali carrying a suitcase
Ali George Foreman! George Foreman! How ya diddling
Foreman drops his mitts with joy
Foreman Cassius Clay!
Ali That aint my name no more That my slave name
Foreman Sorry man
Dick Stop the press! Muhammad Ali is in Miami For what do we owe this cockal honour
Ali I was down in sunny Florida boys & boxers are the only ones who dig Truly what its like to be a boxer – I must admit I miss the test of mein The sweat of competition, & the ring Times joyful lie in graves of memories & I must live vicariously life So George, I hear y’ave three fights coming up As quick as my swift left-right-left, yeah?
Foreman You hear right – on the sixth I’ve Hazelton Then fight Levi Forte on the sixteenth With Gary Hobo Wiler two days aft
Ali Busy boy
Dick He needs to be kept busy He get nerve-edged & spleenful if he aint All that agression & testosterone Needs to be legally releas’d, ya dig?
Ali You aiming for Frazier
Foreman If he’s champ, yeah
Ali He aint that good, I’ve seen the way he fights When coming in – he’s weak on uppercuts True quality don’t melt down from his blood But listen George, let me show you something {Foreman sits down, Ali begins to open the suitcase} Just wait until to lay your gaze on this If ever you world champion became Status demands you’re reach’d by one of these
Ali reveals a portable phone – Forman laughs
Ali What’s so funny?
Foreman Thought I was gonna see All the money in the world
Ali You want it
Foreman Say what?
Ali It’s yours for twelve hundred dollars
Foreman Brother, I aint got that kinda money
Dick He will have one day, tho’
Ali I’m sure he will Just look at those arms gladitorial I’m hearing good things ’bout that swing of yours So speak me of yourself, George, where ya from For we might have to range at blows one day
Foreman Well – I’m a Texan by birth & by girth From the infamous, impov’rish’d Fifth Ward The rotten, scabbing face of Houston’s filth Got tangl’d up, too many scrapes a child King of the Fights, Lord of all Bullies To cheap read wine I turn’d the stolen change Thro deviant, delinquent alchemie My only aspiration was to win The respect of killers by killing too Until a flash of godly vision fair Told me to do something, try out this life, & when I pull’d the gloves on that first dawn I knew ‘d won salvation in the ring
Ali Salvation? S’that what they call a whuppin In Houston?
Dick My boy don’t take no whuppins He blest with a catalogue of endowments
Ali I see just that – to win Olympic gold No mean feat – it was mine back in Sixty Joe Frazier won the same in Sixty-four & both of us went on to rule the world Well – Joe Frazier’s only the fake champ – But you dig my meaning, brother
Foreman I do To be a classic in one’s own short age Is tantamount to cosmic excellence
Dick Your famous gift for scrying things to pass As acccurate as when you’ve pluck’d the rounds From living aether’s dream – my man should leap Like you & Frazier from the rostrum’s edge Unto the pinnacle of punch & pain, His power grows uncanny & too much For the very best veteran fighters His left returns like recurring pistons Bigger, stronger, faster Sonny Liston, With these fists he’s dismissing everyone Atavic to Numidian giants Who fought off Rome upon the desert’s fringe He like a jivehound hiving with the drones The unearthly scourge of his division That is the richest it has ever been Quarry, Ellis, Oscar Bonavena, Macfoster, Shavers & george Chavala All steamroll’d by the Houston Tornado
Ali He don’t scare me – you aint no monster, George But good luck anyway in all you box – So, do you want the phone
Foreman The what
Ali The phone You can have it for nine hundred dollars
Foreman I gone told you I don’t have no money
Dick He don’t be needing no portable phone
Ali No sweat, I’m sorry to disturb you boys & see you both some time along the line
Foreman Goodbye Muhammad
Dick That cat’s coming back I can feel it & I do not like it That alley cat Ali drives me crazy
Foreman Maybe so, but the division needs him & if I’m ever gonna be the champ Outright & undisputed to the world I’ll have to fight that madman in the ring
Dick You’ll have to down Joe Frazier first, so back To work, come on son, let me see your jabs
George Foreman returns to training
SCENE 3: Philadelphia
The street outside Joe Frazier’s gym, 2917 N. Broad Street / Enter Ali with a rowdy crowd including photographers & a film cameraman
Ali I want Frazier, I want Frazier, I want Frazier, I want Frazier, I want Frazier Come out here Joe, come out here & fight me
Crowd We want Frazier, we want Frazier, we want Frazier, we want –
Joe Frazier & Eddie Futch appear at the door
Frazier What’s all this commotion
Ali Man, you aint no champion of the world We end those signal farcicals today Swerving your curveballs back to real truth
Eddie What are you doing in Philly, Ali This aint your town, these cats aint your people
Ali These cats are sick & tired of hearing lies, Seeing false visages of victory They want to see the proper champion Forgo the inglorious arts of peace & beat up on an ugly pretender
Frazier You what!
Ali Lets go & fight in Fairbank Park
Frazier You’re crazy man
Ali Well you’re a coward The whole world knows you’re a flat-footed bull Who moves like plowhorse thro’ rain-sodden mud
Frazier Hey sissy! You can’t hit, you got nothing
Ali I want you Joe
Frazier I want you too
Ali Well then, At five o clock meet me up at Fairbank {to the crowd} I have a lot of speed I have a lot of endurance When I’m done with Joe Frazier He’ll need more insurance {Crowd laugh} Joe Frazier too rebarbative to be The representative of human might He’d be better off donating his face To the National Bureau of Wildlife
Frazier See what I do to your pretty face, Clay
Ali Whaddaya call me?
Frazier Clay… Cassius Clay
Ali Aint so, Cassius Clay is my slave name I didn’t choose it, I didn’t want it I am Muhammad Ali, a free name It means Beloved of God, you dig God? Joe, right?
Frazier Dont go bringin’ religion into this This all about two men gettin’ it on
Ali Lets get it on then, Joe, in Fairbank Park At Five o Clock
Frazier I aint coming you fool Your dearth of noblesse falls appalingly I won’t be fighting no lunatic brawl
Ali Dont be a coward, Joe, see you at five {to crowd} Can one of you lovely locals tell me Where’s the flavourbest ice creams in Phily
Exit Muhammad Ali & the crowd
Eddie Gassius Cassius, Louisville Lip Coming making you look bad in your crib I thought he was your friend
Frazier Yeah, so did I
Eddie Funny way to show it
Frazier He don’t rile me He nutting but a shunting stunt monkey Engladdening the basest strains of men When lenses land upon him he cries fake But I guess such zero-adding antics Won’t hurt a jot when come the paycheques, right?
Eddie You wanna fight that schmuck
Frazier He’s outta shape & outta touch with all reality For Mister Bigshot Sixties decades change
Eddie So back to work, focus on Joe Ellis
Frazier His time will come, I’ve seen it in my dreams
Eddie Futch & Joe Frazier re-enter the gym
SCENE 4: Fairbank Park, Philadelphia
Muhammad Ali is surrounded by a large crowd chanting ‘Ali-Ali-Ali-Ali-Ali’
Ali I’m Hercules struggling thro’ his labours I’m D’Artagnan, Cyrano & El Cid When I smile women swoon, grown men shudder As I scowl, some would say I’m dangerous Too dangerous, it seems, for Joe Frazier & prettier by untold magnitudes A better boxer obvious to all Tho’ Uncle Tom got my championship They refus’d to fight me at five o clock Its now ten past, shows Frazier was afraid Of a good whuppin in front of you all Here I am, aint had a fight in three years Carrying an extra twenty-five pounds & Joe don’t show up, what kind of a champ Is that
Crowd-member 1 Joe’s just a phoney
Ali He sure is & now we’ve all seen he just a coward I’ll have to find another way to scrub The tainted glaze of someone’s else’s hands Upon my sacred crown, but I’ll need dough To pay this Supreme Court date coming up So off I go to Broadway
Crowd Broadway
Ali Yeah To sing a heap of songs in Uncle Buck
Crowdmember 2 Right on
Crowdmember 3 Give us a song
Ali You’ll have to wait But boy, am Ithe world’s greatest singer
Exit Ali & crowd
THE CONCHORDIA FOLIO
“Its worth a pop, right, to try & knock that Shakespeare Off his feffin’ perch!”
George Abbott Theater / Muhammad Ali is playing the lead role in the musical, Buck White – he is stood before a crowd of black Americans
***
WE CAME IN CHAINS
We came in chains! We came in misery! Now all our suffering, pains are part of history. We came in chains! You must remember that! For that, and that alone explains exactly where we are at. We came in chains! We came as living loot! So you could boast! Slave gotten gains. We’ve grown beneath your boot! We came in chains! And how our blood was spilled! Together with our sweat, it stains this nation we have built. We came in chains! We didn’t volunteer; and yet today the fact remains. We’re still held captive here. We came in chains! Now, I say cut us lose! Though, that may go against your grain. Still, there is no excuse! We came in chains! Now, who down there is gonna bear the cost. Till every one of us regains, the freedom, we have lost. We came in chains! And now, your choice must be… to either blow out all my brains! Or else, you’ll set me free!
