A Boxing Memory: Don Curry

A Boxing Memory: Don Curry

Don Curry stayed at welterweight for too long. In truth, he stayed in boxing too long, way past the point of no return, and he is paying a very huge price for refusing to let go of shattered dreams.

Living his days since the gloves were belatedly hung up with suspected CTE. There is no time limit in boxing. It’s rarely one punch. But it can be. It’s never the amount of fights, or the number of punches absorbed. Sadly, there is no magic number. You simply have to get out when you can. Fighters know when they are done. But few will admit it. There lies the problem.

Curry was once considered one of the best fighters on the planet. The heir apparent to Sugar Ray Leonard. A fight with Marvelous Marvin Hagler was once a real possibility. Then it all went badly wrong. Curry chased shadows for much longer than his body needed. When retirement did eventually come, he found bankruptcy and spells in prison. Retirement is rarely kind in boxing.

Curry, along with his brother Bruce, grew up in poverty in Fort Worth, Texas, and in many ways, once the millions of his career had long since gone. Curry was back there again. When it allowed, the mind still had the memories. Somewhere deep within, Curry can remember the good old days. Maybe the only comfort in his current plight is that he might not remember where he is today. At least, not always. The days are longer than they should be for Curry. An endless repetition of confusion. Sadly an all too familiar story. The hope is, that his life isn’t as dark as some recent reports would indicate.

It’s difficult to gauge accurately where it all went for wrong for a fighter who seemingly had everything. The loss to Lloyd Honeyghan, an unnecessary final dance at welterweight. The one-punch oblivion courtesy of Mike McCallum in his first attempt to win a world title at light-middleweight or the repeated chase for something that had long since gone. Defeats in the twilight of his career to Michael Nunn in 1990 up at middleweight and Terry Norris at light-middleweight the following year didn’t do him many favours in many ways. The loss to Norris prompted Curry to finally hang the gloves up. But inevitably there was a comeback six years later. One win on the road to nowhere before one last sad night against one Emmett Linton, where he earned a reported $30,000 a far cry from his heyday, a fight which ended in 7 painful one-sided rounds, and Curry was finally done. But the damage accumulated was irreversible.

Curry never lived up to the hype that surrounded him in the early stages of his initial world title reign. He never did recover from the loss to Honeyghan in 1986. They say it was one fight too many, but for many years he struggled to make the 147 welterweight limit.

His career peaked in 1985 when he destroyed Milton McCrory in two sensational rounds in Las Vegas to become the undisputed welterweight champion of the world. Curry looked like a superstar that night. In truth, he was never that good again. Wins over Marlon Starling and Colin Jones get forgotten. Outside of the McCrory demolition, they were perhaps the best wins on his record. Curry did win another world title after the shock defeat to Honeyghan. A win in San Remo against the WBC light-middleweight champion Gianfranco Rossi that flattered to deceive. A big upset loss on points to the unheralded Rene Jacquot the following year in his first defence ended his world title days. And much more.

The whole career had a ring of what could have been. Curry had a phenomenal amateur record of 400 wins with just 4 defeats. Only the American boycott of the Moscow Olympics stopped Curry from leaving the amateur ranks with a gold medal around his neck. Would his career and life have panned out any different if Curry had left the welterweight division after the McCrory win? Would his depleted body have shown some semblance of recovery if Curry had moved up there and then? Sadly we’ll never know. And maybe that is the story of the career and life of Donald Curry.