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GEORGE CHUVALO
Interview conducted by Barry Lindenman
BL: You come from Canada which is known for turning out tough, rugged
hockey players. You were known as a tough and rugged boxer. How did you
get involved in the sport of boxing when it appears from your boxing
style that you would have made a great hockey player as well?
GC: You think I fight like a hockey player (laughing)? You think all
Canadians are tough? I thought they were mostly "stick and move" guys
(laughing). As a kid, I remember when I first opened up a Ring magazine.
It was the first time I’d ever seen anything about boxing, heard
anything about boxing or even knowing about boxing. For me it was like
when a kid opens up the centerfold of Playboy. To me, it was like "wow,
this is it!" I thought it was like the greatest thing in the world. I
saw pictures of guys with all these muscles throwing punches shots at
each other. I guess it was the respect for power that really turned me
on to boxing as a young man.
BL: Did you have a certain boxing role model that you patterned your
style after?
GC: No, not really. There was a lot of guys I liked but I don’t think I
ever tried to fight like this guy or that guy. I grew up watching Joe
Louis, Willie Pep and Ray Robinson. As a kid when I first started to
box, those guys were champions of the world so they’ll always mean
something a little more special to me than a lot of the other guys.
You’re looking at me through American eyes. To me, I’m just a fighter,
you know what I mean? I don’t think I had a Canadian style or an
American style. My style was just mine, just walk in and pitch.
BL: You will always be remembered as a long time heavyweight contender
who fought the best, took their best shots and was never knocked off his
feet either as a pro or an amateur. Are you satisfied with your
reputation and how you’re remembered as a boxer?
GC: First of all, it depends who’s trying to remember me. Certain guys
may think of me in a certain way and other guys may think of me in
another way. Most people think I was a tough guy who took a good rap. I
think I was a lot better defensive fighter than I was ever given credit
for. I’ll go down in history as a supposed tough guy who fought a lot of
tough guys, beat a lot of tough guys, lost to some tough guys. I was
there. I was a contender for almost a couple of decades and knocked on
the door a few times, but am I satisfied, hell no! If you’ve never been
champion of the world you can’t be satisfied. I guess I can say I’m
proud of my achievements. I’m happy with some of the things I’ve done. I
did OK. A fighter always thinks he coulda done better than he did.
There’s always a gnawing kind of feeling that I wish I could have been
champion of the world. There’s a piece of me that always feels kinda
incomplete. All in all, I did a lot better in life than most guys. I was
ranked number two in the world at one time. Not too many guys can say
they were number two in the world, except Hertz, me and Hertz
(laughing)!
BL: Having faced such great fighters such as Muhammad Ali and Joe
Frazier, who would you say was the hardest puncher you ever faced in the
ring?
GC: It was neither of those guys. Mike Dejohn was a real good wacker.
Mike Dejohn knocked out a lot of guys in one round. Mike Dejohn was a
good banger. Foreman was a good banger too, of course. Mel Turnbaugh was
also. I guess they were about the three hardest punchers: George
Foreman, Mel Turnbaugh and Mike Dejohn.
BL: During your great career, you fought Muhammad Ali twice and went the
distance with him both times. You first fought him in 1966 just before
his three year exile from the sport and then again in 1972 soon after
his return to the ring. What differences did you notice in Ali in the
two times that you fought him and did you alter your strategy between
the first and second fights?
GC: You got it wrong. Ali went the distance with me both times
(laughing). I threw more head punches in the second fight. In the first
fight, I concentrated on maybe 75 - 80 % to the body.
I kinda switched it the other way around in the second fight. I fought a
smarter fight the second time. I hit him with a lot of jabs in the
second fight. Nobody ever talks about that but if you look at the film,
you’ll notice I hit him with a lot of jabs. But I still think I should
have worked the body more than I did. I worked the body too much in the
first fight and not enough in the second fight. The second fight was
still a very close, hard fought fight. Some sportswriters even thought I
won the second fight. How was Ali different? He was just more energetic
in the first fight. He threw more punches and had more verve in a sense.
