Joe Frazier may have been able to give and take all manner of beatings in the boxing ring, but out of it he was easily wounded by unkind words. I discovered this when, shortly after he’d beaten Muhammad Ali to become undisputed world heavyweight champion, he made the mistake of believing himself to be a soul singer as well as a boxer.
Possibly imagining a second career in music, Frazier toured Europe in 1971 accompanied by a band called the Knockouts. I never heard him sing, but according to the reviews he was not good. And by the time we met for an interview in his tiny hotel room in London, he was close to tears, at a total loss to understand why he was being ridiculed.
Having just returned from a run, and, stripped to the waist as, by habit, he smashed one vast fist into the other, his chest seemingly almost as deep as it was wide, this ex-abattoir worker looked a menacing sight.
But in conversation he was sensitive and kind, upset by taunts, and talking at length about his father who had died early and never enjoyed the fun and luxury Smokin’ Joe could have shared with him. Of all the hundreds of interviews I’ve done Joe Frasier impressed me more than most.