We came in chains Four hundred years No justice, no freedom, no equality Ninety Seventy – still in chains sociological chains Economical chains Chains Look at thsese chains Chains – chains – chains
Scene 6: The dressing room
Enter Ali / he takes off his wig & beard & begins remving his make up / Enter Rahman Ali
Rahman As-salamu alaykum
Ali As-salamu alaykoum
Rahman Brother, that was brilliant – your Buck White Is all black – a mighty fine performance
Ali I have to admit I was fantastic, Forget Belafonte, Porgy & Bess I captur’d the stage with straight charisma But what use nautical genius When navigators act the neophyte & crewmen do whate’er they wanna do We set sail for Hudson’s sunrise harbour But ended up in Anchorage at dark Lingering in miserable perdition
Rahman That sounds the harshling cry, Zev Bufman looks Like shaking apples from a fruitful tree
Ali Maybe, when they’re all ripe, but not tonight Or any night with Buck White, that was bad
Rahman Bad, yeah, Beautiful Alleluia Days That is the music groove you galvanised With this scintillating singing of yours That fell like medicine into mine ear
Ali I did sing fine, the story aint that bad But there was something lacking in the soup For those who sing of serious problems Will cheapen them with cliches well-meaning But enough pathos, how are ma & pa?
Rahman Pa still drinking hard, ma still Christian She misses sitting ringside at your fights
Ali She can watch us squabble at Thanksgiving Over Turkey best bits & apple yams
Enter Angelo Dundee
Dundee Muhammad Ali, that was terrible Cuirassiers on pantomime horses Carry more honour & look more noble
Ali I know, I sense fair time to give it up This febrile public stance, & do God’s work The shape of beauty moves off from my life Leaving discomfort shifting foot to foot
Dundee I wouldn’t be so hasty in retreat I took a call this morning that should sway Your soul from all its awkward inertia
Ali What was it
Dundee You’re going to Atlanta
Ali Atlanta
Dundee They’ve agreed to let you fight
Rahman They gave him back his license?
Dundee They sure have
Ali & the Supreme Court
Dundee While you’re appealing Your born-in livelihood deem sacrosanct & you may fight, my boy
Angelo Dundee
Ali Your boy is back!
Dundee Fifty cities turn’d you down, Atlanta Be the fifty-first
Ali I love Atlanta
Rahman What made them swerve towards the righteous path My brother walks, alone, despite the bile Especially in Georgia, whose only Sports prestigious tourney be the Masters That rolls on categorically for Whites Ghouls of the rotten Confederate heart Enclos’d in the pollution of the soul
Dundee The guts of Leroy Johnson we should thank He’s attorney, State Senator – & black!
Ali I heard him on TeeVee, he speaketh well
Dundee Morehouse College Alum, well anyway He pull’d a few strings & twang’d a few bows & BOOM! We’ll be trippin’ to Atlanta
Ali Salt that proposal with magical thinking Didn’t I tell you I loved Atlanta
Rahman You did, brother, you did
Ali & Georgia too! I love Atlanta & Georgia I love I am a tiger at an open cage No longer feel the knee upon my neck I might not have my title, but my right To fight, first step upon that vital road Which bridges each misprision, & vaults Each dreadful river of racialism
Rahman Praise be to Allah! Sing Alleluia! & when the Supreme Justices admit I love my god like he or she loves theirs They’ll understand my conscience & my cause For how can they true champions supress They let me back on my terms, I denied Nothing I believe in, I’m still the same Everything… so boss, whomah gonna fight!
Dundee The Great White Hope
Ali Quarry
Dundee Jerry Quarry
Ali & then I’ll whup Joe Frazier
Dundee Sure you will
Ali He’ll drop like Jack Johnson dropp’d Jim Jeffries
Dundee Cos you’re the greatest
Ali I am the greatest!
Rahman You are the greatest
Dundee Yes, boy, you are still That sleek & tawny beautiful gazelle That dazzl’d broad Johansson with your jabs
Ali Hey come on sucka, show me what you got I sang to him that special second round
Rahman You sure did make him angry, made him swing That sledgehammer right – it miss’d by three feet
Ali No boxer lives can touch my pretty face Two left jabs, a rapid right cross, a hook Was all it took to stun poor Ingemar
Dundee Poor fool – now come on, lets get outta here
Ali But what about the after show party
Dundee You ain’t going, we’ve got running first thing A nice ten miler made to remind ya To rise up side-by-side Hercules Is gonna take an ocean’s worth of sweat
Ali Hah – let me catch you down in the foyer
Rahman Alright brother
Dundee Don’t forget your make up
Ali {wiping off his make-up} I ain’t no clown with make-up on my face I am Muhammad Ali, Heavyweight Champion of the world, despite the hate I fight for my god, my people, my fame Remember me forever as the flame Burning as bright as starlight in the skies Woven in sacred sable tapestries In motion of no less celerity Than that of thought!
SCENE 7: Madison Square Gardens
Ali & Frazier are sat at a table either side of Bob Arum / the room is filled with photographers & journalists including ABC’s Howard Cosell
Arum Splendid afternoon to everybody Welcome to these dangerous inductions & thanks for all for coming here this day But as we all admit this day rare pois’d These are two undefeated champions Hand-set to tip the balance either way What storms-a-coming, happy are they both
Cosell I’m sure they are, purse fretting free to burst As if a bounty on a proditor Set by the richest kings of Xanadu
Arum That’s right, five million split evenly Between our handsome, priceworth prize-fighters The whole world wants to see them battle raged & slam a wage against the winning odds Every heart trembles, every wine flows For what should be the Fight of the Century, Better even that the famous long count When the Manassa Mauler, Jack Dempsey, Took on Gene Tunny, the fighting marine More famous than when James J Corbett fought John L Sullivan in twenty one rounds This event is greater by multitudes Than when Joe Louis batter’d Max Schmelling & bloodied Hitler’s nose & attitude This is the biggest we have ever seen By ten hundred million people watch’d Across the world – Poland, Arabia The Odeon in Burn-e-ley, Hong Kong You name the place, they’ll be watching the bout
Journalist One What do the fighter’s think?
Journalist Two What round Ali?
Ali I aint gonna call the rounds, but I’ll still shine A singular prediction’s lantern light When he & I enfisted ye shall see Ungarish, cut-ingraven amateur Completely outbox’d, so easy to hit, When the fans will throw dirt at the critics & experts for misleading them so much
Frazier You got time
Ali What do you wanna say, Joe How ya gonna riposte all that wisdom
Frazier I say it nuttin but a bunch of noise His brain is threading needles back thro time But today is today, man, understand You’re not fighting Oscar Bonavena You’re not fighting Patterson or Liston You’re fighting Joe Frazier
Ali I know that man Everybody know that, that’s not the point
Frazier That is the point
Cosell Joe, what’s your prediction
Frazier The fight won’t go the distance
Ali No it won’t
Frazier I’ll stop him
Ali Stop me
Frazier You
Ali How soon? What round?
Frazier {angry & fluster’d} One to ten, you’ll be outta there, I’ll stop…
Ali He’s agitated! He’s agitated! {laughter from the journalist} He’s famous cos there were no good boxers To fight him
Frazier Get ready cos here I come
Ali I’ll still my tongue, now, no more prefight talk But I would like to offer one more wise Even tho’ I twice beat Sonny Liston The Boxing Commission ne’er was convinc’d I was the right & proper champion
Frazier But that’s all over, now you’re fighting me
Ali I’m the true champ, your fights only draw Four thousand people tops, there’s more folk come To see me train than watch your actual Y’aint no-one, they only wanna see me
Frazier Who got top billing? Who got top billing?
Ali {standing up shaking his fist} Wait ’til I get you in the ring
Frazier {pushing back Ali’s fist} And what?
Ali Get your hands off me! Get your hands off me! The whole world recognizes me as champ
Frazier You got one half & I got the other It doesn’t really matter anymore We’ll make a fight, revive & shape it whole
Ali No man alive could ever beat myself If Joe Frazier whups me I’ll be dropping On hands & knees to crawl across the ring I’ll crawl across the ring, look up & say You are the champion
Frazier {putting his hands on Ali’s shoulders} I’ll tell you what
Ali {shrugging off Frazier} Get your hands off me Then I’m gonna crawl Back across the ring, then leave behind The boxing world forever – hang on man – Whatma saying – that aint gonna happen I’m gonna whup you, I’m gonna whup you
Frazier The thing is you aint gonna be able To crawl anywhere, you’ll be laying down
Ali Listen to me boy you will bleed, bleed bad
Frazier We’re gonna try & see who is the best
Ali I’m the best
Frazier No, I’m the best
Ali No I am I’m the greatest – the world is gonna see Two heavyweight champions, one phoney One real – to distinguish will be easy
Joe I’LL BE THERE
Ali How ya gonna hit me, Joe I’m too fast
Frazier I’ll be smoking’ right on you
Ali I’ll be picking, poking, pouring water On your smoking
Frazier I’ve had enough of this I’m outta here {to Ali} I’ve no further with you
Exit Joe Frazier
Ali Where ya going, Joe! Where ya going, Joe! I got him running scared, he aint no champ Not in the eyes of Black America He fights for Uncle Tom, my opressors After I lost my title to the draft They gave it Frazier, the White Man’s negro The pale-ass-kisser who stands up only For purses in rings, forgets his people Joe Frazier’s nail’d on to get telegrams From folks in Alabama in Georgia Saying, ‘Buddy, play the White Man tonight & demolish that draft-dodging n!gger! yeah, whup that uppity, loud n!gger, Clay,’ But ninety-nine percent of my people Are with me in the ring, identify My struggle as theirs’, its the same damn one They fighting every day, when if I win They win, if I lose they lose, but listen, I aint gonna lose against Joe Frazier He’s too ugly to be champ, he’s too dumb He’s nuttin gut a griftin street slugger He take five good punches just to give one
Arum OK, that’s about enough for today, & we’ll be seeing you all very soon
Journalist One We’ll be there Bob
Journalist Two Ali, what’s the status Of your case
Arum I’m sorry, that will be all
Exit Bob Arum & Muhammad Ali
THE CONCHORDIA FOLIO
“Its worth a pop, right, to try & knock that Shakespeare Off his feffin’ perch!”
