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    #21
    The G-man lost because primarily he was in piss poor condition.

    He was sucking wind big time, the problems he was having with the mouthpiece was because his conditioning was so bad he simply couldnt get enough oxygen. He kept pushing the mouthpiece out so he could take in air through his nose and mouth because his moutpiece was a double with no air slits. He wasnt sharp and it was a sloppy fight.

    I believe both his injuries and his loss are product of the poor conditioning he came in for that fight, not so much having to do with Benn.

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      #22
      McClellan was very lucky to come out of there alive, Nigel Benn is the last person you stand in front of with no guard (especially when he says before the fight that he's bringing back his punch). McClellan should of been knocked out at the start of round two and 10 times over in that round alone.

      Benn had more natural talent than McClellan, Benn had more natural talent than the vast majority of boxers. But McClellan looked like the closest thing to unbeatable when he turned into a slow-paced boxer-puncher from 1990 to 1994 with Manny in his corner.

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        #23
        that is strange. that is the first time I have heard that assessment of the two fighters that Nigel was a superior talent. tried to upload the fight and could not find it. I am gonna order it on Ebay or something.

        Comment


          #24
          Originally posted by pr20
          that is strange. that is the first time I have heard that assessment of the two fighters that Nigel was a superior talent. tried to upload the fight and could not find it. I am gonna order it on Ebay or something.
          You definitely wanna get hold of this fight it is the best fight of all time in my opinion. Mclellan lost because Benn was the better fighter on the night. And he might have done ****ed up things to animals but by fight night he'd given it up because his favourite dog, Deuce, got badly injured during a fight. To say he got what he deserved is seriously ****ed up. Mclellan was, and still is, a warrior and deserving of everyones respect. I firmly believe he would have gone down a legend had he not been injured against Benn

          Comment


            #25
            Originally posted by pr20
            Good look! I am gonna check that out. I also heard that the fight arguably should have been stopped in the first. I am a irm believer that sometimes boxers choose to fight the wrong fight and it gives a lesser aopponent a chance to beat them. Rahman-Lewis 1, Leaonard -Duran 1, Kevin Kelly-Naz. all fights were I think the superior guy lost becaseu he faught the wrong fight from a technical aspect

            Raheem V Morales?

            Comment


              #26
              bizaarely I was looking on google for articles of this as I studied this fight this week. Benns heart and dirty tactics did seem to win this fight in the end but I watched both UK & US commentary on this fight and they are both as biased as each other.

              Check out this interesting article I found some very sad points in it as well but I guess if karma is what its all about then this gentleman got served his in the prime of life

              McClellan fights a mysterious foe he can't defeat
              By GARY D'AMATO
              gdamato@journalsentinel.com
              Last Updated: Nov. 29, 2002
              Freeport, Ill. - His hands are still strong, his grip vise-like, and he holds your hand so tightly that your fingers cramp and your palm sweats and you wonder if he will ever let go.

              Quotable

              He wanted to destroy you. I never had a more talented fighter than Gerald McClellan.

              - Emmanuel Steward,
              Hall of Fame trainer

              Once, wrapped in tape and balled into fists inside boxing gloves, Gerald McClellan's hands unleashed a fury in the ring that left onlookers breathless and a long string of opponents quivering on the canvas.

              He made a living and a reputation with those hands, became World Boxing Council middleweight champion with them, achieved fame and fortune because of them.

              Now, they are all he has left.

              They are the conduit between the world that exists inside his damaged brain - where it is still 1995 and he is forever the invincible "G-Man" - and the world that has gone on . . . without him.

              Conversation with McClellan is all but impossible, but if you squeeze his hand and tap him on the knee or forearm as he speaks - the cadence of the taps seems to help him form sentences - something like this might come out:

              "My (tap) favorite (tap) football (tap) team (tap) is (tap) the (tap) San (tap) Diego (tap) California (tap) Chargers (tap). Their (tap) quarterback (tap) is (tap) Dan (tap) Fouts (tap)."

