“Busy” Louie at the Golden Gloves
Abstract Seven weeks of preparation. Fifty days of labor and sweat, of grimaces, of mingled doubt and enthusiasm, of “monastic devotion,” as Joyce Carol Oates puts it so well. Six miles gobbled up each morning, in the arctic cold of a Chicago winter; billions of gestures, sometimes minute, simple or...
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| Format: | Book Part |
| Language: | English |
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Oxford University PressNew York, NY
2003
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| Online Access: | http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780195168358.003.0004 https://academic.oup.com/book/chapter-pdf/52531147/isbn-9780195168358-book-part-4.pdf |
| Summary: | Abstract Seven weeks of preparation. Fifty days of labor and sweat, of grimaces, of mingled doubt and enthusiasm, of “monastic devotion,” as Joyce Carol Oates puts it so well. Six miles gobbled up each morning, in the arctic cold of a Chicago winter; billions of gestures, sometimes minute, simple or complex but always painstakingly executed, assiduously repeated and polished; and oh so many punches—thrown, absorbed, taken in and dished out. Tonight, I’m stepping into the ring. The moment of truth. The Chicago Golden Gloves has arrived, the most prestigious amateur tournament in the city. Proud of its seventy-something years, carrying in its wake the legend of the glory days of the Sweet science, when Chicago Stadium vied with Madison Square Garden in New York City for the pugilistic limelight. Tony Zale, Ernie Terrell, Sonny Liston, Cassius Clay first honed their skills there, first wreaked havoc there. |
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