Joe Frazier is waiting in his car / Marvis gets in looking dejected
Frazier Hey son, whats up, you don’t look too special
Marvis I don’t wanna talk about it, daddy
Frazier Hey son, if there’s one person in the world You can talk to, that’ll be your daddy
Marvis I’m getting into all kind a-trouble At school
Frazier Yeah, go on
Marvis It’s the other kids They’re like, ‘Ali is gonna whip your dad Your dad cant fight’ I say why you say that They say you is a Tom
Frazier I aint no Tom Don’t listen to them words, them words are harsh Spew’d falsely from a liar’s portmanteau
Marvis So whaddowha do daddy?
Frazier Just be true There’s no wrong way to do right, no right way To do wrong, you aint better than no-one They aint better than you, only your deeds May be accounted by those divine eyes Which watches all we people do on Earth, Such eyes as those watch’d me work extra hard & grant our family extra blessings
Marvis So what shall I say when they call you Tom
Frazier Just tell them that your poppa make him pay For purveying untruths, to them relay Your daddy gonna beat Cassius Clay & you know, son, that fool got it coming Spitting razorblades with febrile rash, I gave my heart & soul to help him out But the brother came back with a dagger Plung’d it right in my back, I’m no Yes Man No White Man’s champion, I represent The People, believe me I’m one of them, At six o clock, back at the slaughterhouse I started my shift, but two hours before I was in there, training, pounding slabs of meat
Marvis You’re gonna pound him
Frazier Sure am, cos I’m a…
Frazier & Marvis Small piece of leather well put together!
Frazier I’ll fight him all night long, tear off his wings, Grind down his stinger
Marvis I wanna see that
Frazier You will, son, you will, now lets get ice cream You want ice cream
Marvis Pistachio?
Frazier You got it
Scene 9: America
Enter the Spirit of America
***
ACROSS THE USA
I was born in Arizona Moved to Tallahassee way Now I live in California Where I always want to stay But if I wanna see America I got to leave LA Cos the open road is calling me Acr.ooss the USA
I caught a bit of Woodstock But the Hippies smelt too strange At Altemont I dug the rock But then I sensed the change & now its ninety-seventy one Saigon’s a firing range A new spirit moves thro’ everyone With the sixties all estranged
Cos there shines a new America As bright as the new day When a boxing bout thrills all of us Across the USA
***
Before important actions pass to thought & build a pleasure dome from the project Those thoughts ensure a Xanadu remain Of esoteric sensitivities On foundations of vivid ideas When imagination’s endless powers Protagony combines & modifies With feelings & affections made ideal, Admire these two prizefighters in their prime Pois’d in the cyclone’s eye with one purpose, America is torn & polarised Between bad guy, good guy, good black, bad black, There is no middle land, fanatical Cabins of moonshine, old men with rifles Bicker cross valleys, this civil war, Profusing with spiritual foison Exploding one nation divisible, Meanwhile, all aspects of our planet’s moon Reflect the coming bursts of stars & light, The streets of Buenos Aires are empty, From Borneo up to the soft-strewn snow The world stands by, bistros & beerkellers The retinas of every Human drawn To one small square of canvas, brightly lit, & watching on with eager, hungry eyes See young George Foreman, set to step within The ropes himself, to fight whomever wins The Fight of the Century… & begin!
Scene 10: Madison Square Gardens
Muhammad Ali is at his weigh-in
Ali Who is the champion of the world? Who is the champion of the world? If I’m not the champion of the world Then who is – don’t think about Joe Frazier Y’all musta come down with amnesia Forgotten how good I was or something Let me refresh your memory tonight I’ll show you what a real champion is I’ve fixed up the round Joe Frazier goes down I’m sick & tired of all of this y’see They took away my title & then talk’d All this phoney stuff about Joe Frazier But after tonight there’ll ne no more Joe This game is real, this aint no phoney game I’ll fight them all regardless of the risk I am Heracles struggling thro’ his labours I am D’Artagnan, Cyrano, El Cid, When I smile women swoon, grown men shudder When I scowl, some might say I’m dangerous Because I’m fighter born & fighter breathe All those chumps are just commercializing In a few hours you will all bow to me {laughter} I aint laughing, you will all bow to me {to referee} I want the exact weight, so take your time
Referee Its two-eighteen
Ali Thats dancing weight, lets dance I’m ten pounds heavier than Joe Frazier But still I’m looking better than the fool, Remember I am Muhammad Ali & evermore the greatest shall I be!
Ding! Ali comes out to meet Frazier but Frazier starts to retreat If Frazier goes back an inch farther he’ll wind up in a ringside seat Ali swings to the left, Ali swings to the right. Look at the kid carry the fight. Frazier keeps backing but thereís not enough room. Itís a matter of time Ali lowers the boom. Now Ali lands to the right. What a beautiful swing. And the punch lifts Frazier clean out of the ring. Frazier’s still rising but the referee wears a frown For he can’t start counting til Frazier comes down. Now Frazier disappears from view The crowd is getting frantic. But our radar station picks him up He’s somewhere over the Atlantic. Who would have thought when they come to the fight That weíd see the launching of a coloured satellite.
Scene 11: Madison Square Gardens / Joe Frazier’s dressing room
Joe is praying – the room is very quiet enter Eddie Futch
Futch Joe, watcha doin, it is almost time
Frazier I’m praying
Futch Sorry
Frazier That’s OK, I’m done
Futch I’m glad to say I lived to see this night & serv’d its better part beside your dreams, So tell me the substance of your prayers
Frazier I ask’d the lord to help me kill this man For lacking righteousness – I’ll kill this man & even if I have to die myself
Futch Don’t say that
Frazier I mean it, this is blood feud For what he’s done & said God strike him down
Enter Van Colbert
Van Colbert That vast arena shines electric blue With every star bright striving to be seen As if the Milky Way trails unobscur’d & radiant to the crystal degree
Futch Tonight the sight of God suspsends his scales & finds one to be light
Van Colbert They stand in line As if the crown jewels of old England On loan in New York, so many diamonds There’s Diane Keaton & Ted Kennedy Gene Kelly, Bill Crosby, Woody Allen Diana Ross in black, velvet hot pants Outrageously, glamourously, stylish Sinatra’s on an assignment for Life The only way his fame could entrance make So scarce are the tickets for this catwalk Of butterblond gals with cadillac souls All feather’d & furry with laces & boots & butterfly hair by mink-coated pimps More the coronation than the fist-fight Bejewell’d entourages where the men For once outclass the women in their dress
Futch So champ, tell me, the moment that you hear The mad, hollow rumble of the Gardens & that first leaping heartbeat of the bell What you gonna do to Cassius Clay
Frazier I’ll close off the ring, connect with power
Futch Ya gonna weave, weave,
Frazier Go in on the weave I’ll never stop my locomotive steps
Futch Thats why they call you Smokin’ Joe
Van Colbert Damn straight
Frazier I’ll remonstrate his turpitude all night Keep hooking & ducking, exhaust his force Then canvas the chump with a clean, straight punch
Futch Go get him, Joe
Frazier I’m ready boys, lets go
Futch This your destiny, boy, don’t forget it
THE CONCHORDIA FOLIO
“Its worth a pop, right, to try & knock that Shakespeare Off his feffin’ perch!”
Referee: Arthur Mercante Commentators: Archie Moore, Don Dunphy & Bert Lancaster Announcer: John Addie
Archie Moore The hour of truth for Ali has arrived & here he comes decamping in the ring Clad in a most beautiful red -white robe
Bert Lancaste With Angelo Dundee, Bundini Brown & Doctor Pechekio, what a night! Just listen to the fever of this crowd Anticipate of fabulous evening’s Boxing, fought out all corners of the globe Tell me Don, how does Ali look to you
Don Dunphy He looks wonderful
Bert Lancaster Yes
Archie Moore & very trim
Don Dunphy Would you say he’s psyched up
Archie Moore Yes, he looks it
Don Dunphy Here comes Joe Frazier, dress’d in Chinese jade Just listen to that roar of awesome notes The excitement here is monumental A spectacular evening this should be
Bert Lancaster In a first for heavyweight history We shall see two undefeated fighters Face-off in phrenzied combat
Archie Moore They both look Tremendous, Bert, & eager to begin
Enter John Addie
Bert Lancaster Here comes the announcer, Johny Addie
John Addie Good evening my ladies & gentleman Tonight there shall be up to fifteen rounds To become undisputed heavyweight Champion of the world, introducing From Louisville, Kentucky, in red trunks, The challenger, Muhammad Ali… His opponent, from Philadelphia, Wearing green trunks, heavyweight champion Of the World, Joe Frazier
Don Dunphy How do they look
Archie Moore I think Frazier is in best fighting trim While Ali’s in good shape, there’s a diff’rence Between such states, one laurels wins & one Looks on exhausted in the hard-churn’d dust
The referee, Arthur Mercante, brings the fighters together
Arthur Mercante Since this contest is for the ultimate Determination of the heavyweight Championship of the world, we hereby Ask proper attention paid to the rules By the World Boxing Commission foresworn In case of a knock down mandatory Eight counts will follow, & if in one round Three knock-downs receiv’d the fight then forfeit Break when I tell you to break… shake hands now, {They shake hands} Return to your corners
Don Dunphy We’re almost ready For the well named Fight of the Century Hundreds of millions across the globe Into the battle tuned, play’d out before A pack’d, boistrous Madison Square Garden.
