Sonny Liston Takes the Fall | Apex Magazine
Sonny Bono is one of those very, very unusual people you meet With his election who will ever forget Sonny's early stay in the House. I wonder how many of those of you who are here with me today About halfway through the remarks, he turned, and it looked as though somebody was a little perplexed. SONNY gives a delicious smile in the direction of the Maid-of-Honor, LUCY MANCINI. She returns DON CORLEONE Nazorine, my friend, tell me what I can do. . LUCA comes toward them to meet TOM HAGEN halfway, just near their table. Like "Sonny waz here" and maybe meet his prior employer. The little notes don' t bother me so they can stay, but I rather not have Sonny in a game again. I thought the feedback was at least halfway positive towards him.
Discipline, and the Bible. Here you'll receive both. Put your trust in the Lord. Your ass belongs to me.
Talk to me boy! I know you're there. I can hear you breathin'. Don't you listen to these nitwits, you hear me? This place ain't so bad. Tell you what, I'll introduce you around, make you feel right at home. I know a couple of big old bull queers that'd just love to make your acquaintance. Especially that big, white, mushy butt of yours.
I don't belong here! We have a winner! And it's Fat Ass, by a nose! I wanna go home! I want my mother! I had your mother, she wasn't that great! What the Christ is this happy horseshit?! You took the Lord's name in vain; I'm telling the Warden!
You'll be telling 'im with my baton up your ass! You gotta let me outta here! What is your malfunction, you fat barrel of monkey-spunk? I ain't supposed to be here. I ain't gonna count to three. I'm not even gonna count to one; you will shut the fuck up or I will sing you a lullaby! You've made a mistake! You don't understand, I'm not supposed to be here! They run this place like a fucking prison!
Taking out his baton, Hadley savagely beats the new inmate. Son of a bitch. Cap, take it easy. The inmates, who had been shouting and cheering when the guards first arrived, are now silent. Every last motherfucker in here! His first night in Shawshank Prison, Andy Dufresne cost me two packs of cigarettes. He never made a sound.
Always liked that one. But I prefer, "I'm the light of the world; he that follows me shall not walk in darkness but shall have the light of life.
John, chapter 8, verse Almost forgot; I'd hate to deprive you of this. Mozart to keep me company I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it, though. Didn't make too much sense in here. No, here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don't forget.
That there are places in the world that aren't made out of stone. What are you talkin' about? Let me tell you something, my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane. It's got no use on the inside. You'd better get used to that idea.
That's Cristoyou dumb shit. You know what that's about? It's about a prison break. Well, we ought to file that under Educational too.
Sonny Liston Takes the Fall
My wife used to say I'm a hard man to know. Like a closed book. Complained about it all the time. God, I loved her. I just didn't know how to show it, that's all.
I didn't pull the trigger. But I drove her away. That's why she died, because of me. The way I am. A bad husband, maybe. Feel bad about it if you want to, but you didn't pull the trigger. And I wound up in here. It's got to land on somebody. It was my turn, that's all. I was in the path of the tornado.
And the Sun Comes up Chapter 2, a supernatural fanfic | FanFiction
I don't think you ought to be doing this to yourself, Andy. This is just shitty pipedreams. I mean, Mexico is way the hell down there and you're in here, and that's the way it is. Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'. Man missing on Tier 2, Cell You're holdin' up the show. I'll thump your skull for ya! I got a schedule to keep!
You better be sick or dead in there, I shit you not! I want every man on this cellblock questioned. What do you mean he just wasn't here? Don't say that to me, Haig. Don't say that to me again. But, sir, he wasn't. That's what you say? Am I blind, Haig? Tell me what this is. Stands to reason he'd still be here in the morning!
I want him found NOW! Not tomorrow, not after breakfast, NOW! I see you together all the time. Thick as thieves, you were. He must have said something. Lord, it's a miracle! Man up and vanished like a fart in the wind! Nothing left but [grabs Andy's stone figures] damn rocks on the windowsill. And that cupcake on the wall [points at the poster]. What say there, fuzzy britches?
