My kids and I are cruising the 70s on YouTube looking for heroes. I’ve already shown them Evel Knievel, Dr. J., Ernie Ladd, Joe Namath, and right when I’m about to hit play on the fight, my son asks me why, if I love Joe Frazier so much, don’t we watch a fight he actually wins. Before I even open my mouth, I feel my father’s voice rising up from the recesses of my lungs, all lathered up and ready to dissertate on how styles make fights, not outcomes, and how there’s more to winning than victory, and what real courage looks like, and how much of it you’d need to get BACK in the ring with a monster like Foreman (hell, Ali didn’t want any of that!), and why champs never give their belts back once they’ve won them, how CHAMP is for life…but it’s just us in the room now, so I hit play and tell him, “Both these cats are on their feet when this one ends, and I wouldn’t call either of them a loser.”