Swollen biceps and chiseled pecs can’t talk, yet they still say plenty. And in boxing, it’s mostly lies that they tell.
He says the boxing ring is one of the only places he feels truly safe. His opponents can’t say the same.
A storybook year is about to have its pages set ablaze, so says the fireball on the other of the end of line.
There’s fighting fire with fire, and then there’s taking a flamethrower to a flicked Bic. This is how Sammy Vasquez used to carry himself in the ring, like the no-huddle offense incarnate, with leather in place of pigskin. Defense? That was as much an afterthought as a purity ring on prom night.
The blood coming from his face said one thing. Sammy Vasquez says another.
As a National Guard veteran who did two tours of duty in Iraq, Sammy Vasquez knows a little something about meeting difficult challenges head-on. He’s about to do just that in the biggest fight of his boxing career.
Boxing and Thanksgiving go hand-in-hand. Why else would Adam Sandler name-check Mike Tyson in his “Thanksgiving Song?” And who could forget Paulie chucking the Thanksgiving turkey in the alley because Adrian wouldn’t go out with Rocky?
Steve Cunningham was going to be a career sailor. That was the plan when he enlisted in 1994. He was going to serve his time, rise up the ranks to chief petty officer, then cash out after 15 years. He was going to take the expertise he gained fueling fighter jets on aircraft carriers and apply it to the private sector, maybe working at an airport topping off 747s.