Dave Wedge, a former Herald reporter, is the author of Blood & Hate: The Untold Story of Marvin Hagler’s Battle for Glory, which includes this passage. The novel of Brockton’s amazing Marvin Hagler was just published.
A frenzy broke out around Robbie Sims, Pat, Goody, and Marvin as they embraced in jubilation in the middle of the Wembley ring.
Boston Globe reporter Leigh Montville, who sat next to Herald writer George Kimball and covered the fight, stated that it was just the third round. They simply began tossing the remaining eighteen beers that these skinhead men had. It seemed like the excrement was falling out of the sky. Around the arena, fights were starting.
Pat, Goody, and Marvin felt hard things slam into their heads and backs. While yelling insults and threats, Minter’s supporters threw beer cans and bottles toward the ring.
As Robbie and the Petronelli brothers surrounded Marvin, protecting him from the missiles aimed at them, debris struck the ring. Panic and chaos swept across the crowded arena as they covered their own heads in fear and shielded Marvin. To protect themselves from the barrage from the top level, those seated ringside turned their chairs around and held them over their heads.
Together, promoter Rip Valenti, Bob Arum, and Howard Cosell swam for cover beneath the ring. Marvin and the Petronelli brothers were hurried out of the arena under cover by British police officers known as the bobbies, who rushed the ring and surrounded them. Following in their wake, Marvin’s family and entourage ducked for cover as they ran for their lives.
“I hope your husband gets cancer,” snarled one rioter, glaring at Bertha, Marvin’s wife.
Ida Mae, Marvin’s mother, was pulled behind Bertha as she rushed on in astonishment. Ida Mae also heard it. Even though she had experienced Newark, this was different.
Bertha remembers Ida Mae, and you could see the expression on her face. They detested him, something we had never experienced before. However, he was Black and defeated the champion of London there.
As bottles and debris continued to fall, police and Marvin’s entourage escorted the frightened women out of the disturbance.
Kimball, Frank Stoddard of Brockton Enterprise, and Montville sheltered their heads with their typewriters. Usually, the writers would sit at their news desks and watch the fight through to the end, pounding out their articles on typewriters ringside. However, the typewriters served as shields that evening. They were being attacked.
Beside them sat Vito Antuofermo. Italian TV had engaged him to commentate on the bout in color. He took hold of Montville’s arm.
“Come with me,” he urged.
Apparently oblivious of Antuofermo’s identity, a rioter broke a beer bottle over the fighter’s head as he led the reporters to the exit.
Vito whirled around and gave him a blow. In the mouth, Montville remarked. The man fell like a bag of shit.
Kimball claimed in his book Four Kings that Antuofermo’s right cross to the hooligan’s face might have been his strongest punch.
Harry Carpenter, a BBC announcer, was hit on the head by a bottle that flew through the air.
This place is in complete disarray. “All of my coworkers around me are smothered in beer,” Carpenter added. He described the incident as a disgrace to British boxing and a shame.
Marvin’s close buddy John Merian Sr. from Brockton escaped his seat by the ring and hurried with the rest of the group for the tunnel.
According to John Merian Jr., his son, my father was afraid for his life. They had no idea what to anticipate. It was a mob.
Merian Sr. later said to his son, “I wasn’t sure if we were going to survive.”
Alan, unharmed by the bottles and mayhem, walked in defeat to his corner as Marvin and his group left Wembley. Wearing a towel saturated in blood, he stood there confronting the fact that he had just lost his title. The ringside doctor who treated him mostly ignored the carnage that was taking place all around him. He threw his glove into the air as he left the ring. The audience applauded.
When the mayhem broke out, Alan’s brother, Mick Minter, was seated ringside with his parents. He removed a bottle from his head.
He said that was insane. Hagler made me feel terrible for him. It stripped him of his glory.
With haste, the Minters returned to Alan’s dressing room. Inside the arena, the chaos persisted, and it intensified outside on the streets.