BELL: start of round one
Archie Moore Frazier will try to pounce upon his man Ali may try a blitz – a good right hook He got in there – Frazier no longer feels The easy target he once used to be A-bobbing & a-weaving all the time He’s dangerous – his best punch is the jab When follow’d up by good combinations
Bert Lancaster Ali got tagg’d there
Archie Moore Yeah, strangely enough He’s not using the ring as in his youth He’s standing there with Frazier toe-to-toe & blow-to-blow
Don Dunphy He seems flat on his feet Not like the Muhammad Ali of old Three years ago Ali was a dancer Tonight he’s in a slugfest with Frazier Who fights just one way only, he bores in & punishes
BELL: end of round one
Bert Lancaster Thats the end of round one & one of the most exciting first rounds We’ve seen exceedingly in time’s long waltz
Don Dunphy Frazier is relentless – keeps moving in He hasn’t given Ali any room To move around & make the fight his own It seems as if Frazier’s making the fight
BELL: start of round two
Archie Moore Ali got in a good one two, Frazier Might have hurt a little bit by that punch
Don Dunphy Muhammad Ali cannot keep Frazier
Away from him, however, he’s scoring
Heavily
{Muhammad Ali connects 4 times}
Bert Lancaster Look at those rights, & those lefts
{Frazier says bring it on with a gesture}
Archie Moore Frazier’s taken a battering this round But every so often whips his left hook To body with a viscious certitude
Bert Lancaster This fight’s a dandy!
Don Dunphy Frazier has been hit By solid rights that would have easy fell’d Ordinary men
Archie Moore Beautiful left hook
Bert Lancaster Thus far that was the best punch in the fight
{Ali still shaking head}
Archie Moore But the champion deposed just shakes his head Reassuring his global idolators, Tossing it off with a scoff & a shrug
BELL: end of round two
Don Dunphy A beautiful round from Muhammad Exhibiting skillset magnificence & punching power harder than I’ve seen
Archie Moore There’ll be no question that if Ali wins He’ll be beating Frazier at his own game Don’t you think
Bert Lancaster Sure – the referee’s ready
BELL: start of round three
Don Dunphy And here we go again, tremendous stuff
Archie Moore Joe Frazier just spit blood – he is bleeding From inside his mouth, but drives undeterr’d Into the solid phalanx of his foe
Bert Lancaster This fight, so far, ranks with the greatest ones Again the refreee seperates them & tells them to stop talking
Archie Moore Look at that! Ali sent a few rockets Frazier’s way His longer reach while jabbing forms a fence Of steel his fierce opponent cannot pass
Bert Lancaster How many of those jabs can Frazier take?
Don Dunphy These are big rounds for the ex-champion
Bert Lancaster O what a jab by Frazier, Ali’s hurt
BELL: end of round three
Bert Lancaster Another tremendous round
Archie Moore Neither one Has ever fought such calibre they share Ali hit Joe with everything there is But Frazier is relentless, like a tank
Don Dunphy Here we go for number Four, Ali’s up Before the bell
BELL: start of round four
Bert Lancaster Frazier leaps to meet him
Don Dunphy Muhammad’s scoring heavily, his best Punch must be that whupping right undercut Up-piling tremendous numbers of points This stage of the game he is way ahead No question
Archie Moore But he could get discouraged Frazier keeps coming thro’ the battering Anyone else would have been on the floor
Bert Lancaster O what a punch from Joe! Ali buckles & another one
BELL: end of round four
Archie Moore Ali’s looking tired Frazier hit him with a fantastic punch
Bert Lancaster A great round, what a great round, the first half Was Ali’s all, then Frazier’s on a spin
Don Dunphy I think that round was Frazier’s overall
Archie Moore I do too, this fight a carousel Or roulette wheel, life’s certainties dismiss’d
BELL: start of round five
Don Dunphy Joe comes out bouncing
Archie Moore Muhammad Ali Was told to move more – he’s up on his toes For the first time tonight, but he was tagged
Bert Lancaster Ali’s dancing for the first time tonight But Frazier has caught him again, & says
Son, come on in & fight
Don Dunphy I love his jab
Archie Moore & now he mimicks Ali with a smile
Don Dunphy If anybody here’s psych’d, it aint Joe, He’s just laughing at him, talking to him Mirroring Muhammad Ali’s own taunts Against opponents thro’ his fervent youth
BELL: end of round five
Bert Lancaster what a round what a round, wow, what a round
Archie Moore Joe Frazier has taken the play away From Muhammad Ali
Don Dunphy I don’t know how Either man can bare these punishing wheels That pommel round in punches
Archie Moore Joe Frazier Looks like he’s trying to outpsyche Ali
Don Dunphy It certainly looks that way
Archie Moore Joe Frazier’s A man who keeps a great deal of anger Unto his opponent in heart entrench’d & now he’s really gonna make him pay
BELL: start of round 6
Bert Lancaster So we have reach’d Round Six, the very round Ali said he was gonna win the bout
Archie Moore But look, Ali’s grasping all the clinches & there’s another left hook from Frazier & another
Don Dunphy Those are wicked weapons
Archie Moore Frazier’s trying to end it with one punch & takes his turn to do the pot -shotting
Don Dunphy The scoring’s gonna be interesting Frazier’s now the agressor, that will count A great deal for his corner if the fight Endures the full fifteen`
Archie Moore Perhaps it won’t I get the feeling they are tiring now Ali’s almost a sitting duck at times
{Ali shakes his head after being punched suggesting it was nothing – the whole fight freezes}
Ali God told me the sixth
Frazier God can’t help you now I aint going nowhere – you got your lunch?
BELL: end of round six
Don Dunphy Thats the round over, Ali did not score A knockdown to fulfil his prophesy
Bert Lancaster Joe Frazier was relentless, relentless Just pouring it on in there, he’s murder Among the toughest men you’ll ever see
BELL: start of round seven
Archie Moore It looks like Bundini’s talk’d to Ali Who starts to hold Joe off at a distance
Don Dunphy This has to be maybe the most torrid Heavyweight title fight of all time long
Bert Lancaster & again Arthur Addie tells Ali Stop putting those gloved hands around Joe’s neck
Archie Moore There is a lot more holding in this round
Bert Lancaster Ali is scoring with those solid jabs & Frazier might be wading in fatigue
BELL: end of round seven
Don Dunphy Round Seven is over, what a great round
Archie Moore Absolutely terrific
Bert Lancaster Ali seems Disgusted with himself
Archie Moore He might be tired
Don Dunphy He’s having a tough night handling Frazier Would you be willing, Archie, to agree
Archie Moore I’d say he’s slowly running out of steam
{The crowd begin to cheer Ali’s name – he acknowledges them}
Bert Lancaster The crowd is bursting lungwind to Ali
Archie Moore Joe’s summoning Ali to come & fight The bell hasn’t sounded
BELL: start of round eight
Archie Moore There it is – round eight
Don Dunphy Both men project a splendid condition No question they are athletes absolute
Bert Lancaster Joe Frazier took command at that moment
Archie Moore Now Ali starts to pile up points with jabs
Bert Lancaster Joe looks like he’s in a training session
Archie Moore His punching blows are short but punishing Some land on elbows but some pierce the shield
Don Dunphy Ali’s on the ropes, his pitter patter Punches making miniscule returns
Archie Moore & talking still
Bert Lancaster Wow, look at Joe Frazier Lit’rally dragging Ali from the ropes
Archie Moore I don’t know one soul who shares the sheer joy Of combat the way that Joe Frazier does
BELL: end of round eight
{Ali cheekily scuffs Frazier’s cheek after bell rings}
Bert Lancaster So, Archie, what do you think of all that
Archie Moore I think Ali is as tired as a siege Trying his optimum to needle Joe Who in his turn has barely won a wince Of pain
Don Dunphy For me Ali’s took a whuppin
Bert Lancaster I don’t know how this fight will distance flow
Don Dunphy Its possible that one or both of them Could punch out strength before the final bell But like you say these boys share condition Of most marvellous physicalty
Archie Moore The crowd, I sense, definitively chang’d At first they were shouting Ali! Ali! & now they’re all shouting Go Joe! Go joe!
BELL: start of round nine
Don Dunphy & here they go again
Archie Moore Its the ninth round of a fifteen-rounder
Bert Lancaster Frazier is the freshest without question
Archie Moore You must remember this in the scoring Mohammad Ali has been making most Of the clinches, such will count against him
In the scoring
Don Dunphy He’s broke off exchanges More often than not, but he’s also scored Some devastating blows across Joe’s head
Archie Moore Frazier’s bobbing & weaving like crazy Itching to let that lethal left hook fly But taking punches all the time he hunts
Bert Lancaster Ali has moved on to the ropes again O what a punch
Archie Moore That was a wicked punch
Bert Lancaster A brilliant punch
Archie Moore Look at Ali’s legs
Don Dunphy Frazier connects again!
Bert Lancaster Ali staggers!
Archie Moore He seems to be punish’d by troubles now
Don Dunphy Wait, what is this, he throws out wild right hands & somehow seems to steady on his feet
Bert Lancaster What a fighter – what a fight – what delight!
Archie Moore Ali is coming back, drums up reserves From some deep cave no man alive has seen
BELL: end of round nine
Bert Lancaster What a show!
