By Don Colgan

I found out Floyd Patterson passed away Thursday morning.  I had a feeling this day would come sooner than later.  We all knew Floyd was very ill, the progression of Alzheimer’s over the past decade had slowly robbed him of many of the remembrances of his fine career, as well as many of the wonderful associations he nurtured over the 47 years he devoted to boxing, from a Simon Pure in the New York City Golden Gloves in the early 1950’s until his sad and sudden resignation as Commissioner of the New York State Athletic Commission in 1998.

Floyd Patterson was much more than a sports personality or Former Heavyweight Champion. He was what is a true rarity in sports today, a wonderful and positive inspiration for the youth of this nation.  He left us a beloved and much admired figure, an elder statesman for the sport he championed and loved to the last.

Floyd suffered from a brutal inferiority complex as a result of his difficult childhood.  As a boy he could not look a person in the eye and carry on a conversation.  He was educationally and sociologically stunted.  He did not like himself and did everything in his power to avoid interaction with human beings.

A turning point in Patterson’s young life was when his mother sent him to the Wiltwyck School for boys after Floyd had experienced numerous run ins with the police.  To that point he was inarticulate, had no reading skills and no hope.

Patterson’s 1961 Autobiography “Victory Over Myself ” illustrated this hopelessness when Floyd confessed he once found a large hole in the wall of a New York City Subway Terminal and climbed in that hole every day, shielded himself from the humiliation he felt because of his unkept appearance and fear of even attempting to interact with children his age.

Floyd was not a great Heavyweight Champion by definition.  His position is that of a lower to middle tier champion, ranked comparably to Jersey Joe Walcott, Max Schmeling and possibly Gene Tunney.  He boxed consistently under 190 pounds until later in his career.  Patterson has lightening fast hands, arguably faster than Ali’s.  He would launch six, seven and eight punch combinations, often hurtling himself through the air while delivering the blows.  He could punch and had a great left hook, the same punch that rendered Ingemar Johansson completely unconscious in the Polo Grounds on June 20, 1960, when Floyd demolished boxing’s oldest axiom  about former heavyweight champions, that “They never come back!”.

It is entirely possible that the explosive left hook that separated Ingemar from the championship was a contributing factor in his condition today, as the Swede was diagnosed himself with the crippling Alzheimer’s affliction.

Patterson simply could not take a big heavyweight’s punch.  Johansson dropped him nine times in three bouts.  Liston destroyed him twice in the opening round.  Jerry Quarry had him down three times and hurt often in their two bouts, although Floyd was robbed of the verdict in their second bout, which was a part of the WBA Elimination Series organized to determine Ali’s successor in 1968.

Floyd was once described as a “Black Tragedian” who lingered on the outer tier of the best heavyweights in the world from 1963 until his final bout, a 7th round TKO defeat against Muhammad Ali in their return bout at Madison Square Garden in 1972.  He simply loved to box and never felt, even after the crushing Liston defeats and the Ali/Clay humiliation in Las Vegas that regaining the championship was out of this grasp.  He came within in a whisker of earning a points verdict over Jimmy Ellis in Stockholm in 1968, a bad decision by any definition.

However,  he was the kindest and most gentle and spiritual of human beings.  He had an articulate and acute sense of where a boxer goes and from whence he came from.  It is true that the defeated boxer is, in many ways, one step closer to the poverty from which he was born.  It is a complex of survival and hunger to escape that poverty that has driven Flyweights to Heavyweights, from Ruby Goldstein, the much heralded New York City “Jewel of the Ghetto” in the 1920’s to Sugar Ray Robins, Smokin’ Joe Frazier and later Larry Holmes.  It is the psychology, the mindset of a pugilist.  Victory and survival!

Yet Floyd was a formidable force in the middle and late 1960’s.  He outboxed and out punched a prime George Chuvalo at the Garden in 1965.  He drew with an barely lost to an emergent Jerry Quarry when the Irishman was a true force to be reckoned with within the division.  Patterson never became an Ezzard Charles, losing time and again to the Donnie Fleemans of the world at the end of his ring career.  He remained a contender and a title threat nearly to the end and, for over twenty years, was an enduring and formidable force in the light heavyweight and heavyweight class.

Yet his legacy lies with the man himself.  During his first championship reign he used to bring boys from his Rockville Centre area up to his training camp in upstate New York.  He permitted them to spar, taught them the fundamentals of boxing as well as the opportunity to enjoy themselves in the beautiful New York State summertime.  He became a wonderful example of what “Champion” defines.  He was respectful, faithful, and thoughtful and took bold stands on issues impacting boxing.

Floyd understood the boxing remained an escape from the stranglehold of urban poverty for thousands of inner city youths.  It served, and continues to serve, an important social purpose that is often overlooked by those who editorialize for it’s banishment. 

Floyd Patterson did not have to grandstand to get his positive and hopeful message across to the youth of America.  He accomplished this by deeds, example and perseverance.  That is why America, and the sporting world, embraced the gentle champion.

He is worthy of his well earned position among the giants in American sports in the 20th century.