Sports Poets Society

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1998/10/12/american-hunger The Sporting Scene As Muhammad Ali revisits the night he dethroned Sonny Liston, a portrait emerges of a self-invented icon—and the America he remade. “Sometimes he sounds humorous, but sometimes he sounds like Ezra Pound’s poetry,” Archie Moore said of Clay.Photograph by Gordon Parks / Courtesy of Howard Greenberg Gallery DAVID REMNICK - The New Yorker By October 5, 1998 On the night of February 25, 1964, Cassius Clay entered the ring in Miami Beach wearing a short white robe, “The Lip” stitched on the back. He was fast, sleek, and twenty-two. But, for the first time in his life, and the last, he was afraid. The ring was crowded with has-beens and would-bes, liege men and pugs. Clay ignored them. He began bouncing on the balls of his feet, shuffling joylessly at first, like a marathon dancer at ten to midnight, but then with more speed, more pleasure. After a few minutes, Sonny Liston, the heavyweight champion of the world...

https://www.tuttobiciweb.it/article/2020/03/21/1584787777/giannu-mura-tour-de-france-marco-pantani-tour-1998-poesia-pantadattilo-pirata di Gianni Mura  per tuttoBICI - settembre 1998 E vai, pugnetto d’ossa, cardellino, Pantadattilo, Fossile, Pirata, insegui a pedalate il tuo destino Con bandana stretta, o la pelata che luccica nel sole del mattino non appena la strada s’è drizzata. Fragile come un vaso di Lalique, duro come il granito. Pantastique . E vai. Plateau de Beille sotto il sole Galibier sotto l’acqua, il cielo nero. Solo chi c’era trova le parole Per quest’inferno freddo, quasi a zero. Vuolsi così colà dove si vuole Ciò che si puote. E tu hai voluto, è vero, tu hai volato, trasvolato il Tour. Adesso è tutto tuo. Oh, les beaux jours . Adesso che è finito, siamo stanchi (tu forse più di noi) e un po’ a pezzi. Luciano Pezzi, bicicletta Bianchi: quanti ricordi traversano i pezzi. Deriva dolce che parte dai fianchi della montagna che farai a pezzi. Pezzi di cuore che saltano i...

https://www.irishtimes.com/sport/my-club-orwell-wheelers-1.168141 by Ian Riordan The Irish Times - Mon, Jun 29, 1998 David Daly is part of the distinguished cycling family in Dundrum, Co Dublin. His father, Joe , has run the bicycle shop for nearly 50 years , and his brothers Paul and Francis were also leading cyclists with Orwell Wheelers. The club celebrates its 50th anniversary this year [1998]  as an overall cycling club for the general Dublin area. Stephen Roche started his career there under early club mentors Noel O'Neill and Paddy Doran . Today it is still based in Dundrum , with an ideal source of training routes at the foot of the Dublin mountains. Membership:  Right now we have one of the lowest numbers, with about 35-40 members in the books. They are mostly racing or former racing cyclists , and there is a lack of new young riders coming through. We have a couple of female members also - our cheerleaders . Status:  We were always...

http://autobus.cyclingnews.com/results/archives/dec97/dec1.html News for December 1, 1997 In 1991, the cycling world became aware of the intralipid affair during the Tour de France. The Dutch PDM team, strong favourites, had to return home sick. The Geleen-based general practitioner was blamed. Here is a reconstruction. PDM manager Manfred Krikke prepared a military style operation for the 1991 Tour de France . The yearly sporting and publicity event in the Alps and the Pyrenees was an opportunity that could not be lost. The previous year, public favourite Erik Breukink arrived in Paris in third place . He was a potential Tour winner. His best years were to come. The whole team was approaching top form. Now must be their chance. Hotels were personally inspected for their peace and quiet, with cooks checking out the eating conditions, riders were personally selected and prepared, the medical routines were sharpened, and a complete contact book for media was desig...

https://www.nytimes.com/1997/02/23/sports/when-ali-performed-a-knockout-on-film.html By Dave Anderson The New York Times - Feb. 23, 1997 See the article in its original context from  February 23, 1997, Section 8, Page 2 -  Buy Reprints View on times machine WHEN you see him now, he's Muhammad Ali in name only. As he held the Olympic torch in Atlanta, the right hand that battered so many opponents shook with Parkinson's syndrome. In his rare television appearances, the voice that shouted amusing rhymes now mumbles. His eyes still twinkle, but his toes don't. Millions weren't even born when he was a three-time heavyweight champion. Millions of others have forgotten the flames and the fun of his reign. But the opportunity is there now for all those millions to see and appreciate Ali at the top of his game, and at the top of his lungs, in the days surrounding what he considered his proudest moment -- his eighth-round knockout of George Foreman in Zaire in 1974. ''Wi...