Archie Moore That’s the best round for Ali Especially integrating that hook
Don Dunphy That was a round of clear desperation
Archie Moore Joe looks like he’s tiring, Ali looks fresh Don’t you think Don
Don Dunphy Ali has summon’d up Hidden reserves upon the verge of doom
Bert Lancaster What a battle, what a pace, what a race Archie, have you ever seen speed like this Combat relentless, a beautiful thing
Archie Moore I think of Henry Armstrong, only he Could keep this kinda pace up, but for two Big heavy boys like these, remarkable
BELL: start of round ten
Archie Moore Round ten is here – its scheduled for fifteen Now lets see how this Viking punishment Verging on the torture of Blood Eagles Has effected Joe Frazier in his head
Don Dunphy He’s probably been told to stay in close To nullify that long range of Ali
Archie Moore We shall see who draws the most benefit From that minute’s rest
Bert Lancaster I dont think you’ll see Joe Frazier stood in the middle again Just trading punches
Don Dunphy Frazier is grunting When he goes driving in with those punches
Archie Moore Ali looks tired again, but that could be Deceitful, that uppercut was lovely
Bert Lancaster Frazier tries to pin Ali on the ropes & takes a heap of punishment en route
Don Dunphy Ali is coming back at Joe with heart & strength & brutal beauty, to defy Whatever his opponent might muster
Archie Moore Frazier’s taking that battering again
BELL: end of round ten
Don Dunphy Another great round & another great round Incidentally for Ali, I feel He’s come back with combatative beauty & stunning combinations to astound
{Crowd compete between Ali! Ali! & Lets Go Joe}
Fighters: Joe Frazier (champion), Muhammad Ali
Referee: Arthur Mercante Commentators: Archie Moore, Don Dunphy & Bert Lancaster are the commentators Announcer: John Addie
BELL: start of round eleven
{Muhammad Ali slips}
Archie Moore No knock down, no knock down
Don Dunphy Ali slipp’d there
Bert Lancaster They both look tired
Archie Moore Joe’s got him on the ropes & trying hard to land that lethal shot
Bert Lancaster Muhammad is talking to him again
Don Dunphy I would say there’s not much happening now
Archie Moore Frazier has gotten wild
Don Dunphy Yes he has lost Timings immaculate from earlier His rhythm has evaporated too
Archie Moore But that one hurt, & that one, so did that Ali’s against the ropes with a stagger
Bert Lancaster He has been rock’d & holds on desp’rately
Archie Moore There’s thirty seconds to go in the round
Don Dunphy Muhammad Ali is in real trouble
BELL: end of round eleven
Bert Lancaster The round is over, the round is over What a round!
Archie Moore Ali was almost out there
Don Dunphy Joe Frazier clobber’d him with everything Downwritten in the book of boxing lore
Archie Moore Angelo Dundee is on the warpath Berating Ali inbetween the rounds With speeches of living inspiration
Bert Lancaster He needs it by his trophy’s withering
Don Dunphy Ali stands on the verge of first defeat
BELL: start of round twelve
Archie Moore Its round twelve – Frazier ‘s gone out there swiftly
Bert Lancaster Well who thought it would go this far
Archie Moore Ali Tries to fight back gamely – but sees quite spent Joe Frazier’s lookin’ pretty spent as well
Don Dunphy He’s smartly going to the body now He’s getting in some wicked body licks
Bert Lancaster Muhammad Ali is missing punches & Frazier’s smiling, laughing at the gusts
Archie Moore This could be a very tough fight to score
BELL: end of round twelve
Archie Moore That round was a tremendous duel again Ali has made an undoubted come back From somebody who was out on his feet The round before he seem’d as fresh as dew
Don Dunphy But now he’s tired, look how his corner works With phrenetical medical fury
BELL: start of round thirteen
Bert Lancaster Its round thirteen & they’ve come out scrapping
Archie Moore Those punches conduct all of Alis pow’r & must be hurting Joe
Don Dunphy Both should expect To give out mammoth pain takes mammoth pains
Archie Moore The biggest crown in the world is at stake The Heavyweight Championship
Don Dunphy It is & Ali seems to be on his way back He’s piling up the points
Archie Moore For a tired man These moments he boxes beautifuly
Bert Lancaster It seems Frazier has let him get away After the leviathan eleventh
Archie Moore But look that lovely left hook hurt Ali
Don Dunphy This is such a tremendous slugging match & in an instant turns the onslaught’s tide
Archie Moore Ali’s no room if Frazier stays on top
BELL: end of round thirteen
Don Dunphy Round 13 is over, & what a round! Joe Frazier’s got to be some kind of man With combinations Ali hit him hard Of every kind a boxer could think of Not once, not twice, not three times, & not four, But five or six
Archie Moore But that’s made Ali tired
Bert Lancaster Joe just keeps on going relentlessly He has more power & more stamina Than anybody I have ever seen Don’t you think so Archie,
Archie Moore I think so too & whatever happens he’s still ready To go out again
BELL: start of round fourteen
Archie Moore & yes there he goes
Don Dunphy Its round fourteen of a fifteen rounder
Archie Moore A wicked punch by the ex champion
Bert Lancaster Stop holding says the referee
Archie Moore Ali Is doing the holding, stalling for time
Don Dunphy Remember in the scoring Muhammad Ali’s been making most of the clinches While dealing out most of the punishment Frazer is very puffy round the eyes Implanted by tremendous jabs & hooks
Archie Moore Joe’s right eye looks might be closing
BELL: end of round fourteen
Bert Lancaster The end of round fourteen & yet again In three fast minutes we’ve witness’d greatness
Archie Moore Now if you look over at Joe’s corner There’s seeming something wronging with his face & now wears a welt of enormous size
Don Dunphy Back in Round Eleven Ali seem’d out But he is now amazingly reborn
Archie Moore Stronger & stronger he grew in that round & proven to a whole lot of people He could come back as always he’s declar’d
BELL: start of round fifteen
Bert Lancaster Right, this is the final round of the fight & what a fight its been
Don Dunphy Perhaps the best
Bert Lancaster Ali is down!
Archie Moore What a punch!
Don Dunphy Watch the time!
Archie Moore Ali takes the mandatory eight-count
Bert Lancaster That was the only knock down of the fight
Archie Moore Muhammad Ali was flat on his back But, he is a well-conditioned athlete
Don Dunphy Frazier’s smartly going for the body Forcing Ali to cover in defence
Archie Moore Needless to say the crowd is in bedlam
Don Dunphy Woah ! what a shot – if Joe would have followed Up that fierce blow up this bout would be finish’d
Archie Moore Muhammad Ali has never taken Such a battering as brutal as this But might unleash a last minute flurry
Don Dunphy Indeed, he is fighting back most gamely
Bert Lancaster Frazier looks tried & his eyes are closing
Archie Moore There’s only half a minute now to go Frazier has won the bigest rounds by far
Bert Lancaster Ten seconds, five seconds, & there it is
FINAL BELL
Archie Moore Some of the best punches I’ve ever seen Were flowers in the gardens of that brawl
Bert Lancaster Thro’ fifteen rounds full arsenal each employ’d Small arms to nuclear megatonnage
Frazier slumps in his corner / the ring fills with people, the crowd chanting Joe – Joe – Joe
Don Dunphy There’s people in the ring, its a bedlam
Bert Lancaster Everybody’s waiting the decision
Johnny Adie collects cards from judges & steps into the ring with a microphone
Johnny Adie Ladies & gentlemen, here’s the result Referee Arthur Mcanty scores it For Frazier eight-six, Bill Recht has nine-six & Artie Aidala eleven-four & so the winner I can now announce & by a unanimous decision & still the world’s heavyweight champion Joe Frazieeeeer – lets get in to talk to him
Archie Moore Its Joe Frazier – for the first ever time Muhammad Ali has been beaten, wow!
Don Dunphy Joe Frazier looks so spent, but has just scor’d The greatest victory of his career Of anyone’s career
Bert Lancaster It does not look As if he’d like to take an interview But only seeks the solace of his rooms
Archie Moore Wait, he’s trying to get to Muhammad
Frazier {yelling to Ali} I want him over here – he gotta crawl On the floor to my victorious feet Why won’t Ali crawl, I want him to crawl
Johnny Adie PLEASE EVERYBODY GET OUT OF THE RING
Bert Lancaster Ali’s angry, he thinks he’s won the fight
Archie Moore It is a wild scene Bert
Bert Lancaster Ali was spent If anything was left in Frazier’s tank He would have certainly knock’d Ali out
Don Dunphy It was a fine fight, about that no doubt
Archie Moore I think in the final anyalsis What might have influenc’d the decision What might have weaken’d Muhammad Ali In reckonings of judges was his holds, Where’s agression in defensive clinches In New York State they like to see fighters Lead by the front foot, act willing to fight
Don Dunphy It was close, but Frazier own’d the big rounds, The monumentous ones – & the knock-down
A badly batter’d Joe Frazier is in a hospital bed, unconscious. At his bedside is Marvin. A female nurse & a male porter are outside the room, watching Frazier through a window.
Porter Well there it is, in black & blue, Ali’s The greatest fighter e’er to walk this Earth,
Nurse You been taking your patients’ drugs again? Joe Frazier will be shinin’ soon enough Knowing he’s number one, your ‘Greatest’ down’d With the most elegant punch ever see Ali’s just a ropeboy in a cradle While Frazier’s a fighter, a real fighter
Enter Muhammad Ali
Ali Frazier’s not a great boxer, but that thing He got going, he sure is great at that
Porter Champ!
