“The Duke is a harrowing tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, and a gripping read. Don’t miss it.” —T. J. English, New York Times bestselling author Havana Nocturne An American Gothic… In the early 1990s, Tommy Morrison, a young roughneck from Jay, Oklahoma, burst onto the boxing scene to become one of the most controversial fighters of his era. Handsome, eloquent, and dynamic, Morrison parlayed destructive knockout power and a homespun personality into celebrity status throughout middle America, where boxing rarely prospered. But it was his starring role in Rocky V alongside Sylvester Stallone that propelled him to stardom–and ultimately led to his tragic downfall. His brush with Hollywood fame triggered a limitless appetite for parties, liquor, and sex. When Morrison was shockingly diagnosed with HIV in 1996, his life imploded, and his subsequent descent into drugs, prison, bigamy, and conspiracy theories made Morrison notorious long after his glory days had ended. In The Duke, Carlos Acevedo chronicles Morrison’s tumultuous life from his days as a teenaged Toughman contestant, to his victory over George Foreman, to his struggles with HIV and depression, to his death at forty-four, when his delusions finally overtook him. Morrison himself was a divisive figure but critics and readers are unanimous about Acevedo’s The Duke. “This is a big American saga writ large, just the sort of tortured tale Carlos Acevedo tells so well.” —Don Stradley, author of The Hagler–Hearns and Three Rounds for the Ages “I love how Carlos Acevedo writes. He's detached and immersive, observant and detailed, unsparing and fair. He brings to life what I love—and what I don't love—about boxing. That's clear in The Duke, which examines not just Tommy Morrison, but Morrison's place in boxing, celebrity culture, and the greater sports consciousness. It's the perfect marriage of writer and subject, written sharply, broadly and expertly—and hard to put down.” —Greg Bishop senior writer, Sports Illustrated
Tommy Morrison is probably one of the most tragic figures in boxing. He was hyped as one of the many “Great White Hope” fighters that was pursuing the heavyweight boxing title. That was a very prestigious title in sports during his career in the 1980’s and 1990’s and he achieved that goal. Of course, this was during the time when boxing had some many sanctioning bodies – some of them with questionable credentials. But nonetheless, Morrison did obtain one title with his defeat of George Foreman in 1993, earning the WBO (World Boxing Organization) heavyweight title. However, this book by Carlos Acevedo, a very well-respected boxing author, does much more than recap Morrison’s fights and his life.
It should be also noted that Morrison not only was a celebrity due to his boxing but also as an actor. He played the part of Tommy Gunn in Rocky V and while the movie was not as big a blockbuster as the other movies in that franchise, it did earn Morrison some celebrity status outside of the boxing and sports world, and this is important when discussing his private life, as will be noted later and also is done well by Acevedo.
The book is divided into two parts, and they are drawn out at the time of a very shocking (at the time) announcement: in 1996, Morrison publicly announced that he was infected with the HIV virus. That was a jolt to the boxing world – and also in the sporting world, who still was grappling with a similar announcement by Magic Johnson in 1991. Since at the time HIV was still considered a death sentence and much incorrect information was being circulated about HIV and AIDS, it was a very big deal to learn of Morrison’s announcement.
Part I of the book deals mostly with Morrison’s early life and his boxing career, with some passages about his movie role as well. He ties the two of them together well when possible. A great example of this is when Morrison defeated Foreman for the WBO title but yet the audience and media were not satisfied with this performance. Acevedo writes that the crowd was “expecting more Tommy Gunn and less Running Man, but he was also lambasted by the media” and then further indirectly quotes a boxing writer accusing Morrison of cowardice during the Foreman fight. There are many more examples of this type of writing in Part I.
However, Acevedo saved the best for Part II, which deals with Morrison’s life, both in and out of the ring (and courtroom and jail) after his announcement that he had tested positive for HIV before a scheduled bout with Arthur Weathers. If you have not heard of Arthur Weathers, that is perfectly fine – as Morrison had built up his record on many unknown and less than average boxers, something Acevedo notes frequently in both parts. Acevedo also has many excellent statements that show not only his knowledge but also his wit and use of the language, such as this one about one of Morrison’s many trainers in the boxer’s career – this trainer, “like so many others in a sport that seemingly took its cues from Dada or the Marx Brothers, he was susceptible to delusion.”
Morrison also was heavy into conspiracy theories after his diagnosis as well as having an issue with telling the truth. He had stated that he was living a healthy lifestyle to combat his diagnosis, when in reality he was still very promiscuous and taking drugs. He was frequently criticizing the advances made in combating the disease, saying they were not effective or even true for various reason. He eventually succumbed to the disease at age 44 in 2013.