              It has been this way for McClellan since Feb. 25, 1995, when a savage beating in the ring left him brain-damaged, blind and hearing-impaired.

              The former Milwaukee resident climbed through the ropes at London Arena that night with a 31-2 record, intent on making WBC super-middleweight champion Nigel Benn the victim of his fourth consecutive first-round knockout.

              But everything went terribly, tragically wrong. An inept referee, illegal punches to the back of his head, McClellan's own stubborn pride and warrior mentality . . . any or all could have contributed to the bleeding in his brain that left him permanently disabled.

              Today, this is how McClellan, 35, describes his favorite meal:

              "I (tap) like (tap) McDonald's (tap). I (tap) pronounce (tap) it (tap) 'Mickey D's.' (tap). Two double-cheeseburgers (tap). Two large fries (tap). G**** soda (tap)."

              Then, McClellan smiles.

              It is a beautiful smile.

              ***
              If ever a man was born to be a boxer, that man was Gerald McClellan. A lithe athlete, he had all the tools physically and possessed uncommon punching power. He also had a mean streak that was particularly valuable in his line of work. He trained pit bulls to fight and had the likeness of his favorite, "Deuce," tattooed on his right arm.

              "He was a killer, an animal," says Stan Johnson, a Milwaukee trainer who taught a teenage McClellan how to box and teamed with him again late in his career. "He wanted to destroy you."

              Says Emmanuel Steward, the Hall of Fame trainer who was in McClellan's corner for most of his pro career, "I never had a more talented fighter than Gerald McClellan."

              McClellan was born in Freeport but spent his formative years in Milwaukee, training under Johnson at the Dr. Martin Luther King Center. After beating Roy Jones Jr. and winning several national titles as an amateur, McClellan turned pro under Steward and fought out of the famed Kronk Gym in Detroit.

              He knocked out his first 10 opponents, all in the first two rounds, before losing twice on points. He got back on track with 12 consecutive victories, then scored a first-round knockout over John "The Beast" Mugabi to claim the vacant World Boxing Organization middleweight title on Nov. 20, 1991.

              Less than two years and four quick knockout victories later, he took on Julian Jackson for the WBC middleweight title. It was no contest. McClellan was sensational, knocking out Jackson in the fifth round. Soon afterward, however, he had a falling out with Steward and asked Johnson to train him again.

              In his first WBC defense, McClellan stopped Jay Bell in 20 seconds with a body shot, the fastest knockout in a title bout. First-round knockouts over Gilbert Baptist and Jackson, in a rematch, followed.

              Chasing bigger paydays, McClellan gave up his middleweight belts and moved up to super-middleweight. Promoter Don King called him a "miniature Mike Tyson" and the WBC immediately made him its No. 1 contender. McClellan had his sights set on a super-fight with Jones.

              First, however, he had to get past Benn, a tough-as-nails ex-paratrooper from England. The "Dark Destroyer" had won the super-middleweight belt in 1992 and had successfully defended it six times.

              McClellan wasn't impressed. He visited a London betting parlor a few days before the fight and wagered a large amount of money on himself - Johnson thinks it could have been as much as $20,000 - to knock out Benn in the first round. He told British reporters of the adrenaline rush he got when he drove his fist into a man's skull, described the high he felt when an opponent sagged glassy-eyed to the canvas after absorbing his punishing blows.

              "He wanted to slam your nose up into your brain," Johnson says. "His dream was to put somebody in a coma."

              There was an omen, though, that bothers Johnson to this day.

              McClellan tuned up for the fight at the Pea**** Gym in London. In front of the gym was a statue of Bradley Stone, a British bantamweight who collapsed and died after a fight in 1994.

              "We had to confront that statue every day," Johnson says. "We talked about it, talked about death. Gerald said that's how he wanted to go out. He wanted to die in the ring."

