The summer of 2009 saw the death of four fighters in a short span of time, and all were tragic in nature. It affected me as a boxing fan, because you develop an affinity for certain boxers some people could never understand.
Shockingly, three of those deaths occurred in the month of July alone. On July 1, 2009, it was announced that Alexis Arguello had been found dead of an apparent suicide. It saddened me because he had been one of my favorites, and was someone I got to meet in person and chat with in 1983. He had a history of depression, and had talked of killing himself before, but this was different. He was actually dead.
If you look at the circumstances, and listen to reports from his family, I don’t believe Alexis killed himself. He seemed happy at this point in his life, and had returned to his native Nicaragua to fight political injustice. When his close loved ones say his enemies killed him to stop his opposing views, I believe they are telling the truth. It was devastating news to me at the time, and is always sad when a person is gone at only 57. Rest in peace, champ.
Only ten days later, it was reported that Arturo Gatti was dead from another apparent suicide in Brazil. The tough fighter with the heart of a lion was only 37, and foul play was involved again. His crazy wife was charged with homicide at first, but the charges were later dropped. All of Arturo’s family and friends say he would NEVER have killed himself, and I for one believe them. They shared stories of him being afraid of his ‘psycho’ wife, and it proved he was right. Sadly, another young fighter gone too soon.
Incredibly, on July 25, one of my favorites was killed just outside of Atlanta, Georgia. Vernon Forrest, who possessed a lethal right hand, and had a dazzling smile, was shot and killed at a gas station when some hoods tried to rob him. Rather than just give them his money, he pulled out his own gun and chased them down, and in the process, was shot in the back and killed. What a stupid and senseless way to lose a great fighter, and young man. I remember crying when I heard the news, that’s how much I identified with the fighters I admired. Another gone too soon.
Lastly, a local fighter from the Philadelphia area, Tony Thornton, died on September 10 from injuries suffered in a motorcycle accident. He had been coming home to New Jersey on the Walt Whitman bridge when a bus hit him, and sent him crashing to the ground. He was in the hospital for a week with his injuries, but sadly succumbed and passed away.
This was the most difficult death for me since I had met Tony while I was a security guard at a mall in south Jersey in the fall of 1989. I still had thoughts of becoming a professional myself at that point, and he encouraged me to come train with him in Kensington, just outside of Philadelphia. I declined because it was just too far, but told him I was serious about my love of boxing. When I said “Look Tony, I don’t want to be a champ or anything.”, ,he quickly interrupted me and said “Don’t let anyone say you can’t do it! Don’t listen to them!” His words rung true after we shook hands, and he departed.
I kept the newspaper clipping of his death for a long time, and it still saddens me 15 plus years later when I think of the ‘Punching Postman’s’ death. Rest in peace, Tony.
Those four deaths to a boxing fan like me stung hard. I am not kidding when I utter the words of Canelo Alvarez. No boxing. No life. I mean it from the bottom of my heart. God gave me boxing as a person in my late teens, and I will love it until I die.
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