For readers who remember Tommy Morrison, whether for his boxing or his role in Rocky V, this book is one that will tell his complete story, warts and all and is a riveting fascinating look at one of the more tragic celebrities in our time. Yes, there are many of those types of stories, but this book is one that tells about one such tale in a well-written manner.
If you’ve read Acevedo before, in the various online publications he’s written for, or in his first book “Sporting Blood: Tales from the Dark Side of Boxing,” his latest offering will feel familiar. The depth and breadth of his research, a quality that sets him apart (and above), is once more used to powerful effect. Consider the paragraph on Morrison’s tuneup fight against fellow Toughman alum Brian Scott. In using their fight to illustrate the “carnivalesque atmosphere of the boxing substrata” Morrison finds so comfortable, even comforting, Acevedo writes:
“They meet at the Expo Square Pavilion, where the Oklahoma City Cavalry (Continental Basketball Association) play, where the Shrine Circus performs, where the Cocker Spaniel Club sometimes holds events, where the Pinto Horse Association National Championships have taken place, where Royce Gracie wins UFC 4, in the days when MMA was considered human cockfighting, where the Gun and Knife Show is always a crowd favorite.”
Here history does more than provide context: it empowers readers to draw on their knowledge to develop an image of the Expo Square Pavillion, of the “carnivalesque atmosphere.” This description without description; an engaging rhetorical strategy possible only because Acevedo has learned what readers likely have not and then empowered them with it.
Acevedo employs several somewhat obscure but strikingly apposite literary references in The Duke. “Now more than ever, it seems, Morrison and the boxing underbelly are intertwined like the characters in the final, bleak pages of McTeague, handcuffed to each other (one of them a corpse) in Death Valley, California, waiting for the blistering sun to render its impersonal judgment.” The reference is superb, as is the sentence that drives the image home. The blistering sun (indicative of the pressure Morrison and his enablers come under as their obfuscating efforts unravel); the impersonal judgment (emphasizing that whatever justice awaits the players in the Morrison swindle is a reasonable response to their skullduggery). And isn’t render, “to reduce or melt down by heating” the verb to pair with that blistering sun?
In writing of Mike Tyson, who parallels Morrison, and figures repeatedly in the book, Acevedo writes: “As his curbside Mr. Hyde persona began to reveal itself more often, Tyson started losing one deal after another, morals clauses repeatedly triggered, like a run of bullseye targets in a pinball machine.” The rhyme, “curbside…Hyde,” is a delight, as is the simile, surely an original. Then there is Acevedo’s description of Morrison’s almost exclusively woebegone opposition, that series of “handpicked opponents from the back of the beyond.”
But such talent is familiar to you if you’ve read Acevedo before. The novel experience in reading The Duke comes in Part 2, where Acevedo lays bare the truth and complexity of Morrison’s HIV denial and somehow, makes sense of it. It is a remarkable undertaking, all the more impressive for the sensitivity of the material. And for the absurdity of that material too. It would be easy to dismiss with a haughty scoff the risible theories that undergirded Morrison’s threadbare claims about his HIV status. It would be lazy too. Instead, Acevedo is charitable throughout, presenting Morrison’s side fairly and richly before refuting that tortured logic and flimsy argumentation with a preponderance of evidence.
But this isn’t a book about tinfoil hats or the war on expertise, it’s a book about a person, and Acevedo encourages us to remember that in the closing pages. “The things he did, the things he said, the life he led at the end--all seemingly incompatible with virtue,” writes Acevedo, “But Morrison was born on a moral crossroads.” The Duke grippingly explores and explains what it means to be born under such circumstances. And it serves as further proof that, while Acevedo has, unfortunately, stopped writing about contemporary boxing, he has moved successfully into a medium more deserving of his considerable talents.
As someone who followed the career of Tommy Morrison I enjoyed this book and learned a lot about his personal and health struggles. This book loses stars due to the dismissive characterizations Acevedo made in reference to some fighters and fights which came off as disrespectful to the men who get into the ring and risk it all. He also could've taken a more nuanced and compassionate tone with Morrison instead of using the whole book to disparage him at every turn. Morrison, like everyone else, is responsible for his actions and wasn't immune from any negative consequences deriving from bad decisions, but his life also existed in a context. Growing up in an abusive and chaotic household, struggling financially, father guiding him into reckless behavior, and thrown to the vultures of professional boxing? There is no empathy or contextualization for how a pattern of self-destruction may have emerged?