Ali Don’t call me champ, for he’s the champ now
Porter How ya feeling’
Ali My jaw is killing me
Porter Not physically, I mean, but up here
Ali Whats the big deal, its just a fight that’s all I just got paid two-point-five million For having my ass whupp’d
Nurse Dat good money
Enter Dr. James Giuffre & Dr Ferdie Pacheco
Dr. James Giuffre Muhammad Ali, its a great pleasure, & a great fight, a classic one could say As much a worth of art as French ballet In style & structure a liturgical Ritual of accidental beauty To watch the two of you in contention, The killing ground of immortal fighters, Then see you slammin’ canvas made me feel Just as I did when Doctor King was shot Tonight the bad guys won, or so it seem’d I too oppose the war, & your defeat Intensified into personal loss
Ali I will be back to right this royal wrong, Can count on it like summer runs from spring
Dr Jones I sure do hope to see you champ again But in the meantime…
Ali Of course
Dr. James Giuffre Nurse Johnson…
Dr. James Giuffre enters Frazier’s room with the Nurse
Dr Pacheco Your X-rays say ya gonna be OK But best to rest, to stay in overnight & shoo away exhaustion’s wolfen claw Which could the dangerous wound yet inflict
Ali I sure am tired, one helluva fight, right? But I sure aint stayin’ in overnight I want it unrecorded the days Of future poets writing songs & plays That Smokin’ Joe did plant me in the wards No! I’m goin’ back to the New Yorker To lick these wounds & contemplate my fate Don’t worry Ferdie, my beloved friend, We aint thro’ yet
Porter So what happen’d tonight?
Dr Pacheco It was astonishing to say the least I’ve never rated Frazier in the ring
Ali Me neither, but my jaw says different
Dr Pacheco Ya lucky that it aint broken brother
Porter Well I never saw it coming myself
Ali As I, too – I got so big I became Intoxicated with so-call’d ‘greatness’ Thinkin’ I’d only need three miles a day Of runnin’ for the fight, I did not try As hard as I once did, convinc’d myself I’d get by my talents natural That would have simply prosper’d on the night With princely prowess & a kingly claim!
Marvin emerges from the room with the nurse, visibily upset
Marvin What you do to my daddy Muhammad
Ali Hey, son, calm down… how’s yer daddy doin’
Marvin Ehm – ehm
Ali Look, what I said before the fight It wasn’t real, I respect Joe Frazier He’s just another brother workin’ hard His family to feed, a genuine Fella in the swamps of ungenuine
Marvin I don’t think my daddy can hear my voice
Ali He will, son, & soon – where ya goin’ now
Marvin To get some candy
Nurse Let me come with you
Exit Marvin & Nurse /Ali looks crestfallen through the window at Frazier / Dr. James Giuffre emerges
Ali How is he
Dr. James Giuffre He was very close to death The pressure of his blood could rockets raise His face spasming into bloody pulp He was very close to death The pressure of his blood could rockets raise Stratosphere’d one-sixty over ninenty
Ali Is that bad
Dr. James Giuffre Yeah, it should be one-twenty, While see that inflammation of the eye Its practically an island
Ali It looks bad How’s his retina – has it been detach’d As with Leotis Martin
Dr. James Giuffre That is just rumour, his eyes are intact With a healing period undisturb’d All ends well should
Ali Don’t tell him I was here
Exit Ali
Porter Wow
Dr. James Giuffre Yeah, something else aint it
Porter It sure is
Dr. James Giuffre Dont think we’ll ever see a fight as good As that, they fought tonight like stallions Enraged
Porter This century aint over yet & the seventies have only just begun
Exit Porter & Dr. James Giuffrein different directions / part one ends with poignant music & Frazier in a deep sleep, on his own in his bed
Joe Frazier & the Knockouts are performing at the Winterland venue – Frazier sings a medley;
Repertoire Knock On Wood Like a Knock-Out drop First Round Knock Out They Bigger They Come
Frazier So that’s all folks, tomorrow morn, y’see, Joe Frazier & The Knockouts, this brave band Take venture of a European tour Endeavouring the chance to have some fun To see the world, sharing a native song We don’t expect to set the world alight But I’ve loved singing all my lucky life & singing’s harder far than boxing’s art But easy seems in Cisco, what a crowd Appreciation is the spur of art Without a Renaissance would Raphael Ever have deliver’d godframed visions Without the operas of Vienna Wold ever have Herr Mozart humm’d a tune No, not at all, without an audience Each War in Peace is merely book of of words & so, wheree’erso in this world we go, We’ll always take a slice of you guys with, Our thanks to all who came, & good night all.
Scene 2: Dublin
A TV Studio / enter the presenter, Cathal O’Shannon
Cathal Pugilist & poet, King of the Hype With his rhetoric he makes the ring ring Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee Just mentioning his name starts great debates Is he super boxer or superstar The most talk’d about human in the world Where no mortal is more synonymous With sport than who proclaims he’s the greatest & maybe he is – certainly I will Not be arguing with him about that – Deliver him an All Irish welcome Ladies… Gentlemen.. Muhammad Ali!
Enter Muhammad Ali
Cathal Welcome to Dublin
Ali Its nice to be here
Cathal You look fit, certainly, still training hard?
Ali Well, yeah, since my last bout with Joe Frazier I’ve fought a lot of fighters, I’ve just box’d Jerry Quarry, I’m active & ready A contender should stay in contention The new tramp, oops, I mean champ, Joe Frazier Been doin’ diddly squat, seven months rest Between each fight, battling people even You could beat, Cathal; no, I gotta keep The fighting game alive, fibres of fate Entwine with the spirit of Champions & haunt them with a braying restlessness.
Cathal Your Fight of the Century saw perform Two champions – I notic’d Joe Frazier’s Unquantifiable combination Of youth, desire & ability true, While for yourself all the public hatred You had chaperon’d burst furiously, When even your detractors show’d respect
Ali Begrudgingly, yes
Cathal You said you’d retire If you lost, but of course you’ve kept going Why so?
Ali I thought about it once or twice But then, one evening, when watching my wife Give our baby milk thro’ tears & wailstrife Whose holerings could wake the frozen dead Expecting milk the moment cries lunge forth Ten years from now my baby’s gonna be Just ten years old, needing money for school Sweets, books & busfare; parties, games & clothes My daughter, too, on her turning twenty She gonna need a house, I won’t see her Working in a diner, people will say Look at Ali’s daughters – born in riches But given beeswings like the rest of us I’ve still got an mighty punch left in me Next time we meet I’ll knock Joe Frazier out & then I’ll face your Irish champion & knock him out the same
{LAUGHTER}
Ali I got a laugh
Cathal You’re in Ireland
Ali So if I can save up Two million dollars, how much is that
Cathal About eight hundred thousand pounds, I think
Ali So, if I can save a million pounds I can relax, can sleep at ease at night For now its gonna take a lot of work & one has gotta work hard – nobody Gives you anything, right
Cathal Right, so tell me Upon your loss to Frazier, what passions Envelop’d cognitive recollections
Ali Well, you tell me, people who saw the fight Will say I claim’d the laurels of most rounds Especially those understanding boxing & all its clever nuances unseen By casual spectators of the sport I know I lost two rounds, I’ll say as much – In the eleventh he shook me real bad & then, of course, that knockdown in fifteen, But all the time, for every once he struck I’d offer four firm blows of equal mein, So terrible the whupping what he got He spent a weary month in hospital Pain’d by intensive treatment, while myself I look’d the same but for a swollen jaw Which faded soon, no features distorted Unlike Joe – one judge was so outrageous He cough’d up Frazier’d won eleven rounds Any boxing fan across the planet Would deem impossible I’d just won four
Cathal So, you’re hoping to fight Frazier again
Ali Of course I am, but first he gotta come Out of his hidey hole, dya know he bought Some plantation deep in Alabama, & started rearing chickens, what a joke
Cathal How do you rate his skills as a boxer
Ali He slugs good, yes, but shames the boxer’s art I’ve even got a better voice than him He was in Ireland recently, singing That right?
