Jose Sulaiman’s battle against time

By James Blears

The other day upon the stair, a young reporter asked me what Don Jose was like as a man, and…I paused, not for thought, but to gather, collect and assemble a myriad of them.

I told him it would take me years to adequately describe the most extraordinary man, who possessed a vision and the drive plus the determination to see it through from inception to glorious fulfillment. The genius to birth and deliver boxing into the modern era, kicking and screaming from the pangs of new and fresh-faced safety measures, introduced via a long overdue slap on the butt.

Also, the gift of friendship, accompanied by that genial hand on the shoulder with the greeting: ‘’How nice to see you, my Dear Friend.’’ Yes, it`s almost impossible to fathom and realize, that it`s been twelve years since the passing of Boxing’s Greatest Ambassador, diplomat, Commissioner and Administrator.  For me, it brings to mind the poem which seeks to explain how the moments, years and decades are punctuated, but then purloined until only the vestiges and memories remain, albeit monumental…So:

What is time?

Nothing casts time asunder, even lightning and thunder,

As time isn’t yours’ or mine, it’s impossible to define.

Like sand on a beach, it eludes the fingers of outstretched reach,

Yet the clock is ticking with arteries thickening.

All the years have come and gone,

Am I half way there or almost done?

Is a year more mine or two or twenty?

Will it cut me dead or give me plenty?

At the end of his final Martes a Café press Conference which he himself invented, Don Jose hoped aloud that surgery At UCLA would extend his life another decade, as so much remained to be done. It still does. But in his wisdom, he left the legacy of life, heart and soul in his son, protegee and pupil Mauricio, possessing the DNA and PDQ zest, which simultaneously guarantees continuity and marvelous march of progress.

The Jose Sulaiman Fund, independently managed and administered by the Nevada Community Foundation, with grants for deserving retired boxers, who`ve been hit by hard times. The development of the Clean Boxing Program, whose motto is: ‘’You use, you lose,’’ because in this sport, which isn`t played, artificially enhanced performance poses horrendous life- threatening risks. Saving and bolstering amateur boxing and a helping hand for Olympic boxing to survive, enabling it to fight another day.

It’s taken more than a thousand and one nights to realize the dream of a WBC Grand Prix. But thanks to Turki Al-Sheikh and Mauricio, it’s become a tangible, brilliant success, heralding a crescent in the galaxy future for talented up and coming boxers.

In his masterpiece The Waste Land, T.S Eliot wrote that April is the cruellest month, describing the re-birth and desires, following the bleak depths of winter. But some beg to differ, after passing through the heavy oaken portals of the Old Basilica of Guadalupe, to poise themselves gingerly on the chilly pews. Those who have made this journey before are well wrapped up against the cold and blast of mid- January. Before and after the service given by Don Jose`s friend Maronite Bishop George Saad Abi Younes, who himself is greying around the temples with the passing of the years, there`s a chance to chat, smile and reminisce about:

Don Jose did it his way, via a legacy that will stay,

For a hundred years or more, passing into folklore,

And what is more, it`s all a Tour de Force…of course.

Come what may, the foundations and the fundamentals are in place. The rocks remain.