He was trying to get by in the second fight with a lot of guile. He
didn’t have the same physical attributes as he had in the first fight.
He had flashes of it but he couldn’t sustain it like he could in the
first fight. In the first fight, he was a much better conditioned
athlete. After his exile, he never really came back. He never came back
to the fighter he was before he was put into exile. He was never that
fighter ever, ever, ever again. Even though he fought some great fights
after with Joe Frazier for instance, he was never the same fighter. When
he beat George Foreman he beat him by using his brains. He sucked him in
with the "rope - a - dope." He didn’t beat him on physical ability as
much as a well planned fight plan. He used his intelligence and general
boxing savvy and let Foreman punch himself out. Then he just took over.
But he was not the same athlete ever again.
BL: Ali was famous for giving his opponents nicknames. Sonny Liston was
the Bear, Joe Frazier was the Gorilla. He nicknamed you the "Washer
Woman." Do you know what he meant by that?
GC: In September of 1963, I beat Mike Dejohn, knocked him colder than
Missouri mule. I knocked him out with a left hook and pummeled him over
the ropes. It didn’t occur to me until twenty five years later in 1988
why he called me the "Washer Woman." It was because in the fight with
Dejohn, I had his back draped way over the ropes and I already had him
knocked out. I had him pinned against the ropes and I started pummeling
him, just beating on a knocked out guy. It looked like I was working on
a scrub board. That’s why he called me the "Washer Woman." It sounds
uncomplimentary but it really wasn’t. Ali said George Chuvalo fights
rough and tough like a "Washer Woman." It was a kind of a cute term.
BL: Although you never won a world title during your career, what would
you say was your greatest moment in your boxing career?
GC: There’s a few of them. I knocked out Doug Jones, something that Ali
couldn’t do. In fact, a lot of people thought he actually beat Ali. I
knocked out Jerry Quarry when a lot of people thought I would lose to
Quarry. I knocked him out with a second to go in the seventh round.
After the Frazier fight, my eyes had a propensity to swell up very
rapidly so in the fight with Quarry, I fought like a one eyed cat
peeping in a seafood store for about four rounds. The referee told me if
the eye gets any worse he was gonna stop the fight so if I didn’t knock
him out when I did, they would have stopped the fight. I also knocked
out Manuel Ramos in five rounds. He was the Mexican champion who’d
beaten Ernie Terrell and a few other guys and had Frazier down before
Frazier eventually stopped him.
BL: We’ve mentioned your strengths as a fighter, being a tough,
aggressive fighter with a granite chin. What would you say was your one
weakness that perhaps prevented you from becoming a world champion?
GC: A bad manager (laughing)! I think I should have fought more out of a
crouch for one thing.
That would have been much more beneficial to me. I stood up too straight
a lot of times. They always say I was a poor defensive fighter but I
don’t buy that one bit. If I show you fights from the old days you’d be
surprised. But people only want to see you one way. Even when they see
something different, they don’t see it. I took a great shot, right? But
I didn’t take that great a shot like I got hit with every punch in the
world. I took a good rap. I did, you know, but they had me walking
around like Superman but I didn’t like to get hit. Believe me I didn’t
(laughing).
BL: You fought during an era when boxing enjoyed a lot of success.
Today, the sport appears to be on the decline, being overshadowed by
football, basketball and now even hockey. What are your thoughts about
the current state of the sport today?
GC: First of all, there aren’t as many fighters as there were in the old
days. The fighters don’t have as much chance to hone their skills. Even
great fighters like Sugar Ray Leonard only had about thirty five or
forty fights. It’s like a joke. Willie Pep, Ray Robinson, Archie Moore,
guys like that had one hundred fifty to two hundred fights! The guys now
don’t fight. The old guys had more chance to experience different styles
and work on different things. They were more complete fighters and more
experienced in the old days. Not to say that there’s anything wrong with
Sugar Ray Leonard. Sugar Ray Leonard in his prime was a helluva fighter.
