Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

“That’s not necessary.”

“Well here’s my card. I can pay if you change your mind, but right now I have to go,” I began a near-sprint out of there.

“Wait son!” he was running after me flapping some paper up and down.

“I really have to go,” I said.

“I just need you to sign this release.”

“Release?”

“Yes, a release is a—”

“I know what one is, release for what?”

“It’s standard, it just says you agree to appear on the program described therein.”

“ Clerical Confessions ? What is this?”

“Yes, that’s the program. You see there was a hidden camera in the booth. They recorded everything we said and if the producers think it’s interesting enough they may decide to use it. On the program. It’s going to be a new show on HBO.”

“You want me to agree to put what I just said on Television.”

“No it’s not TV, it’s HBO.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think—”

“No you don’t understand. This is a legitimate program on HBO called Clerical Confessions . You can see it’s on the up and up. You see the letterhead on the form? I’m assured the program itself is going to be quite tasteful yet compelling.”

“Are you a real priest?”

“Yes, absolutely son. It’s designed as an educational tool.”

“No, sorry. Sorry, no. I have to go.”

“But the release, no one has refused.”

“I’m sorry I just don’t want to be on Television.”

“It’s not TV, it’s HBO!”

Outside I slowed from sprint to jog then brisk walk. I ended up walking the whole way home. Miles in the dark cold. Many times I thought of diving underground into the tubes but I never did. I didn’t think of that nutty priest either.

Instead I thought how there is no height you can reach that ensures you won’t then fall. To fight Sugar Ray Leonard in Las Vegas on November 30, 1979, Wilfred Benitez was guaranteed 1.2 million to Leonard’s even million. It would be the only time the magnetic Leonard would make less than his opponent in the ring and was evidence of Benitez’s higher standing, at the time, in the boxing community. The greatness of the undefeated two-time champion Benitez was already beyond dispute so the most intriguing element of the fight was the expected verdict on Leonard’s worth. Although at twenty-three he was two years older than Benitez, Leonard had less ring experience, particularly at the championship level where this would be his first such fight. Leonard’s talent was evident. He had tremendous hand speed and, while probably not quite as difficult to hit as Benitez, he was no defensive slouch. The question was whether inside he was a real fighter or just a flashy media creation in a sport that missed the sensational presence of Muhammad Ali.

Of course while the general public understandably viewed the upcoming fight through Leonard’s eyes, the fight was no less critical for Benitez. If he could become the first man to defeat the biggest star in the sport he would at least partially ascend towards his celebrity, money, et cetera. The fight was a crucial challenge.

Benitez responded to the challenge by becoming San Juan’s foremost discotheque inspector and not beginning rigorous training until he arrived in Vegas on November nineteenth, eleven days before the fight. Eleven days. Eleven days to prepare for something you’ve spent the sum of your twenty-one years preparing for. The first two days were occupied just adjusting to the shock of the physical torture that is boxing activity. The next nine days were insufficient and troubling. During sparring sessions those days Benitez’s nose was broken, which means a sparring partner hit him hard enough and cleanly enough to do that. That was not a good sign. Goyo was upset and worried, predicting his son would lose to Leonard.

Benitez himself made no such prediction. He was confident going in. He always was when inside ropes. So inside the ropes of that Caesars Palace ring on November 30, 1979, he knew he would be better than his opponent because he always, every single time, had been. Except this time the other guy felt the same way.

Three separate times, while waiting in the ring for the announcer to attend to various details ( exempli gratia : Benitez 36-0-1 [23 KOs]; Leonard 25-0 [16KOs]), Benitez and Leonard engaged in staredowns — those ritualistic exercises peculiar to Boxing where the two opponents will stare at each other from a negligible distance with neither man willing to optically cede an inch. (On those occasions, although both men were listed at five-foot-ten and about one hundred and forty-six pounds, Benitez appeared to be the bigger man). The sight of these staredowns must have seemed an odd one to an audience fully aware that neither man was known for his punching power or aggressiveness in the ring. What it was was more like a staredown of abilities. And the whole thing the height of silliness in a sport where you could legally punch your opponent in the face if he bugged you so much.

But all that was beside the point; the unmistakable one being that when two truly great fighters get in the ring then the fight can’t help but be great on at least some level. On these occasions, and on that night, several elements hang in the air. There’s nowhere to look, that’s the first thing you notice. Any fight is lucky if it contains one great fighter. If it does, you watch that fighter. You watch him because it’s hard to watch both and the great fighter’s ability pulls your eyes. You watch his superior ability allow him to do as he pleases. But what happens when both fighters draw your eyes equally? What happens when all you’ve ever seen each do is dominate? When you can’t picture either fighter being overtaken but you know one of them will be? Well you get what they had there in that ring on that night. You get those charged moments just before the bell rings and the fighters’ world begins to decide which of the universe’s infinite possibilities will be actualized.

I think Benitez was lonely in those moments before the opening bell. The kind of loneliness that can normally only be attained through extreme solitude. There can be no more alone.

Boxing gets called an individual sport and that, I think, gets it wrong. It’s individual, true enough, but unlike say tennis where you are promised, regardless of your comparative skill, a minimum period of survival, that is, some success, Boxing offers no such quarter; the whole thing can be over at any second, embarrassment always peering around the corner. It’s that potential for embarrassment that makes Boxing less a sport and more like concentrated life; a life where you accept that you’re going to have to be hit on the head, and it’s going to hurt and harm you, in order to accomplish what you wish.

Often the greatest art is inaccessible to all but a few. After the bell rang to start the fight, Benitez and Leonard met in the middle of the ring and did little that was obvious. Warily they circled each other, each channeling from above their half-share of the pulsating energy in the surrounding atmosphere. Both missing, nothing landing, neither willing to open up, wary of the other’s counterpunching ability. Leonard in particular seemed cautiously mindful of what had consistently happened to previous Benitez opponents who had rushed forward to attack only to miss everything while providing ready targets for vicious Benitez counters. So he stayed back. Nor did Benitez go against his nature and rush forward. Instead the audience was given an ebb and flow dance in the middle where true knowledge would be needed to discern any slight advantage that might emerge.

Those looking saw that while he wasn’t coming close to landing it, Leonard’s left jab was extremely quick and sharp, certainly the best Benitez had ever faced. Midway through the first round Leonard shot out a right that Benitez easily made miss; but as Benitez raised his head back into position, Leonard landed a left hook to the head, the first effective punch of the fight. Leonard sought to press his momentary advantage. He fired multiple punches in perfect combination and each with steam. They all missed. Benitez effortlessly slid his upper body side to side, to and from, here to there. Leonard didn’t land again that round. At the end of the round they stared each other down again but it was Leonard who had to be a little unnerved at the realization that sometimes hype matches reality and is more like unadorned truth and maybe the person across from him did have radar and was impossible to hit other than incidentally and intermittently.