This is a brutally honest account of a fighter who was a heavyweight contender with tremendous box office appeal but who couldn't cope with his personal demons. As a sportswriter who covered much of Morrison's career, this book brings back a lot of memories for me and once again poses the question of why we can get so enthralled by a sport that reeks of brutality, personal dysfunction and corruption. A good read.
Lived this book. Acevedo knows the world of boxing and writes beautifully. The story of Morrison is a classic American failure tale. Read this if you are interested in boxing or just a biography of a very sad but interesting Tommy Morrison.
If you have a love/hate relationship with boxing like i do, this is a great read.
I always knew Tommy Morrison was a POS, but I thought it was the CTE that turned him that way... turns out he was born a POS, and even the AIDS couldn't make him an even remotely decent person.
Less a biography than a compendium of fuck-ups on the part of former professional boxer Tommy Morrison. To the credit of Mr. Acevedo, he managed to cap this at 200 pages. It's safe to say that Mr. Acevedo is not reporting from a neutral corner; there's a clear disdain for his subject, which of course, is understandable. Having lived in the Tulsa area during Morrison's apogee, I thought the local press ran cover for his various proclivities, and welcomed the different perspective. The Duke reads like a sports journalism piece, though Mr Acevedo writes above the norm in that discipline and has a good handle on the shady behind the scenes world of professional boxing. Still his similies are endless and often don't connect. The author comes across as a bit preachy early in Part 2 when discussing HIV and there a a few too many perhapses, probablies, and maybes--though with Morrision's demonstrable rap sheet, pretty much anything gets traction. Overall, The Duke is advertised--a head shaking account of a career, and ultmately, a life, wasted.
This had the appearance of a well researched book and the author had obviously gone to great lengths to satisfy the factual documentation of one of the most colourful characters in a boxing era/division littered with colourful characters.
It does occasionally demonstrate signs of repetition and is, on occasion, shamelessly disrespectful toward the records and performances of some of the boxers mentioned in it.
What makes it lose stars is how pointlessly disrespectful it is on occasion which leaves a little bad taste as a result.
It is sometimes overly verbose in ways that seem unnecessary and whilst I wouldn’t describe it as being hard work, it is just so needless, like many of the quotes that litter the content which - at only 202 pages start to finish - make you wonder if they aren’t there for padding purposes.
This isn’t to say that it wasn’t informative or even a decent read, it just doesn’t deserve more than three stars which is incredible when you consider the controversial subject matter that is Tommy Morrison.
Now we know for certain: Sylvester Stallone was responsible for Tommy Morrison’s HIV!
Insomuch it was Stallone who first exposed Morrison to steroids [as means of making his upper-torso appear more camera-ready for Rocky V (1990)]. Had Morrison not got hooked on juicing, he wouldn’t of suffered from the ED side-effects… necessitating repeatedly injecting his dick, on the exact same injection-site <???> (just to feed his sexual addiction); More or less, preserving an open-wound on his member …supposedly starting some time in the late-1980s into the early-90s.
4.25 stars Tragic is the word that comes to mind after reading this book. Tommy’s career, life, his relationships… tragic. He was probably the next Great White Hope after Cooney, and he just couldn’t keep it together… He died too young at 44, but hopefully he is at peace. Good read for any boxing fan.
Feels like a good companion piece to the 30 for 30 doc about this as they both seem to cover different things. There is so much about his fighting and his battle with HIV, but it doesn’t mention the last wife he had that fed into all of his bullshit that HIV didn’t exist.
The analysis of Morrison's fights with Foreman, Mercer and Ruddock were the book's highlights from a boxing perspective. For a boxing fan looking for in-depth analysis of Morrison's other fights, Acevedo disappoints. Despite the fame he achieved, Morrison's career was rather unremarkable, thus making this part of the book a bland read.
If your interest in Morrison is his descent into bizarre HIV denialism, then you may enjoy this more. The editing here seems very sloppy at times. Acevedo claims Morrison is the first openly HIV-positive athlete to compete in an event--does Magic Johnson's Dream Team run not count? Another example, George Foreman fought Axel Schulz in April 1995, not April 1985. And when do courts of law pronounce criminal defendants "innocent" as opposed to not guilty?
Well researched but hopelessly biased. It seems like the author had an axe to grind with Morrison for reasons unknown, the way he spends copious amounts of time assasinating Morrisons character, his credibility as a Heavyweight champion and the validity of his fights. Your time is better served watching the countless movies on Morrison on youtube instead, which at the very least offer much greater objectivity towards their subject.