Tom Archdeacon: Opera on life of legendary boxer to be shown here

Apr. 28—Both boxers were fearful as the weigh-in approached.

Emile Griffith, who was trying to regain his welterweight crown from Benny "Kid" Paret in their nationally-televised title fight at Madison Square Garden that March night in 1962, worried the brash Cuban would resort to the same homophobic slur he had six months earlier when they met for the second time in their three-fight trilogy.

At that weigh-in, Paret had taunted Griffith and called him a nasty anti-gay, street Spanish slur. The press did not pick up on it then, but it had cut Griffith deeply and he'd lose the close 15-round decision after having knocked Paret out in their first fight six months before that.

While beloved by many in the fight game for his sweet, cheerful nature, Griffith was leading double life. He was gay and at night he often visited the gay clubs in New York, where he was known for his flashy outfits, a gold chains and unfettered presence. In the outside world though, he remained deeply closeted.

In the early 1960s being gay was punished in the courts, derided in the press and unheard of in professional sports. Even today it's rare for a male pro athlete at the peak of his career to admit he's gay.

Paret cruelly dug into that because he was looking for a way to get into Griffith's psyche. He felt he had to because he was having trouble with his own thoughts.

Inside he knew he shouldn't be fighting.

"That's the real story," Enrique Encinosa, the respected boxing historian, author and radio personality said from his Miami home Wednesday.

In his book "Azucar Y Chocolate: Historia Del Boxeo Cubano", Encinosa wrote on Paret, who in the 19 months prior to the 1962 Griffith bout, had lost four of six fights and had taken a real beating in several of them.

Encinosa told how Paret had complained of double vision and migraines after winning a rugged 15-round decision over Federico Thompson 15 months earlier.

According to Encinosa, Paret's longtime trainer Caron Gonzales went to manager Manny Alfaro and said: "Look Man, We've got to retire him! He's not right. He's hurt and it's not going to get any better.'

"Alfaro told him, 'Every fighter gets headaches.'"

He said Gonzalez couldn't convince Paret either:

"Benny said, 'I used to get $35 fighting prelims in Cuba. Now I'm getting $10,000 or $12,000. I've got to keep doing this for my family.'"

In frustration, Gonzalez quit and another trainer was as brought in.

A few days before the fight, Paret admitted to his wife he was worried.

And so, at the weigh in, he stood right next to Griffith, who was stripped down to his undershorts, as he stepped on the scales.

Paret whispered the slur again.

When Griffith didn't respond, Paret hissed the slur again and added "I'm going to get you and your husband!"

Griffith snapped and was ready to retaliate, but his trainer, Gil Clancy, stepped in and said: 'Save it for the fight tonight!"

And Griffith did.

In the 12th round, he caught Paret with two sharp right hands that stunned the Cuban champ and backed him into a corner.

With that, Griffith unleashed a flurry of punches to the head that knocked Paret partly through the ropes. He was held up by the turnbuckle and Griffith, who pinned him in place with his left arm ,continually hammered him with his right until Paret's eyes were swollen shut and his nose and cheek were bleeding.

The usually cautious referee, Ruby Goldstein, seemed to freeze up and didn't respond and Paret's corner, which should have stopped the fight, remained mum. Some people at ringside were in tears and author and fight buff Norman Mailer, near one corner, said afterward, it was the hardest he'd ever seen one man hit another.

Griffith landed 18 punches in six seconds and threw 29 unanswered punches overall before Goldstein finally jumped in and stopped the fight.

As he pulled Griffith away, Paret melted to the canvas unconscious. He was carried from the ring on a stretcher and rushed to Roosevelt Hospital, where he died 10 days later.

For the rest of what would be a long, hall of fame career, the naturally sunny Griffith was haunted by the fight and what he had done to Paret.

"He had this joyous nature, but he was in surmountable pain," Dan Klores, who co-directed a 2005 documentary on Griffith called "Ring of Fire" recently told writer Corey Kilgannon.