Cathal He came here touring with his band Joe Frazier & the Knock-outs was the name
Ali I understand he only drew eighty In twenty-thousand seater arenas
Cathal He did a little better over here & drew about a thousand
Ali If I play’d That same venue, it would capacitate Now let us speak of mirth & stint all this Who told Joe Frazier he could even sing There is music to boxing, I grant this But gladiator’s never played the harp
Cathal But did you not the chords joytwang yourself On Broadway
Ali I was in a musical Titl’d ‘Big Time Buck Wright’ – altho’ the play Never made it, I was a great success The New York critics said I was perfect So yeah, I beat Joe Frazier singing too
Cathal Could you prove it to the Irish people
Ali Sure I can – it would be a great honour This is a land of song, of Galway pipes & Dublin ditties sang by pretty girls If its alright to enter your circle I have a poem set in music’s field
Cathal What is it all about
Ali A man’s true name I’ve found mine own? its Muhammad Ali, Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee Cocky, loquacious, fit for greatness born, Fourth generational Kentucky slave Root to the fruit, along paths of purpose I trod, & knew I must discard the chains Of given names ingrain’d with hard labour As such was Cassius Marcellus Clay’s Continuation of a day’s routine, Of degradation, drudgery & death, My cheeks deep-claw’d, flow’d tears of blood on each, Whene’er I heard those cursed words, each time A spike of horror in my mind! no more! I have set myself free from tvile bondage Possessing such a slave name doth entail, Into the hinterlands of history It has been cast, deep flung, with full disgust, As from the vaults of heaven came the next Unshackl’d from all racist crudetie, Muhammad means ‘worthy of most praises,’ Whilst Ali means most high
Cathal Quite beautiful In sound & meaning, so can you tell us Of Islamica what attracted first
Ali Many perks, but salient among them Is pride, some would say love, for given names; The Chinese have Chang-Chong; & the Russians Have Kruschev, Karpov, Korchnoi, Kasparov; You have your Kennedys, Your O’Gradys; The Jews have their Goldbergs, their Feigenbaums; Africans Manbongo & Lamubo; But American Blacks, tho’ thro’ their blood – Do torrents of the Congo Falls hard flow – Are nothing now but a whitewash’d negro With names like Hawkins, Johnson, Smith & Clay… Muhammad is a beautiful Black name & I do say it proudly
Cathal As you may & few on Earth dare test your stern resolve In any sphere, even the Supreme Court Has bended to thy will, & set aside The orders that tore you from your title
Ali Let me tell you, Dermot, about my case At first I was a thankless Antichrist A draft-dodging antiwhite terrorist, Helpless as fair won title stripp’d away But nothing stops the ceaseless wheel of time What hums with life soon crumples in the dust, & something chang’d in America’s psyche, Whose criminals now those who go to war, Whose conscience is the ones who found my gloves Classified conscientious objector & I’ll soon fight again, we boxing sort Must stay in port to make a patent pay
Cathal Well, we cannot wait to hear your new song Ladies, Gentlemen, Muhammad Ali, Singing ‘Whats in a name’
Ali Thank you Cathal
IN THE NAME OF FREEDOM
I found the freedom to do what I wanna do The sum of patience & reason to think things thro No longer under the rainclouds of painful confusion That our socety’s under & so I start to suggest that you do the same There’s so much freedom in losing you chosen name & when you’re choosing your own hang it up in a frame That the world will look up to & wonder
Listen to me, I’m Muhammad Ali I’m Beloved of God You wanna be free from this state fakery Switch your old life off I’m Beloved of God
George Foreman is stood in the street chatting to two white girls, Sandy & Lucy
Lucy This body you possess, Mr Foreman Flows pectorially perfect, Sandy Place your hands here with pressure’s lightsome flight Touching this point, feeling tectonic force Upheaving from Earth’s core into this heart Which beats the smelt of blood as if the drums Of war did thunder oer Montana’s plains
Sandy {feeling Foreman’s chest} Hmm – Hmm – why, that is a wonderful thing
Lucy How often do you train, Mr Foreman
Foreman George, girls, call me George, why every day
Sandy But not all day, tell us about your nights
Lucy Do you have time for play before you sleep For we love playful funtimes after dark
Sandy Tonight the both of us have nothing on
Lucy Would you like to see us with nothing on
Enter Policeman
Policeman Excuse me ladies, is he troubling you
Lucy Not at all officer
Foreman They came to me
Sandy Its George Foreman, the boxer,
Lucy We’re big fans
Sandy So what are you gonna do officer, Arrest him for being to good looking I’d leave my white husband in an instant For half an hour of passion with this man
Policeman You’d better move along ladies, right now
Lucy But
Policeman I said move it
Lucy See you later George
Policeman Move it, move it, I’m watching you Foreman Famous boxer or no you’re just a nigger to me
Foreman & all the Confederacy A century has pass’d since Gettysburg Destroyd satanic tangents down which slaves Driven by shameful, disgraceful mutants Sir, this is now nineteen seventy two & Civil Rights permit my right to claim Your use of nigger as a deep offence But.. I’ll forgive you for your ignorance Education beats humilation
Policeman What you call me boy, you want some of this {Foreman squares off to him / the Policeman spits} I’m watching you
Foreman & I’m watching you leave
BLACK POWER
From civil rights by candlelight In guru kinda places To rubbing wax on caddilacs To put them thro their paces Gonna drive round town with my hood down Saying fuck you to the racists
There’s black power running thro’ my beat Feel the freedom in my feet See me rising in the street Black Power
Well here’s my fist & here’s a list Of all my consternations Its been two strides forward one drag back Since our emancipation In brotherhood our mothers’ blood Defines us as one nation
There’s black power running thro’ my beat Feel the freedom in my feet See me rising in the street Black Power
Let it roll thro my soul We are fast & we are strong Gonna fight the past, gon right the wrong Cos there’s black power running thro my vein Lionesses stroke my mane Watching white men on the wane Black Power Back power running thro’ my beat Feel the freedom in my feet Gon see us rising in the street
Exit Policeman, Lucy & Sandy / enter Don King
King Powerful song from a powerful man
Foreman What
King Allow me to introduce myself My name is King, Don King, a businessman
Foreman So, what’s your business
King Boxing promotion I see an opportunity in thee Whose supreme being fills me with intent To send your essence thro’ the wider world I’ve never seen such miracles of strength Credibility crowning performance Your foes disintegrating at your gaze
Foreman What are you saying
King Joe Frazier
Foreman Frazier?!
King He says he’ll fight you if the price is right
Foreman I aint ready for Joe
King Sure you are, Three hundred & seventy five thousand Fills me with thy possible transcendence
Foreman How much?
King Its by Jamaica guaranteed Shewing a world beyond America Where black men making money never hear Their genius defam’d as crooked wiles
Foreman I still don’t know, Joe’s scary, that left hook Which floor’d Ali with pristine precision Still haunts my soul, I seen it sixty times When as long as Frazier’s the heavyweight Champion of the world, I got no chance
King Son, undeliver your defeatism, It is the boxer’s business to be more, Not less, than man… with thee I dig deep faith Joe Frazier boxes like an old blind man Tapping his stick around for one good punch, But with that reach of yours he won’t get close For eagerly astounded I have been By all your battles’ rich abilities
Foreman I guess when I lay my fists on these guys It feels as if Archdruid I’ve became Wielding a blade temper’d in dragonsbreath
King Less druid, more Adonis fully-form’d Thou art as marvelous a specimen As might be found in all our Human rolls To never flinch at challengers the print Of champions, Frazier picks no-hopers, Beats with them ease, thus his force is dulling, Straining the lack sharpness from his mind, Yet what an abundant promise of wealth Ticks in your heart, & you’ve got hunger too
Foreman Nevertheless his fighting’s infernal, He’s never lost a bout, & beat Ali, Whose ‘Greatest’ egotag fair ratified
King That fight with Ali left Joe Frazier spent As if he’d won the Kentucky Derby Destin’d to never run so fast again Sithen he has continued as a barge Cruises canals of glass tranquility, While favourites can fall if they refuse To scout ahead all fences in a race Before it run – he’s never seen you fight, Or if he has fairly unfancies thee, But I don’t, George, I think you’re fantastic
Foreman You really want me to fight Joe Frazier
King I do, brother, the contract ready form’d & by the lord in Heaven preordain’d
Foreman OK – I’ll read it
King The world is waiting To crown its next heavyweight champion
Foreman I’ll let you know tonight what I’ll decide Come meet me in that diner over there At seven o’ clock
King Sure, I will be there
Foreman O & Mr King, thank you very much
King You know it makes sense, lets make some money & bend this exhibition to the bout
Exit Don King – Foreman starts to analyse the contract
Scene 4: Vernon
The Great Gorge Playboy Club: Joe Frazier is relaxing with a newspaper eating his breakfast / enter Hugh Hefner
Hefner Morning Joe
Frazier Good morning Mr Heffner
Hefner Do call me Hugh, so how is your breakfast
Frazier This sausages & bacon taste sublime
Hefner Only the best at the Playboy Hotel Twenty million dollar luxury Salubrious among the Vernon hills, The Sinatras, Harry Belafonte Have play’d, Dean Martin, Duke Ellington too Our entertainment’s Vegas, food gourmet, Our famous pool’s fit for Olympians, There’s twenty seven holes of sterling golf, Jacuzzis & spas &…
Frazier Its magical, Hugh, But a strange place to train, all these bunnies Bouncing about my body & my brain The very antithesis of Sparta
Hefner To see our newly-form’d facilities Put to the test by a man such as you Redeems the validation of my dream You are the world Champion after all How long, & for free, would you care to stay At the Great Gorge?
