Word: holyfield
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...anyway," he said without regret, only a little embarrassed after the T.K.O. Commending Taylor, "a good technician," Lecce confessed he had been unable to rouse any prefight bile. "Like everyone else I was very proud of these guys," he said softly, and by then the pipes were calling Evander Holyfield...
...world's three best teams were missing, after all. The first American gold-medal volleyball team was thoroughly unbothered by the asterisk. Nationalism was rampant but ugliness restrained. The boxing mobs were as sour as the judging: it is probably too soon to tell Evander Holyfield, a U.S. light heavyweight disqualified for not pulling his punches, that in the end this heartache may end up distinguishing him from the crowd of champions. The ironies of the Games usually outlast the scores: Swimmer Rick Carey is criticized for preferring a world record to a gold medal; Carl Lewis is blamed...
...breaks went the Americans' way. Evander Holyfield, 21, an unheralded, hard-slugging light heavyweight from Atlanta who had won his first three bouts by knockouts, suffered a bizarre loss to a thoroughly outclassed Kevin Barry of New Zealand. Holyfield was disqualified for striking a blow after the Yugoslav referee had ordered a break. Never mind that the punch knocked out Barry; never mind that Barry had been fouling Holyfield and was on the verge of disqualification; never mind that Holyfield probably could not have heard the referee's command over the crowd noise. But do bring to mind...
...losses or judging reversals were the rare exceptions as the U.S. juggernaut rolled on. Even ABC'S Howard Cosell, the unofficial cheerleader of the team, seemed taken aback at the one-sidedness of the competition. Said Cosell, just before Holyfield's disqualification: "The overwhelming succession of American victories has become almost embarrassing." Nearly every weight-class competition yielded a U.S. champion with a distinctive style and something to prove...
Professor Ernest A. Rudge of West Ham Municipal College was on a picnic with his wife near Holyfield, twelve miles northeast of London, when he first noticed the odd, pear-shaped stone. Made of pebbles embedded in sandstone (conglomerate), it looked like a pudding full of raisins. To Archeologist Rudge the stone seemed out of place in that area; there is no native conglomerate within five miles...