Why should she be any different? That's what this is. Do you feel you've been rehabilitated? Well, now, let me see. You know, I don't have any idea what that means. Well, it means that you're ready to rejoin society, to— Red: To me it's just a made-up word.
A politician's word, so that young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and have a job. What do you really wanna know? Am I sorry for what I did? There's not a day goes by that I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: I want to talk to him.
I want to try to talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. That kid's long gone, and this old man is all that's left.
I gotta live with that.
It's just a bullshit word. So go ahead and stamp your forms, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit. A little bit crazy, a little bit fierce, a little bit desperate, and ignorant of the concept of defeat under any circumstances. Until he met Cassius Clay in the ring. First time was inand I watched that fight live in a movie theater.
I remember it real well, though. Liston was a monster, you have to understand.
His opponents would flinch away before he ever pulled back a punch. So that was Liston. He was a stone golem, a thing out of legend, the fucking bogeyman. He was going to walk through Clay like the Kool-Aid pitcher walking through a paper wall. And we were all in our seats, waiting to see this insolent prince beat down by the barbarian king.
And there was a moment when Clay stepped up to Liston, and they touched gloves, and the whole theater went still. Because Clay was just as big as Liston. Liston retired in the seventh round. And Cassius Clay, you see, he grew up to be Muhammad Ali. He told me about the other one. Phil Ochs wrote a song about it, and so did Mark Knopfler: Popular poets, Ochs and Knopfler, and what do you think the bards were? It never goes away. Ochs, just to interject a little more irony here, paid for his power in his own blood as well.
Twenty-fifth child of twenty-six, Sonny Liston. He never would meet my eye, even there in his room, this close to Christmas, near the cold bent stub end of The bear was a teddy bear when you got him around children. But he told me all about that fight.
How he did what they told him in the most defiant manner possible. So the whole fucking world would know he took that fall. Mohammed Ali got lucky. Hit a nerve cluster or something. It was a fluke, a freak thing, some kind of an accident. Sensible man, if you happen to ask me. Sonny Liston was supposed to win.
And Muhammad Ali was supposed to die. The one thing in his life that Sonny Liston could never hit back against was his daddy. Sonny, whose given name was Charles, but who called himself Sonny all his adult life. Sonny had learned the hard way that you never look a white man in the eye. That you never look any man in the eye unless you mean to beat him down.
He did his time in jail, Sonny Liston. He went in a boy and he came out a prize fighter, and when he came out he was owned by the Mob. You can see it in the photos and you could see it in his face, when you met him, when you reached out to touch his hand; he almost never smiled, and his eyes always held this kind of deep sonorous seriousness over his black, flat, damaged nose. Sonny Liston was a jailbird. Sonny Liston belonged to the Mob the same way his daddy belonged to the land.
Cassius Clay, God bless him, changed his slave name two days after that first bout with Sonny, as if winning it freed up something in him. Muhammad Ali, God bless him, never learned that lesson about looking down. Boxing is called the sweet science.Meet Me Halfway
And horse racing is the sport of kings. When Clay beat Liston, he bounced up on his stool and shouted that he was King of the World. An angel in the boxing ring. A new and powerful image of black manhood. He stepped up on that stool in and he put a noose around his neck. The thing about magic is that it happens in spite of everything you can do to stop it. And the wild old Gods will have their sacrifice. The civil rights movement in the early s found Liston a thug and an embarrassment.
He was a jailbird, an illiterate, a dark unstoppable monster. The rumor was that he had a second career as a standover man—a mob enforcer. Sonny Liston was a puncher. Muhammad Ali was a boxer. Neither one of them, as it happens, could abide the needles. So when they went swinging into the ring, they earned every punch they threw. Smack a sheetrock wall a couple of dozen times with your shoulder behind it if you want to build up a concept of what that means, in terms of endurance and of pain.
I would have taken the needle over feelingthe bones I was breaking. Taken it in a heartbeat. But Charismatic finished his race on a shattered leg, and so did Black Gold.
What the hell were a few broken bones to Sonny Liston? You know when I said Sonny was not a handsome man?