By Norm Frauenheim-
TUCSON, Ariz. – Father and son both wore black caps made specially for a mission that has been underway for a couple of generations. War, it said in bright white stitching.
It’s a familiar message, one made famously by Marvin Hagler, who wore it on a red cap before his legendary victory over Thomas Hearns more than three decades ago.
Eugene “Cyclone” Hart and son Jesse Hart borrowed the message, a declaration that this time they intend to bring home a title to hang alongside those caps in the Hart household. There always has been an empty hook in the family closet. A belt is missing
Dad never got the opportunity to fight for one during an era when there were fewer of them.
But that chance is there Friday when Jesse (22-0, 18 KOs) attempts to take the World Boxing Organization’s super-middleweight crown from Gilberto ‘Zurdo” Ramirez (35-0, 24 KOs) in the arena at Tucson Community Center on a ESPN-televised card (7:30 p.m. PT/10:30 pm ET) that features featherweight Oscar Valdez in a WBO title defense against Filipino Genesis Servania.
“He gave me a shot,’’ the 66-year-old Eugene Hart said Wednesday at a news conference in rhetorical tip of that back cap to a 28-year-old son determined to give his dad a title he was denied so long ago.
If there were a rating in a ratings-crazy sport for the best fighters who never got a title shot, Eugene Hart would have to be there. There’s no one he didn’t fight, including Hagler, who won their war in 1976 with an eighth-round stoppage at the old Spectrum in Philadelphia. He was a Philly fighter, which meant ducking anyone was simply out of the question.
He lost to Vito Antuofermo. He got knocked out by Bennie Briscoe. He also fought Briscoe to a draw. He beat Sugar Ray Seales. He lost to Willie “The Worm” Monroe, Bobby “Boogaloo” Watts and Eddie Mustafa Muhammad.
Hart’s 30-9 record, including an astonishing 28 knockouts, is full of legendary names, nicknames and lessons about how much the game has changed. These days, some kind of title — from acronym to interim — would be at stake.
But not in his day. There were only scars and the pride to fight on. Turns out, those scars and pride are lot more memorable than some shiny tin on a cheap plastic strap. But that belt is part of today’s business. You need at least one, and Jesse Hart figures he can fill that vacancy on his resume while also filling that empty corner in his dad’s closet.
“Mentally, I feel like this is the time, my time,’’ he said a couple of days before what might be the best fight on the Top Rank-promoted card. “I’ve never been more ready, never more prepared to do what I have to.
“I’m ready, but I’m calm.’’
Call it the calm before the storm. Jesse Hart stirred up some pre-fight flak with trash talk on his twitter account. He promised to do this, that and who-knows-what-all to Ramirez, a likable soft-spoken Mexican from Mazatlan.
“But that’s business,’’ he says.
In person instead of within 140 characters, Jesse Hart is as likeable as Ramirez.
“I think he’s a good fighter and a fine champion,’’ the good son said while wearing the hat with the three-letter word that suggests he won’t be so polite at opening bell.
In terms of civic pride, Hart has as much to fight for as Ramirez does. For Ramirez, there is the pressure that every Mexican champ has. Mexico’s pride in its fighters has deep roots, including an uncompromising set of demands for courage and sometimes blood.
For Jesse Hart, there’s the Philly tradition, which his father embodies, even without a title. Jesse Hart says that even Bernard Hopkins, the recently retired face of Philly boxing, talked to him about how important Friday night’s fight is.
“I want to be part of those great names,’’ Jesse Hart said just days before a fight about family and Philly and everything that makes them inseparable.
