The handsome Ali was on his way to etching his reputation as the greatest heavyweight of all time. I had lucked into a seat in the Vegas I’d imagined. I was forced into a cheap suit I’d outgrown that fooled no one into thinking I belonged in the crowd. Her hair as red as Lucille Ball’s, mom wore her best (and only) mink stole. Women in the crowd of 5,700 dazzled in their sequins, men barked opinions, and the air was pungent with cigar smoke, sweat, and ozone. British fans from “across the pond” - as the sportswriters put it - had come to watch the strapping Bugner try his luck against the great Ali. 14, 1973, at the Las Vegas Convention Center.įor a boy not yet 13, it was a transcendent night that overwhelmed my senses and remains indelibly etched in my memory. Not some scrap between no-names in the smoky upstairs ballroom of the Silver Slipper, but a heavyweight battle between Muhammad Ali and Joe Bugner on Feb. ![]() My mother, bless her heart, took me to the fights. (Las Vegas News Bureau)Īs a kid growing up in Las Vegas, the best Valentine’s Day present I ever received wasn’t a box of See’s chocolates, a sappy card, or even a kiss from a pretty girl. 14, 1973, at the Las Vegas Convention Center. Muhammad Ali celebrates after defeating Joe Bugner on Feb.
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