Frazier Well, I’ve been here a week I’d like to reside another ten days It would have been longer but for the snow I need to run, you see, for stamina Atlantic City’s where I’ll burn those miles
Hefner Seems like you’re training harder for Foreman Than Roy stander & Terry Daniels
Frazier Well I would say yeah, not because of Foreman, But I’ve been out a little longer, dig George is young & strong, he’s a big fella Who’ll try out all the tricks in book & box To take that title
Hefner What about that size He’ll tower over you as did Ali
Frazier Well, I got all the remedy for that I’ll get underneath & keep myself low As much as possible, while otherwise I’ve got a new thing for him, you’ll see me Hitting George with a host of jabs this time
Hefner His reach is long, you don’t mind getting hit
Frazier I do mind getting hit, but its a game Y’know what I mean, if you go out there You expect to get hit – I dont worry About tiring, I know can take it, But only time does tell what will happen & I’m getting myself together well, But fear is absent from my agile thoughts He swings too wide, I’ll teach him a lesson Like all those other guys before my fists He’s never felt the clipfull rough of hurt & yeah, what he did to George Chuvalo Ruffl’d a fly surprisement – but I got Too much command of motion in that ring To see no other outcome but a win
Hefner & then you are ya gonna fight Muhammad He’s still the first pretender to your crown
Frazier The Number One Contender, who’s he fought Some bruis’d up boys I’ve already beaten Ali was floor’d, while Foreman’s never lost But when I slay him in a flash of sweat Another tilt I’ll give to Ali, sure & next time knock him out
Hefner I’m sure you will
Frazier That nigger makes me mad as murderers Hes really only in it for the dough Y’know, some times he calls me up at night Spittin’ ‘we’re big & bad, why don’t we fight & carping all the while about the purse While preaching to the world I aint no good
Hefner I guess you gotta wait til the four-square To shut his puss
Frazier Yeah – I just don’t like him
Enter Kitty, a waitress, carrying a breakfast tray
Kitty Here you are, Mr Frazier, your breakfast
Frazier Can I get another pot of coffee
Kitty Of course, Mr Frazier
Hefner Thank-you Kitty {Exit Kitty} My girls think you’re cute
Frazier I’m a married man Mr Heffner
Hefner She’s a lucky woman Amidst this siren sensuality You’re still obsessed with boxing
Frazier That’s my bag But as for Cassius Clay, give me five Months off after Foreman, then I’ll fight him
Hefner I hope such things transpire as you predict For now I am a Frazier man, to see Strength temper’d by tender humility Cast in a lamp of powerful illume, I’ll blink in wonder at thy mighty light, But please excuse my lowly sycophance There’s business to attend to, & my girls – Enjoy your day, we can meet this evening For dinner with my Bunnies, if you’ll wish
George Foreman is training for the Sunshine Showdown / a musical interlude / Foreman is Shadowboxing (hooks, jabs, uppercuts)/ at the Punch bag with Eddie Futch & Yank Durham / Skipping / Push-ups / Sparring / Enter Bryant Gumble & a cameraman
Bryant This is Bryant Gumble, NBC News George Foreman is here in Los Angeles Publicizing his January fight With Joe Frazier next year in Jamaica He’s looking strong, an athlete in good shape, So George, can we stop you for a minute
George stops training
Bryant George, how fares thoughts on your fight upcoming With Frazier
Foreman Mine opportunity knocks But this is not his opportunity That’s my big advantage – he’s had his chance & dines, now, with kings, queens & presidents But with nineteen seventy three drawn nigh That year might well be my mine, my time to shine, That’s the opportunity, intend I To take advantage of it, I aint had Much television like this, I want this, He’s tired of it, makes fame an every day Occurrence, but not me, this is my time
Bryant Does it upset you, does it bother you When people belittle your skills, & say You’ve fought with failures, skittl’d nobodies
Frazier No, not really, it depends whom utters Are you saying that
Bryant No
Foreman Well, alright then I like to think that every time i fight I go out to make all my opponents Look like nothing, & I hope Joe Frazier Goes down in likewise manner, like the rest
Bryant Thanks George
Foreman You’re welcome
Foreman returns to training
Bryant Foreman’s fresh & good – Since Ali, Frazier has only fought twice & both of those opponents nobodies Unless he’s ready Joe’ll have quite a fight Upon his hands in Jamaica, next year; I’ve been Bryant Gumble, NBC news
Exit Bryant / Foreman stops training
Foreman I’m really gonna have to do it now But how the hell am I gonna beat him
Futch Well, he is a very clever boxer & smart enough to win the world entire Protecting the button he hides his chin Behind fantastic defences, if chin Feels unassailable, ignore it plain, Use your height & hit him on his headtop
Durham I don’t think there’s nothing to worry on He’s far too nonchalant, he’s gone too soft Fancy clothes, cadillacs & chevrolets
Futch One of them’s a thirty-four
Foreman I seen it
Durham A swimming pool shap’d like a boxing glove By four hundred thousand dollars of home Such trappings of success an ancient trap When warriors prefer women & wine & hearths & rugs instead of open fields, Then they’ll soon miss the missile in the fray
Foreman But everything you’d never want to face In boxing Frazier’s got
Futch I’d do the same But better – if he tries to move in close Stop him, block him, get out of the way Then when he’s open pulverize & pound
Durham Easy
Foreman I wish I felt your confidence A tougher cookie I aint ever seen With vicious left hooks and rights to the side He’s buzzsaw, giant killer, a machine, Aint lost a fight since nineteen sixty four To Buster Mathis at the Flushing trials & has since decimated the divison
Futch But you succeeded Frazier’s golden torc & you have never lost a single fight
Durham Just keep going George, we believe in you
Futch Yeah, back to work, pick up that skipping rope
Scene 6: New York
Press conference / Enter Don King, Joe Frazier, George Foreman, Archie Moore stands by Foreman’s shoulder / Journalists 1,2 & 3 are present
King Well, thank you all for coming here today The Sunshine Showdown’s glowing in the dawn O! what a day loaded in store for thee & what a night of boxing out Kingston, Jamaica, this January comingm Whose arena of forty-two thousand Stack’d rafter-pack’d above two boxers sees Joe Frazier, the champion, George Foreman, The Challenger; today they gonna sign The contracts, but first, boys, lets see those fists… I’m gonna call on Mister Joe Frazier To say a few words, Joe
Frazier Good afternoon, About George I’m not gonna say too much For as you know my own lip-rapping skills Aint so great, you know how it is, no mouth Run-offer, like some people that we know {Laughter} Because of one particular reason I’m stoked to bits this fight is coming off For me & George are in the fighting game For fighting aint no politician thing, When sportsmen go off rapping, that aint right, The ring no place to showcase opinions Other than that which settles whose fought best, & so, I feel this fight should entertain, While George tries to strip away my title I’ll do my very best to keep it close
King Thanks Joe, so George, some words you wanna say?
Foreman I don’t wanna be as modest as Joe For he’s already proved himself a king I gotta get out here to preach & brag & big me up & let you people think I’m a monkey or something, so all yous Can come along & see me do something I want all the people in this country Complaisant with all planetary parts To light their eyes upon this special fight I know myself it shall be mighty brawl An evening when George Foreman will declare Wars on Joe’s bones, & that’s a definite!
Crowd Right On
Frazier Most people suggest a fighter Loses his legs ascending certain age But now my legs feel stronger than ever I don’t know, I must have got one of those The guy who run so fast
Journalist 1 A second wind
Frazier No – the Six Million Dollar man, yeah?
Journalist 2 Yeah
Frazier When I hit the road in the morning I’m like the Six Million Dollar Man
Foreman You people are certainly gonna see A mighty fight, in which avow’d am I, The only way to take leave of that ring Victoryless before the fifteenth end Is stretcherborne, unconscious, void of force
King We’ll see you all in Kingston on the night It will be grand, it will be exotic A royal, unforgettable battle As if they were the houses roseate White York & Red Lancaster, clamp’d by gore Together on a sodden, windswept moor But under sultry island sun instead So a good day to you all {To Frazier & Foreman} This way boys
Journalist 3 Mr King, could you answer some questions
King That will be all, thank-you
Journalist 3 But Mr King Is it true there’s twelve thousand empty seats On an island where the average wage Is only twenty-five dollars a month Was that to be expected… Mr King?
Exit King & the Boxers
Journalist 1 So how you think the fight is gonna go
Journalist 2 I can’t see Foreman lasting seven rounds He’s barely hit the third before his foes End the bouts, encrumpl’d upon canvas But Frazier is a different being & by the fourth or fifth Foreman will tire
Journalist 3 I don’t think it’ll even last that long George Foreman’s just an old-fashion’d slugger
Journalist 1 But tough, I wouldn’t be so sure
Journalist 2 Come on You’re kidding right, Foreman don’t stand a chance
Journalist 3 But Jamaica, hah, better than New York In winter, don’t forget to pack your shorts
Journalist 2 I’ll be there Jack, & newly single too!
Scene 7: Jamaica
Joe Frazier’s hotel, poolside / The Knock-Outs are playing, Frazier is singing to a crowd of lithe Jamaican ladies & journalists
Repertoire Knock On Wood Like a Knock-Out drop First Round Knock Out They Bigger They Come
Enter Eddie Futch & Yank Durham
Futch Hey Joe, Joe Frazier, what are you doing?
Joe Hey, guys, relax, we’re just having a jam
Futch A jam, a jam, your fight is in five days
Durham This is insane, Joe, why ya not training
Foreman I was this morning
Futch We heard about that You were getting bested by Ken Norton & that aint ever happened before, Joe
Durham We’ve told him his service no more needed & have a nice vacation here
Futch Like you It seems, Joe, but this aint no holiday, Its hard work, its elite competition Its, its not this anyway
Frazier Eddie, Yank Relax, I got this
Durham Singing by the pool In this heat drains your strength – its just stupid
Futch Its time to get outta here, gals & girls Go take your party to another pool
Jamaican Woman 1 Alright, alright
Jamaican Woman 2 See you later, Joe, thanks
Frazier Bye ladies, boys, nice music today
Knockout 1 Yeah
Knockout 2 You’d better hightail back to yer training Mr Futch & Mr Durham don’t look pleas’d
Futch Damn right we aint pleas’d, now get outta here
Frazier I don’t know why you guys are all upset I got Foreman, he got nothing on me All blunderbus & blunders, whats the fuss
Durham It aint him we’re worried about, its you, Dwell we do upon your poor well-being, Away from the gray-iron grasp of the gym & that wet, wild & windy Philly You’re losing your intensity & drive
Futch And its not just this island’s soothing balms We should have cut your gloves off once Ali Hit canvas, too much damage that night dealt, & now you’re just a shadow of the man Who charg’d upon the title like a train You’re now proud owner of a new-bought yacht Loving to dive into the sun and fun
Frazier What you on about, Eddie, I’ll be fine
Durham He’s got a point, you’re losing something Joe
Frazier I gotta hear this bullshit from you too & on the eve of a title defence
Futch Joe, you got enough money, whatever Happens next week, its time to give it up
Frazier Damn, give it up, what’s to gain, I’m World Champ You think I’m gonna walk away like that? All the work and sweat, Climb this high mountain Pain all the way, to come down on a plane No, no chance, not happening, now lets work, George Foreman’s record is a deception, I got too much for him, I’ll be too strong Then maybe, in a year or two, retire Cos’ I still gotta make sure Clay stays down You got my back
Durham We got it Joe
Frazier Good, Good Now come on, lets get outta here, you’re right A poolside aint no place for a fighter Nor ringside too, but on the canvas he Belongs – as the Zulu with his Assegai Dwells natural in his tribal impi – Knuckledust fists like burnish’d katana In the hands of a silver samurai I’ll show George Foreman & the watching world Joe Frazier is a trueblood champion
The Conchordia Folio 
