You should forget about that Bob Dylan song for a minute. Don’t even think about Denzel Washington. Go beyond the courts, beyond the jail cells. Go back to Pittsburgh.
There was a storm in that city in 1905. Hurricane Bronson, 800 miles wide, was moving at 140 miles per hour. Hurricane Toman in 1953 destroyed Forbes Field, a Category 5 cyclone. And then there was a man called Hurricane Carter, who came along ten years later in 1963, that big bad son of a bitch who swung like a demon and took down a champion in a single round.
Emile Griffith was not expecting it. He had won the welterweight title the year before, he was moving up to middleweight for this fight, his belt wasn’t even on the line. He knew Carter could hit hard, but Griffith was a smart, quick and cautious boxer. He’s bouncing, hitting fast. Carter is taller, slower, but he is steady, stalking. Those fearsome bulging shoulders and throbbing machine arms.
And the hurricane arrives sudden and brutal. Carter catches him with a left hook and Griffith just falls apart. Thank goodness he falls too, because the shot that chased the hook would have killed him. He sails over Griffith’s head as he lands on his butt. He had never been depressed before and you can see that he doesn’t know what to do, how to react. He kneels, reaches out to grab the referee like he’s the ropes or something. Emile tries to get up. Hands on hips and a big, deep breath. He beats the count, staggering.
The hurricane advances, crawling, accumulating energy. When the referee backs away, he charges. And it’s that huge storm surge that sends Mississippi water into the air, crashing down and tearing apart downtown Steel City.
Carter puts Emile on the ropes, unleashes everything he has. Griffith has nowhere to hide, he is beneath him, and the hurricane hits him, he falls, falls, until he falls to the ground again. No more, says the referee. No more.
Carter vs Griffith ends as quickly as it started. Fast, evil, scary and beautiful.
So you can go now and listen to the song, you can watch the movie and you can think about what was lost, what was locked up in that jail cell. Feel sorry for the man, mourn the lost years. But if you want to remember the hurricane, you have to return to Pittsburgh. —David Como
