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By B.J. Phillips

Duran quits in the eighth, and Leonard regains his crown

For nearly a decade there has been no figure in boxing as fearsome as Roberto Duran, the Panamanian primitive with the famous "hands of stone." It was not merely his daunting record: 72 victories during a 13-year career (55 by knockouts), a single loss, championships in both lightweight and welterweight divisions. It was how Duran fought: with a burning-eyed fury that was atavistic, nihilistic, merciless in his rage to win. When he defeated Sugar Ray Leonard last June to strip the Olympic hero of his welterweight crown, Duran at last won recognition as not only the fiercest but perhaps also the finest fighter of his time.

So it came as a stunning surprise to the approximately 25,000 fans in New Orleans' Superdome--and especially to Leonard--when Duran simply quit fighting 2 min. 44 sec. into the eighth round of their 15-round match. Duran first waved a dismissive fist at Leonard, then turned away. Leonard, thinking the gesture a taunt from the proud Panamanian who had sneered at him in contempt throughout the early rounds, closed in with a flurry of punches. Duran turned his back to the blows. Referee Octavio Meyron separated the fighters, then waved them in to fight again. Once more, Duran turned away. "Fight!" Meyron ordered. Duran finally shook his head: "!No mas! No more! No more box." Leonard looked on in disbelief for a long moment, then vaulted across the ring and leaped up on the ropes, hands high in triumph. The World Boxing Council welterweight crown was his once again.

What made Roberto pack it in? One explanation is that he knew he was losing--he trailed on all three judges' scorecards--and he let his anger and shame get the best of him. After the fight, Duran offered another reason: he had got stomach cramps during the fifth round, and as the fight wore on the cramps spread into his upper body. "I felt I was weakening," Duran said. "My body and arms were weakening. This happens to anybody. It is an accident. Leonard also was weakening, but I could not pressure him."

Duran's burning intensity seemed to wane as the match progressed. Leonard, who had wasted his superior speed during their bout last summer by electing to slug toe-to-toe with Duran, wheeled around the ring in high gear this time, sticking the Panamanian with flicking left jabs and evading his head-on charges. By the seventh round, Leonard was so in control of the fight that he turned the tables on Duran and became the taunter. He windmilled his left arm until Duran was mesmerized, then tagged him with his right--a classic sucker punch. Leonard dropped his arms and leaned forward to stick his face out, daring the hardest slugger in the game to hit him. Duran tried, but too many of his punches fell short. Said Leonard: "I saw him slowing down. I noticed his pace change. I looked in his face and I saw the change. The sneer was gone." Still, Ray Arcel, 81, Duran's cornerman, was stunned when his man quit. "I have never seen him throw up his hands and stop," Arcel said. "I almost fainted when I saw it. I don't even have a vocabulary to express my amazement."

Dr. Orlando Nunez, Duran's physician, found the words. Throughout Duran's career, he explained, the fighter had endured agonizing diets to meet the strict requirements of his weight divisions. Often he ballooned more than 30 lbs. between fights and had to starve and sweat away the excess weight. Duran relinquished his lightweight crown in 1978, after 12 successful title defenses, so he could move into the heavier welterweight division.

But the appetite problems continued.

Duran had to slim down for his rematch with Leonard. After the weigh-in at noon on the day of the fight, Duran gulped some bouillon, then went out for a steak and French fries. Later in the afternoon, he was still intensely hungry, and though his physician advised against it, he ate another steak dinner. The sudden feast after weeks of dieting may have led to the cramps. Said Dr. Nunez: "Roberto wasn't beaten by Sugar Ray Leonard. He was beaten by two sirloin steaks."

Not quite. Leonard fought a masterly fight, sidestepping Duran's bull-like charges and refusing to be caught on the ropes. He showed superior tactical skill, never wasting a punch and landing virtually all those he threw. With a 3-in. advantage in reach, he stabbed Duran in the face with a jab of crackling speed and accuracy. He counterpunched furiously when Duran managed to close on him, and though Duran landed several walloping rights, Leonard shook them off and returned the fire. When the fight ended, Leonard summed up: "Duran has heart. He's been a great champion for years and years. It must have been something very serious to make him quit. But I won fair and square, I beat him emotionally and I beat him physically."

Nevertheless, a lot of fight fans who had paid up to $1,000 for a seat came away feeling cheated. Cries of "Fix!" echoed through the embarrassingly uncrowded Superdome and carried over into the narrow streets and bars of the nearby French Quarter far into the night. The Louisiana Athletic Commission slapped the fighter with a $7,500 fine for "unsatisfactory performance."

Duran insisted that, satisfactory or not, it was his last fight, and that from now on the hands of stone will never do anything more strenuous than count the estimated $8 million he earned from this fight (Leonard made about $6 million). Said Duran: "I have been fighting for a long time. I have gotten tired of the sport. I am going to retire." As criticism of his eighth-round walkout grew, however, Duran had second thoughts. "I will not retire and I will seek a revenge fight with Sugar Ray Leonard," he said. Lest any paying customers feel cheated, he said he would give his share of the purse to charity.

By B.J. Phillips. Reported by Peter Ainslie/New Orleans

With reporting by Peter Ainslie

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