Today, you don’t have to fight as much because you make so much money.
You’re worried about taxes and stuff.
Take a look at Henry Armstrong. He fought three title fights in three
weeks! He didn’t have those kind of financial worries about making too
much money. He didn’t have his accountants fighting with him (laughing).
But they do have great fighters today. You can’t say Mike Tyson’s not a
helluva fighter. Holyfield’s a damn good fighter too. Golota can fight
if he’s got his thinking cap on. There’s a few heavyweights out there
but they just had more depth in the old days. In the old days you had to
climb over more bodies to get to the top. Now, you don’t have so many
bodies hanging around. So it’s a little easier that way plus the money’s
a lot more enticing today.
BL: Is there any boxer currently fighting today that reminds you of
yourself as a fighter?
GC: You want to talk about guys who remind me of my style, there’s young
David Tua. He’s a walk in and pitch kind of guy. I like him. He walks
in. He’s not afraid of anyone. He’s got a lot of stamina and he’s a
strong kid. He doesn’t punch enough in combinations but he’s a tough
kid.
And Tyson. He’s a tough kid. He walks right in. He’s that kind of a guy.
He’s got lots of balls too. I like Tyson. I’d like to meet Tyson and
show him a couple of things. I could help Mike.
His problem is he doesn’t know how to fight on the inside. If you take a
look at his fight with Buster Mathis, Jr., he exposed that. There’s a
chink in the armor. He’s too straight up on the inside. If he ever
pulled his right leg back, his whole upper body would be at a forty five
degree angle. He’s have his head on the other guy’s chest. He’d be safe.
The other guy would have no room for any leverage and Mike would have
all the leverage. His stance works against him on the inside. He’s easy
to push back and he can’t fight when he’s going backwards. But Mike is a
helluva an athlete. He’s very quick, got great reflexes and punches like
a bazooka. He’s the only guy out there in the heavyweights who can give
you goosebumps.
BL: In your personal life, you have been dealt a tough hand with
tragedies involving some close family members. How have you endured when
others might have crumbled and do you think the physical and emotional
toughness that you displayed in the ring helped you cope with life
outside the ring?
GC: I only know who I am and I only know what I feel. I can’t tell you
what somebody else feels. I’ve been through hell. I’m going through
hell. I go through hell every day. I’m in pain every day about my
family. But that doesn’t mean I still can’t enjoy life. That doesn’t
mean that when I see my granddaughter Rachel and she tells me she loves
me that I don’t enjoy that. That doesn’t mean that when I see my
grandson Jesse and he puts his arms around me and tells me he loves me
that I don’t enjoy life. I see my grandchildren and I go nuts. They mean
everything to me.
There isn’t a day that goes by or a conversation that doesn’t end up
with "I love you." My children love me. They express themselves to me.
My grandchildren do that. My new wife does that. Her children do that
with me too. In one way I’m still lucky because I’m surrounded by people
who care for me. I have some good friends too. If it wasn’t for my
friends and my beautiful remaining family, I wouldn’t be here. Nobody
can survive without love. That’s the one thing that keeps me motivated
to do anything. I was fifty six when I hooked up with my second wife.
Can you imagine? Who the hell falls in love at fifty six? At fifty six
you’re just suppose to look for a companion. I fell in love! I was
walking around wounded. I was walking around stunned. I couldn’t even
get out of bed for a month and a half after my first wife died. All of a
sudden I meet somebody. All of a sudden I got married. I know that
without that, I couldn’t have survived. Until you walk in my shoes, you
don’t really understand. I lost three kids and a wife. I needed
something in my life. Joanne is my "Celestine Prophecy." If you get a
chance, you should read that book. It’s a great book. It’s about people
you meet and people you meet for a reason. Who do you think introduced
me to my second wife? My first wife! They both used to work in the same
emergency ward at a hospital. My first wife was an electrocardiogram
technician and my second wife was a registered nurse. Who the hell knows
how you meet certain people and why you meet certain people? It’s crazy.