“Really, we were all in shock,” Mick Minter remarked. Alan was stunned. Hagler was strong, he said, and he had tried his hardest.
While Alan processed the defeat and medical professionals attended to his injuries, the Minters gathered themselves in the protection of the locker room. Fifteen stitches were needed for his cuts. The deep face wounds were later repaired with plastic surgery.
Howard Cosell greeted Marvin as he was hurried into a safe dressing room. In the past, the commentator had declined to refer to Marvin by his nickname, Marvelous. Let’s go with Marvelous tonight, Marvin remarked, walking up to Cosell in the dressing area and giving him a quick glance.
Despite the chaos he had just escaped, Marvin remained cool and collected during the post-fight interview. As he celebrated his win, he was focused solely on his work.
He claimed that tonight was the finest he had ever been. My goal was to kill him. That was my desire. I’m glad the referee broke up the fight since I was taking advantage of the man’s inability to see.
This bout will be remembered as one of the best in middleweight history, he continued.
Outside the arena, there was mayhem, rioting, and fires. While hooligans flung trash barrels and damaged windows, police beat rioters with billy clubs.
Cosell’s limousine was overturned. Bertha, Marvin, Ida Mae, Robbie, Goody, and Pat piled into an awaiting car. The windshield of the car was broken.
Man, you’re a fucking drive! Pat shouted.
The mob started rocking their limo. Some shouted: They robbed him!
It was very scary, Bertha said. They started shaking the car. We were just trying to get out of there. We were just trying to get our behinds in the car and get back to our hotel.
The vehicle was escorted by police from the arena and back toward the Bailey Hotel. The new champion, his family, and team piled out of the limo and scurried into the hotel under heavy police cover. Once safely inside, they were finally free to celebrate at the hotel bar, albeit with an air of solemnity, given the violence that had just unfolded.
Robbie and sparring partner Danny Snyder unfurled an American flag and the group broke into an impromptu rendition of God Bless America. Wainwright poured tequila and made good on a bet with Bertha to allow her to shave his head if Marvin won the title. Bertha took the straight-edge razor to the attorney s head right there in the hotel bar. It was a new look for Wainwright and one that he would keep for the rest of his life.
Marvin smoked a fat cigar with Goody and Pat and hugged Bertha and Ida Mae. The violence around Wembley died downas Marvin and his entourage partied into the early morning. They went to Heathrow airport the next morning and flew home.
We re never coming back to this place again, Pat said to Marvin.
Marvin never fought in England again.
While the term viral did not yet exist, photos of Marvin being shielded by Goody and Pat, Marvin s name emblazoned on their backs, went global via newswires. Instead of being focused on Marvelous Marvin Hagler finally winning the world middleweight title, the next day s newspaper headlines were about the riot. It was one of those historic sports moments captured in a single, powerful image.
The Western Daily Press in Bristol (UK) splashed A NATIONAL DISGRACE across its front page. Scotland s Daily Record s headline screamed NIGHT OF SHAME. The Manchester Evening News wrote: A NATION OF BAD SPORTS.
Back in Brockton a few days after the fight Marvin was celebrated in one of the biggest parades in the city s history, evoking images of Rocky Marciano in the fifties. He was driven down Main Street in a convertible sedan draped with American flags and a Marvelous Marvin Hagler banner. Wearing a tracksuit and his trademark dark sunglasses, Marvin shook hands with kids, smiled and waved as thousands lined the streets.
It had been nearly thirty years since Rocky was celebrated in downtown Brockton. The city had renewed pride. People were excited that a new fighter represented the city. At the end of the route, Marvin stopped and spoke to the press.
I ve fought everybody the speedballs, the sluggers, the runners, the short guys, the stocky guys, he said. Lots of times you get up in the morning and feel like crying. You do your running in the park and you keep thinking, Damn, this has got to pay off.
For so long, no one knew my name, he added.
