"My problem with Leon Spinks arose in 1980 at a dinner in Las Vegas honoring Joe Louis.
At that time, Louis, in failing health, was confined to a wheelchair. The end, it was plain, was near. I was one of many champions seated at the dais while Diane* was at a table up near the front. Spinks, it turned out, was at the same table. He was loud and obnoxious, and bothering Diane. I had one of my guys go over to him and tell him to cool it. That’s when a ruckus started, with Spinks and my people pushing and shoving and shouting. I hurried over and found Spinks and Diane pulling on a small, gold souvenir boxing glove that was at the center of the table. Leon had been taking them from the various tables and throwing them around. Diane had told him not to take the one on her table, but he had ignored her and grabbed it at the same time she did.
When I got there, I told him let go or I’d knock him on his butt. He let loose with a stream of profanity, and when I pushed him his bodyguard tried to get at me. His bodyguard was a muscular guy with a Mohawk haircut and a lot of attitude. Nobody knew him back then, but in time he would surpass Spinks as a celebrity, becoming an actor going by the name of Mr. T. I’d have whupped Mr. T and Spinks right where they stood except for the importance of the occasion, to honor Joe Louis. I didn’t want to muddy that with violence, so when Spinks let go of the souvenir and both he and Mr. T relaxed their threatening postures, I backed off. But I marked Spinks for a good buttwhupping,
deciding right there I’d try to get him in the ring as soon as I could. Get him in the ring and beat him bad.
Hurt him - that was what I had in my mind when the bell rang in Joe Louis Arena for me versus Spinks. I didn’t have to go looking for Spinks. He was charging at me, bobbing and weaving like a disco dancer in a frenzy, trying to get inside my longer reach. But he was also firing away, like some damn kamikaze in boxing shorts. Some of his shots hurt, but I took them because what I was laying on him was even better. Still, he kept coming. There was a lot of fight in him.
By the third round, though, he seemed to be slowing. And I wasn’t. I nailed him on the jaw with a right hand. Spinks dropped slowly to the canvas, fell facedown on the lower strand, and rolled over onto the canvas, landing on his back. He was on his feet at the count of nine. The referee, Richard Steele, asked him if he was okay. Spinks nodded and came toward me. I hit him with one right hand after another, and he took the punches. That’s when I suddenly began to feel sorry for Spinks in spite of the way he had insulted Diane. I stepped back from Spinks and yelled at Steele: “Stop the goddamned fight. You want me to kill this man?” But he didn’t stop it. It didn’t get stopped until Leon’s brother, Michael—who would fight Eddie Mustafa Muhammad the following month for the WBA light heavyweight title—came charging up the steps yelling at Steele while another guy in Leon’s corner threw a white towel into the ring.
Steele would tell reporters afterward that he never saw the towel—he was going to stop it then and there on his own. Whatever. The fight was over. The rage was gone from me by then, and I was feeling pity for Leon Spinks and regret for the malice I’d had for him."
(Larry Holmes)
*Diane - Larry Holme's wife.
