One tough dude: Rest easy Ron Stander

When I heard that former heavyweight contender Ron Stander had died, I thought of the man I encountered a few years ago. Ron and his wife Toddy were traveling through my town of Brentwood, CA to see relatives. I asked if we could meet for coffee. Toddy readily agreed. 

So, there I was, on Saturday afternoon traveling a few miles to meet a man I had seen battle a legend in 1972. As I walked from my car, I spotted Ron, standing like an oak tree with a glint in his eye, and after we met and he started to tell me stories, a mischievous smile. 

The man was amusing. He battled several of the top heavyweights of his time. The scars on his face revealed what he had done for a living so many years ago, but there were no regrets - only misgivings over some of the people who managed him.

We talked about the night he battled undefeated heavyweight champion Joe Frazier, who the year before had handed Muhammad Ali his first loss. The fight was in Omaha, Neb, and Stander, 27 at the time, carried the hopes and dreams of the entire state with him into the ring. 

He entered the bout with an outstanding record of 23 wins and one loss. He was a stalk and rock brawler and proud of it. Ron Stander came to fight, not swap pictures. 

In 1970 he had faced power-punching Ernie Shavers. Stander was the underdog. That night in Omaha, Shavers used Stander’s head as a battering ram. 

“He hit me with everything,” recalled Stander. “Hardest puncher in heavyweight history. His punches were like a nightstick. Snap!"

The beating went on for two rounds. Somehow, Stander was still standing. He rallied in rounds three and four. He didn’t stop punching until Shavers collapsed in a heap in round five. Stander boxed 10 times in 1970. He defeated Manuel Ramos and banked four fights in a row before facing Frazier. 

Stander knew he had a puncher’s chance against Frazier. He’d do what he always did, “go for it.” 

Seconds after the opening bell, Stander connected with a right that appeared to bother Frazier. Seconds later, a combination seemed to buckle Frazier’s knees, sending Stander’s hometown fans into a frenzy.

Frazier, always a slow starter, came out smoking in round two. He cracked Stander with powerful hooks to the body and head. 

Undeterred, Stander kept coming. He tried to land an uppercut against Frazier, who fought like a man chopping down a tree -but Stander, cut over his right eye, and with a left that was barely working, kept punching. His nose, broken a few weeks before the bout, was gushing blood. 

Stander was wobbled and blinking away blood as the round ended, but he wouldn’t quit. Stander somehow fought back in round four. 

Frazier absorbed the blows and kept up the punishment. Stander couldn’t see. 

Still no quit. 

The fight was stopped between rounds four and five. Stander felt like he let all his admirers down, but he was universally praised for his courage and determination.

Stander would fight for eight more years but the dream was over. He told me he fought for the money.

“It was a paycheck,” he said. 

I got it. Seconds after remembering the apex of his boxing career, Stander was cracking jokes at his wife’s expense. I could tell that he knew how lucky he was to have a lady like Toddy, who protected his reputation and loved him unconditionally.

His eyes sparkled when he looked at her. 

That’s love. 

I’ll think of Ron Stander every time I drive by the place we met. I’ll smile over his kindness and stories. 

His warrior spirit will never die. 

Rest in peace Ron.