BL: Except for a brief career by Marvis Frazier, it seems that the great
fighters of your era, Ali, Foreman, Norton and yourself have discouraged
their children from entering the ring. What is it about the sport of
boxing that made you not want your children to become fighters?
GC: First of all, it’s a very difficult business. Boxing is up and down.
There’s no guarantees like in football, hockey and baseball with those
big, fat contracts. Once you make it to the pros, even the worst hockey
player makes a good buck or the worst basketball player in the NBA or
the worst baseball player, they all make a decent living. You could be
the 1000th best in those sports, but man, if you’re the 1000th best in
boxing, forget it (laughing). If you’re not in the top ten, forget it.
It’s a tough business that way. And why should you mess with your looks?
I used to be a good looking guy when I was a kid. Look what happened
(laughing)! Who’d want their kid to get a broken nose or a mashed up ear
or possible brain damage even though they’re making big money? Marvis
ended up OK and made some good bucks and still got his brains in tact.
He’s a very smart kid, a very nice kid. Marvis is a beautiful young guy
who ended up OK but a lot of kids don’t end up OK. It’s a business where
you can get killed. Who the hell wants to put their kid in a business
where he can get killed or end up punch drunk?
BL: Seeing Muhammad Ali now and how he struggles with Parkinson
Syndrome, what are your thoughts? Do you feel sorry for him? Has his
condition changed your views about boxing?
GC: Muhammad’s got a certain grace about him no matter what happens. I
don’t feel sorry for him mainly because I see him as a happy person. I
see him as a spiritual person. I see him with his family. I see him
surrounded by love just like me in a way. That makes life worth living.
When I see Muhammad I see a caring person. I see a loving person. I see
a person surrounded by people who love him. He’s always receiving
constant adulation no matter where he goes. Take a look at what happened
at the Olympics in Atlanta. He’s gotta feel good about a lot of things
even though he knows he can’t communicate properly. Take a look at his
face. Does he look unhappy? I don’t think so. He knows he’s appreciated.
He knows he’s loved. He knows he’s important. He knows he has people’s
attention. So in that sense, he feels good. If you look at his face, he
has the face of a happy person. He looks at peace with himself no matter
that he’s physically impaired to the point where he shakes and
everything else. It’s almost embarrassing for him as he struggles with
it. It took a lot of courage for him to go to Atlanta with the torch, a
lot of courage just to show yourself the way he did after being a guy
who was one of the greatest athletes of all time. Even with the shaking
and the tremors and everything, there was something quite beautiful
about it all. Collectively, the world for a few beautiful moments saw
that.
BL: Since your retirement from boxing, have you kept active in the sport
in any way?
GC: I was active in boxing with a number of fighters for a while after I
quit boxing. I was involved in promotions, managing, training a few good
fighters including Razor Ruddock and Johnny Tapia.
But it never really worked out the way I wanted. There always was
something that seemed to go wrong. With the fighters, they never worked
the way I wanted them to work. They never put out in the gym the way I
wanted them to on a continual basis. For instance, if you look at Razor
Ruddock’s body when I had him ten years ago and look at his body now.
There’s a helluva difference that speaks for itself.
BL: You just turned 60. After all you’ve been through during your boxing
career and in your personal life, what advice would you give to someone
trying to cope with adversity and life's challenges?
GC: All I know is that no matter what you have in life, you have to have
love in your life. If you have to face adversity and we all do from time
to time in our lives, you have to get the strength by feeding off the
people that care about you. You have to feed off what you feel for other
people too. Loving other people gives me strength. Other people loving
me gives me strength. If it wasn’t for love, I wouldn’t be here. It’s as
simple as that. In speeches, I talk about what helps keep people alive
and how we have to have love tattooed in our psyche by hearing "I love
you" from our parents, our siblings, our spouses, our children and our
grandchildren. That might sound so corny but that’s what keeps me alive.
It just kind of reestablishes and reconfirms the way we feel about each
other. Young people ought to know that a parent or a grandparent really
cares about them. |
