Day 22159

Years ago, I was a member of the United States Air Force. The government decided that it would be best that I was sent to Las Vegas to repair boilers.

One of the benefits of being a poor airman on a Las Vegas Air Force base is that the casinos would occasionally send show tickets to the base. While it was always a nice gesture on their part, I think it had more to do with filling empty seats, especially if it was for a televised event.

That’s how I ended up with a $500 ticket to a boxing match at the Riviera. So my buddy Vinny and I headed to the show. It should be noted that I’m not a big boxing fan, but when given the opportunity to see the whole fight night thing arises, you should take it. I’ve also been to Arabian horse shows and WWF matches thanks to free tickets. Oddly enough, the horse show and the boxing match had a very similar vibe.

The Riviera was one of Las Vegas’s older hotels, and even in 1985 was showing its age. The boxing was broadcast on HBO and Sugar Ray Leonard was slated to be a commentator. I only realized this when walking to the venue several very large men screaming, “Champ’s coming through! Here comes the champ!” pushed me out of the way and Sugar Ray walked by.

Vinny laughed at me.

We found our seats, which was a little disappointing. The venue was set up in a hotel ballroom and our seats were the kind that would be stacked and stored in a closet somewhere. We weren’t even close to ringside and, obviously, it was going to be difficult to see anything. If there was one positive, my seat was on the aisle that eventually led to ringside. It was down this aisle that all the celebrities coming to the fight came down.

The atmosphere was electric and Vinny and I were enjoying the spectacle. Muhammad Ali was even kind enough to give me one of those fake punches when I shouted, “Hey Champ!” (It was a huge fist and I was truly glad he didn’t hit me with it.)

During a boxing event such as this, there were several fights on the undercard before the Main Event. If you ask me who was fighting at the Main Event, I could not tell you for sure. I think maybe is was Jose Luis Ramirez vs. Hector Camacho, but I wouldn’t bet money on that.

Seeing the ring was difficult, but it was even harder because the woman in front of me was standing on her chair. My frustration go the better of me and I shouted at the woman, “Hey! Quit standing on the chair!”

The woman hopped down and turned to face me, her expression a mix of embarrassment and superiority. It was Diane Keaton I had told to sit down.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” I said to her. “You still shouldn’t be standing on your chair. It blocks the view of everyone behind you.”

She smiled a bit and turned back around. Vinny laughed at me again. “I can’t believe you just told off Diane Keaton.”

I have a feeling she may have thought the same thing. Rest in peace, Ms. Keaton. From what I’ve read, you were well loved and respected. You just shouldn’t stand on a chair in front of people at a boxing match, even if it was someone with a free ticket.