              Those who saw McClellan vs. Benn on Feb. 25, 1995, still talk in hushed tones about the savagery of the "two-ambulance fight." It was a toe-to-toe slugfest from start to finish, the stuff of a promoter's dream and a neurosurgeon's nightmare.

              McClellan, motivated to tie the great Joe Louis' record for consecutive first-round knockouts in title fights and collect on his bet, tried to take out Benn in the opening seconds and nearly succeeded. He unleashed a torrent of punches and knocked Benn through the ropes and out of the ring.

              The French referee, Alfred Azaro, gave Benn ample time to get back into the ring and on his feet. McClellan rushed in to finish the job, but Azaro repeatedly broke up the fight and pushed him away.

              "I think the referee had strict instructions from the WBC and Don King to take Gerald into the later rounds," Johnson says. "The guy helped Nigel Benn so much you'd have thought he was Benn's brother. He kept pushing Gerald away. It was like he thought he was working an amateur fight. It was a total sham."

              McClellan expended a lot of energy in the first round. Benn not only survived, but started landing power punches of his own in the second. By the middle rounds, both boxers had dropped all pretense of defense and were swinging from the heels.

              Time after time, Benn landed punches to the back of McClellan's head but received no warnings or point deductions from Azaro.

              "I was screaming to the ref to take a point away," Johnson says, "but he didn't understand English."

              McClellan floored Benn again in the eighth round, but absorbed a crunching hook to the head when he carelessly charged in after the eight-count, hands at his sides.

              The 10th round was distressing to watch, with McClellan showing signs that something was clearly wrong. He seemed to be having a problem with his vision, blinking hard every few seconds. After Benn landed a right hook, McClellan fell to one knee. He struggled to his feet, Benn unloaded again, and he again sank to one knee. This time, Azaro counted him out.

              "He walked back to the corner and said, 'Damn, we lost,' " Johnson says. "I pulled his mouthpiece out. He looked like he wanted to sit down, so I yelled to Donnie (Penelton, McClellan's cousin and sparring partner) to get the stool. Before he could get it, Gerald slid down to the floor.

              "I was squirting water on his head and he looked right at me and said, 'Damn, man, it feels like the water you're pouring on me is running inside my head.' "

              Within minutes, McClellan was unconscious and in grave danger with bleeding on his brain. He came to briefly in the ambulance and asked Johnson and Penelton if he had been knocked out. No, they lied. At Royal London Hospital, he even talked to Benn, who was being treated for his own injuries.

              But McClellan soon lost consciousness again, and tests revealed the massive blood clot forming on his brain. He needed emergency surgery to relieve the pressure, or he would die.

              "I'm a trainer, not a doctor," Johnson says. "They're telling me he needs surgery. I call Gerald's family and they're screaming, 'Don't let them cut on his head!' The doctors are telling me he's going to die if they don't operate. Finally, I said, 'Do what you got to do.' "

              After the operation, McClellan was on life-support machines and in a coma for 11 days.

              He awoke to a strange world, one he could neither see nor understand.

              ***

              Comment


                #27
                McClellan is holding the hand of his niece's boyfriend, a 275-pound lineman on the Freeport High School football team who stands respectfully off to the side of the former middleweight champion of the world.

                McClellan gestures for the young man to move closer.

                "He's afraid you're going to hit him," says Lisa McClellan, Gerald's sister. She is just teasing, but Gerald is confused and starts to cry.

                "Why you gotta say that?" he says, wiping away tears.

                Lisa hugs Gerald and strokes his head, soothing him. She apologizes, over and over.

                Lisa and Sandra McClellan have vowed to care for their brother for the rest of their lives. It's a staggering commitment for two young women who have families of their own. They shuttle Gerald between their houses in 12-hour shifts.

                "I never thought about doing it any other way," says Lisa, who also attends nursing school full time. "If I really thought about all the sacrifices over the years, I probably would back out of it. So I just don't think about it. I would never put him in a home. Never."

