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Gerald McClellan
by Thomas Gerbasi (April 26, 2002)
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 NEW YORK, April 26 - Ace photographer Teddy Blackburn, who receives the
Boxing Writers Association of America's "Good Guy" award tonight, said "when
you see Gerald for the first time, it will change the way you feel about
boxing."
He's referring to Gerald McClellan, the former WBC middleweight champion who
had his life altered permanently by a brutal bout with Nigel Benn in 1995.
The Freeport, Illinois native is blind, nearly deaf, and can barely walk.
And yes, seeing him for the first time does alter your perception of the
sport sometimes referred to as the "Sweet Science".
There's nothing sweet about what happened to McClellan, no silver linings or
happy endings. Lisa McClellan, Gerald's sister, said that in terms of her
brother's health, "I think this is about it as far as any big progress." So
he will never see his three children again, never hit a heavy bag with
reckless abandon, or do roadwork in the morning.
And it can happen to any boxer.
"It's a wake up call," said middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins, who
visited the G-Man in his hotel room yesterday. "I could be Gerald McClellan
after any fight I fight."
McClellan, 34, arrived in New York yesterday evening with Lisa and his Aunt
Lou after a 19-hour train ride from Freeport. It was the first time
McClellan had been out of his hometown since he returned home after surgery
for a subdural hematoma suffered in the Benn fight. The reason for the trip
is to share the 'Good Guy' award with Blackburn, who humbly told Lisa after
being notified, "I didn't come to see your brother and my friend to win an
award. But since I did win, I want you both to come and share it with me.
This is Gerald's day, not my day."
Says Lisa, "We were really excited for Teddy because he's been there, and he
's done so much to keep Gerald's name out there."
Unfortunately, McClellan's damaged brain has erased many of his memories,
including those of his career, his fights, and his friends. After a little
prodding, Gerald remembered Blackburn, who remembered the drill of tapping
McClellan's hand once for yes and twice for no.
"Teddy," said McClellan, "You are a friendly man, a handsome man, and a
helluva talent."
He then proceeded to drill Blackburn on not only his love life but also his
weight. "Are you ashamed of your weight?" laughed Gerald, unable to see,
but able to smile.
Just as suddenly, McClellan will yell out for Lisa, reaching out for someone
to hold his right hand, a sign of security for Gerald, who ironically used
his right hand to knock out most of his opponents.
Blackburn returns, and the two continue their conversation. It's a
bittersweet time for the Michigan native who currently resides in the Bronx.
"I make a living taking pictures of boxing and I love boxing, but when you
see a friend, a fighter that you know, someone you've shot pool with and
watched tapes with, and you see him with a vacant look and knowing that he
might be in that chair for the next 30-40 years, blind and with faded
memories, I say, 'what's wrong with me?'"
It's a question many of us have asked ourselves, but we still thrill to a
good fight, appreciate a talented warrior, or even a gutsy kid who
overachieves and gets one of those boxing rarities: a break. Most of all,
after these conflicts of conscience we usually gain a greater appreciation
for those who step into the ring.
And McClellan remembers that he was not only a fighter, but also a world
champion. "Show the G-Man's moneymaker," said Lisa, and McClellan raises
his right fist, which looks as imposing as it did when he was knocking out
foes with very little effort in the early to mid 90's. "At times," says
Lisa, "if he's talking to me, he'll talk as if he's retired, he's hurt, he's
got brain damage, and he's blind. But if someone else talks to him about
boxing, he talks like what happened seven years ago never happened. I think
that's why he got upset at the train station because he doesn't like for
anyone to say that he's not fighting anymore."
Light heavyweight champ Roy Jones Jr., one of the few in the boxing
community to still support Gerald's trust fund, has never gone to see his
amateur nemesis (McClellan owns a victory over Jones) because many believe
HE won't fight again.
Hopkins, in town to receive the Fighter of The Year award, has wanted to see
Gerald for some time, and the opportunity presented itself last night.
