His other great foe was a slightly less saintly figure with whom he shared six fights. He wanted me to lose.” Even the magisterial Robinson could not expect to compete against such an opponent.
“The heat didn’t beat me,” he began, shaking his head. The two suited men assured Ray that it was the eviscerating heat, not Maxim, that had prevailed but Robinson, now 16 pounds lighter than at the opening bell, was not convinced.Īs the cooling water began to take effect, he spoke more clearly.
“He didn’t knock me out, did he?” Robinson mumbled as Gainford and Impellitteri supported his semi-listless body while it lolled towards the sanctuary of a cold shower. In the dressing room after that fight in 1952, a barely coherent Robinson looked to Mayor Impellitteri of New York, a trio of medical doctors, and his manager, George Gainford, for some clarity on what had just happened.
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