The sadness came from both the Paret fight and having to live a secret life.

In his autobiography, Griffith said," I kill a man and the world forgave me; I love a man and the world wants to kill me."

That line caught the attention of Terence Blanchard, the seven-time Grammy winning jazz trumpeter and composer, who wrote the new opera about Griffith's deadly encounter with Paret that is being performed by the Metropolitan Opera Company in New York.

It opened April 10 and this Saturday the performance will be broadcast live to theaters in 47 countries around the world.

It's being shown here at the Cinemark Dayton South 16 (195 Mall Woods Drive in West Carrollton) beginning at 12:55 p.m. It costs $25 and $16 for seniors.

The opera is called "Champion."

Haunted by Paret's death

Griffith grew up in the U.S. Virgin Islands, ended up in an orphanage and moved to Brooklyn as a teenager. Soon he had a job working for Howie Albert, a hat maker in Manhattan's Garment District.

When he saw Griffith's muscled physique, Albert suggested he try boxing and took him to a nearby gym where he met Clancy. A year later he was a New York Golden Gloves champ.

He turned pro soon after and promptly won his first 13 fights.

But the more he made a name for himself in the ring, the more he had to work to hide who he really was outside of it.

Eventually he would even marry a woman from the Virgin Islands in hopes of dispelling talk, but that union lasted just two years.

In the ring though, he found continued success.

Over a 19-year pro career, he fought 111 fights and went 85-24-2.

He won world titles at three different weights and was voted the Fighter of the Year in 1963 and 1964 by Ring Magazine and the Boxing Writers Association of America.

In all he fought a staggering 1,122 pro rounds. His 337 championship rounds were more than any other boxer in history. When he retired he'd fought more main events at Madison Square Gardens (26) than anyone. And in 1990 he was enshrined in the International Boxing Hall of Fame.

His record would have been even better, but he stayed in the game too long and lost nine of his last 23 fights.

After the Paret loss he was not the same boxer though. He'd get an opponent in trouble but wouldn't finish him. He was afraid of hurting someone again.

He tried to do as many good deeds as he could — sponsoring kids' sports teams, befriending boxers in need — but he couldn't shake the dreams that came to him at night.

For weeks after Paret's death, he'd dream the Cuban boxer was walking toward him. He'd ask "How are you Kid," but would get no answer.

Before a bout with Gene Fullmer at Madison Square Garden he hid in a bathroom stall and finally admitted he was afraid.

"Of Fullmer?" a handler asked.

"No, Paret," he whispered.

'A great champion'

Late one night in 1992, Griffith was severely beaten outside of a gay bar in midtown Manhattan. A group of thugs hit him with baseball bats. He was hospitalized for months with a fractured skull and a damaged spine and kidneys.

Near the end of his life he lived in a small apartment in Weehawken, New Jersey, with his belts and once tailored suits. His kidneys were failing. Dementia was taking over. He died in 2013 at age 75.

The last time I saw him was in 2010, the night before an International Boxing Hall of Fame induction ceremony in Canastota, NY.

We were at Graziano's Casa Mia, a popular Italian restaurant and bar owned by former boxing trainer and manager Tony Graziano.

The music was playing and on the dance floor former boxing champs Aaron Pryor, Leon Spinks, Buddy McGirt, Marlon Starling and Livingstone Bramble all were dancing side by side.

When the music stopped, a touching scene unfolded.

Nino Benvenuti, the former middleweight champ who had won two of his three fights against Griffith in the '60s, held his old rival's hand and gently led him to the stage.,

Drawn to Griffith's kindness long ago, Benvenuti had flown him to Italy a few times to be with his family. He made Griffith the godfather of his son.

On this night, the two men got a standing ovation and then Benvenuti introduced his old pal with the perfect word, a definition that will resonate today worldwide:

"Ladies and gentlemen, Emile Griffith.

"A great champion."