Sport: For Love of a Smelly Art

In the latest of the last of the big fights, Marvin Hagler and Tommy Hearns argued vehemently for and against boxing, proving both positions. It was horrible and magnificent. The first round is being called the best ever, though there have been a few fights before and Dempsey-Firpo was well received in 1923. Even retreating, Hearns slugged boldly. Hagler was a monster. He swears, "I love the boxing game like a little boy," though this was far from the effect. "I love the smell," he says, even of his own blood, diluting his sweat like a hemorrhage in a sink, rendering his face a red rage.

For eight minutes and one second in all, the first three minutes especially, they flurried in a slaughter house. Immediately Hagler's forehead was opened and Hearns' right hand was crushed, injuries not exactly unrelated. Only to Hagler did the first round seem brief. "I hated to hear that bell ring." He could make out the shouts from Hearns' corner to box, box, box. "I wanted him to continue fighting me."

Like Sugar Ray Leonard against Roberto Duran, Hearns selected masculinity for a style, if the choice was his. "I started out slugging because I had to, it was there," he insists. "Marvin started running in. I had to protect myself." Like Duran, Hearns learned the leaden lesson of moving a few pounds up, in his case from 154 lbs. to 160, where men no longer fall apart when you hit them.

A world champion since 1980 but a middleweight for 14 years, Hagler is a 160-lb. fighter of old, physically and spiritually. There had been some doubt about the latter, a result of Hagler's own occasional caution. But now nine years removed from his two losses in 65 fights, to Philadelphians Willie ("the Worm") Monroe and Bobby ("Boogaloo") Watts, the champion has finally turned the public corner at 30, after coming down that bravest street in boxing, where Stanley Ketchel, Harry Greb, Tony Zale, Rocky Graziano, Jake LaMotta, Sugar Ray Robinson and all the veterans of middleweight wars hang out. The usual lopsided faces congregated again last week in Las Vegas, not just for the big fight but for LaMotta's sixth wedding. Jake is 0 and 5. In the middle of the ceremony at Joey Maxim's place on the gambling strip, a telephone rang but a riot was averted. "What round is it?" LaMotta joked. Someone answered, "Sixth."

In their second round, Hagler pressed the advantage of his deeper strength and resolve against Hearns' greater height and reach until Tommy teetered simply from lack of leverage. Trying to lean far enough away from Hagler to hook him, Hearns sent himself sprawling a couple of times. Hagler punched and pushed him to the ropes. During the final training, Hearns had displayed himself in a casino ballroom complete with aerobic girls, while Hagler locked the door at Johnny Tocco's downtown gym. "I wanted to be able to smell a gymnasium," he explained, "to get back to what got me where I was." Their relative courses showed in the second round, which ended in a frightful Hagler body barrage that hinted the third of the scheduled twelve would be the last.