Still his loquacious self, Hopkins did look visibly shaken after spending
time with McClellan. "I'm angry because no one other than Roy Jones and some
others have done anything for Gerald McClellan," said Hopkins. "Money's not
always everything, but he needs help. I have a two and a half year old
daughter. Who's going to take care of her if I end up like this?"
In watching McClellan and Hopkins interact, there's a selfish side that
makes you wish that the G-Man was healthy so he could trade blows with the
pride of Philadelphia. "He was a threat to everyone in the division," said
"The Executioner", who was wary to give out any of his trade secrets.
"When you're sparring with these guys any of them show you something?" asked
Gerald. "You hurt em?"
Hopkins answered yes and McClellan grabbed the champion's fist. "Put it on
my chin."
"Not too hard, I don't want to put you to sleep," retorted Hopkins.
"You ever had a streetfight?" inquired McClellan.
"About 100,"
Once again, McClellan grabs Hopkins' hand and asks him to repeat after him
while tapping his hand, "This guy sounds like me and him will get together
and make some money."
McClellan smiles as the room erupts in laughter. He still looks the same as
when he terrorized the middleweight division, and though he requires 24 hour
a day care from his sisters, he still has fight left in him, as evidenced
when he yelled, "I can wheel myself," when Lisa was trying to assist him
into his hotel room.
Lisa and Sandra McClellan have been selfless in helping their brother,
effectively putting their lives on hold for what may be forever. For Lisa,
it's a labor of love. "I told someone the other day that I never give it a
second thought," she said. "If I did give it a second thought then maybe I'
d realize that I put my life on hold, and I'll think about the reality of
it. But I don't even think about it."
Not that she has the time. Both sisters are raising children in addition to
caring for Gerald, which has become a full-time job as well. "He's with
Sandra from about 8 to 4, and she gets him out everyday," said Lisa. "And
then he's at my house in the evening. We try to put him on the treadmill
three days a week. Plus we have kids who are in sports so we've been going
to track meets and baseball games, just to get him out."
Seeing his own children has also become a part of Gerald's routine. Gerald
Jr. 13, and Forrest 12, are still in Freeport and being raised by their
mothers, and Mandell 7, is being raised by her mother in Detroit. McClellan
sees Forrest every day, and Gerald Jr. on the average of once every couple
of weeks.
Another visitor, Blackburn, may come to Freeport less frequently, but is
nonetheless still affected by the condition of his friend. "I waited over
two years to go visit him," he remembers. "It took me a long time to get the
guts to go see him because I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. I was
knocked out myself. I held his hand for three hours, once for yes, and
twice for no. It was hard to see him."
Blackburn's reason for keeping Gerald's name in the public eye is also
fairly straightforward. "He's a friend, and I felt bad that everybody forgot
him."
In spurts, public awareness of McClellan's plight has helped keep the trust
fund used for his care afloat, with a CNNSI feature on him last year being
the most obvious aid. "A lot came in, not just money, but cards from the CNN
story," said Lisa. "It picked up quite a bit, but has died down a little
now. We get maybe four or five pieces of mail a week."
Lisa admits, "We do what we have to do," to care for Gerald, and despite her
brother's injuries, "I still love boxing."
But don't cross her, as she remains fiercely protective of her brother, like
any good sister would be. "The reason why I'm so fond of people like Teddy
is because they haven't just jumped on the bandwagon after seven years," she
said. "What's important to me is who's been there and who's still there,
not somebody who is in today and out tomorrow."
The fair-weather friends have come and gone, and Gerald McClellan will never
have the life he dreamed about when he was on top of the middleweight
division. The life he lives now is far removed from anything that we could
ever imagine living. But he does live it, along with his family and
friends. Oh, Teddy was right; after seeing Gerald I will never look at a
fight or fighter the same way again, but that may be a good thing. Because
maybe after more people in the industry see Gerald they too will feel the
same way, and reforms can be enacted to care for fighters once their careers
are over.
It would be a legacy to be proud of.
Send Contributions for Gerald McClellan to:
Gerald McClellan Estate
Fifth Third Bank
PO Box 660
Freeport, IL 61032
For Questions or Comments
E-Mail Thomas Gerbasi at tgerbasi@mindspring.com
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