Vernon Forrest

We can only hope that Vernon Forrest marks the end of an an unfortunate summer for boxing deaths. First Alexis, then Arturo, and now Vernon.

But who am I kidding? Boxing is a dangerous sport and its practitioners face far greater odds of death than most. It didn't make the top ten list, but I wonder if that's because the size of the overall population is relatively low. The thing about at least two of the aforementioned gentlemen is that they died due to the people that they hung out with and the places they traveled.

So, either you die Apollo Creed style, as was the case with Marco Antonio Nazareth or Benjamín Flores, two young Mexican boxers whose summertime deaths flew under the radar. Or you end up murdered like Mr. Gatti or Mr. Forrest. Clearly, I am generalizing here. Some boxers, like Johnny Caldwell, live relatively long lives and die from cancer.

So, what to make of Vernon Forrest? I've got to say, I sort of missed his career. Unlike Gatti, who was vaguely familiar with, Forrest's rise and glory days ocurred virtually unnoticed by me. But, he was an Atlanta-based boxer, just like Evander Hollyfield, who I did see one day in the Atlanta airport. But I don't want to give too much of that encounter away, given that Real Deal is very much alive, and I want to save that story for another day.

So, what of Vernon Forrest? By many accounts, he was a good guy. Clean living, well-educated, and charitable. He was the only man to ever drop Shuga Shane Mosley, which was quite impressive. And, given the age we all live in, yes, Mr. Forrest was involved in MySpace and Twitter... a perfectly good place to foretell his own demise.