                Most of McClellan's purse of $450,000 for the Benn fight went toward his medical bills. A benefit in Freeport in 1996, attended by Joe Frazier, Evander Holyfield and other members of the boxing community, raised almost $53,000. Lisa is organizing another benefit to be held in February in Rockford, Ill.; among those who have committed to attend are Lennox Lewis and Thomas Hearns.

                Jones set up a trust fund for McClellan and has contributed portions of his purses to the fund. He is said to be so shaken by McClellan's condition that he refuses to visit him until his own boxing career is over.

                Lisa McClellan no longer speaks to Johnson and Penelton, and won't allow them to visit Gerald. She says they lost interest in him after the injury. Johnson says Lisa blames him for what happened to Gerald.

                "He never complained about nothing that night," Johnson says. "If he would have complained, the first words out of my mouth would have been, 'Do you want to quit?' He would have said no. He was a vicious (expletive). He would have killed me if I tried to stop that fight.

                "My job is to motivate the fighter to get up off his stool and wreak havoc on the other guy. That's why they have doctors and referees. They didn't do their job that night."

                Johnson says he sneaked down to Freeport a couple of years ago and was let into Lisa's house by a family friend while she was at church. After a few minutes, Gerald recognized his old trainer.

                "He said, 'Stan Johnson! You were the best trainer in the whole world. I want you to train me all the way to heaven,' " Johnson says. "When I heard that, I started crying."

                As for Benn, he never was the same boxer after his war with McClellan. He fought five more times, losing three, before quietly retiring.

                Other than McClellan's three children - the oldest, Little Gerald, is 14 - he receives few visitors these days. He whiles away the hours sitting on a couch at Lisa's house on Carroll St., sniffing the brim of his baseball cap or nibbling at a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

                "In his own little world, Gerald is happy," she says. "He gets sad about boxing sometimes, but he doesn't complain. As long as he has someone to talk to, he's got plenty of snacks and he gets three good meals, he's happy."

                And if you hold his hand, as tight as you can, and tap his leg, McClellan sits up straight and speaks, slowly but clearly.

                "I (tap) would (tap) put (tap) no fighter (tap) in front of me (tap)," he says. "But to me (tap) Tommy (tap) Hearns (tap) is the baddest man (tap). He only had three losses (tap). Marvelous Marvin Hagler, one (tap). Roberto Duran, two (tap). Sugar Ray Leonard, three (tap)."

                McClellan turns to Lisa.

                "How many I lose?" he whispers.

                Only two, she tells him.

                She does not mention the loss to Benn.

                It upsets him, still.

                Comment


                  #28
                  Great article mate. Loved it. Mclellan is a true tragedy, a guy that could and should have been a legend. We talk about Roy Jones but imagine what Mclellan could have accomplished if he'd not been injured.

                  Comment


                    #29
                    Originally posted by myunksafied
                    You definitely wanna get hold of this fight it is the best fight of all time in my opinion. Mclellan lost because Benn was the better fighter on the night. And he might have done ****ed up things to animals but by fight night he'd given it up because his favourite dog, Deuce, got badly injured during a fight. To say he got what he deserved is seriously ****ed up. Mclellan was, and still is, a warrior and deserving of everyones respect. I firmly believe he would have gone down a legend had he not been injured against Benn
                    I respect Gerald's skills in the ring and the fact that he put his life on the line every time he stepped in the ring and ultimately paid a pretty high price. This does not mean I have to respect his actions outside the ring. As I have mentioned, I donated to his trust fund because I feel for his family but I have serious trouble feeling too much compassion for someone who was responsible for the suffering of animals who could not defend themselves. It is sad that what happened to Gerald happened but this was a risk he knowingly took every time he stepped in the ring. The dogs he was fighting never had that option, even if he did eventually give it up.

                    Comment


                      #30
                      i heard that the G man was an "enforcer" for the mob and some local drug dealers before his career started to develop .

                      but this guy is surrounded by so many legends

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