Micky Ward reflects on historic first bout with Arturo Gatti 20 years later

LOWELL — As he was slugging it out in the ring at Mohegan Sun in Connecticut, Micky Ward wasn’t thinking about making history.

A more practical thought entered his mind.

“I was just trying to get out of there with my head still on my shoulders,” the 56-year-old Lowell legend said with a laugh.

Ward was referring to his May 18, 2002, majority decision victory over Arturo Gatti, a classic fight still regarded as one of the best in boxing’s lengthy history.

Following the ninth round, an exhausting three minutes which saw both fighters throw a near endless amount of punches as a crowd of 6,254 roared in approval — and disbelief — at what they were witnessing, legendary trainer Emanuel Steward couldn’t contain himself.

“This should be the round of the century,” Steward gushed to an HBO audience.

At the time, Ward was just happy to have won. He didn’t think much about it. Two decades later, he understands the significance of the fight — and his two subsequent wars with Gatti — in boxing history.

“That’s crazy,” he said of the fact that 20 years have passed. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Sometimes it feels like it was a lifetime ago.”

A sense of melancholy comes over Ward when he watches the fight, which he rarely does. Gatti died in 2009 while vacationing in Brazil. Authorities ruled Gatti committed suicide. Ward didn’t believe it then. He doesn’t believe it now.

Unlike such fighters as Muhammed Ali and Joe Frazier, who disliked each other outside the ring, Ward and Gatti grew close after the last of their three epic fights in 2003, in Atlantic City, N.J., the final one of Ward’s career.

“That’s the worst part about it,” he said of watching the Gatti brawls. “We became best friends.”

The first Ward-Gatti fight was ruled the fight of the year by Ring Magazine and HBO Boxing called it one of the 10 greatest fights of all time.

In the fourth round, Ward was sent to the canvas after Gatti hit him low with a left hook. A key point was deducted from Gatti.

The ferocity of the fight actually increased in the later rounds, culminating in a whirlwind 180-second ninth round which is exhausting to even watch. Ward knocked down Gatti, who barely rose off the deck in time. Gatti rallied. Then Ward took control again.

Ward, who defeated Shea Neary in 2000 to win the world WBU light welterweight title, has heard it called the greatest round in boxing history. Such comments stop him in his tracks, something Gatti was unable to do that night inside the Connecticut casino.

“There’s been millions of rounds. To be considered is crazy,” he said. “It’s crazy. It’s only three minutes, but it seems like it went by in a minute because there was so much action. I never got hurt once in the first fight. The second and third fights I was hurt.”

Who would have thought, Ward said, that “a kid from Lowell” would be associated with the greatest round in boxing history, one of the best fights (Ward-Gatti I) and three of the best fights — the Ward-Gatti trilogy?

After all, he said, he was just as interested in baseball and football while growing up in the city.

When he does watch the first fight with Gatti, he’s amazed at how loud punches are. But he’s not surprised at how his 36-year-old body was able to go 10 grueling rounds with a tough customer like Gatti.

He credits his brother, Dicky Eklund, for training him, and his nephew, Sean Eklund, with going on long runs with him to aid his conditioning. Those runs included running up and down Fort Hill in Lowell.

Ward disclosed that he partially tore his left bicep muscle while sparring three weeks before the first Gatti fight. He went to a Tewksbury chiropractor nearly every day in the days leading up to the May 18 clash.

That bicep muscle still droops, he said. In typical Ward fashion, he never talked about the injury. He certainly never considered postponing the fight.

“Hell, no,” he said. “I was ready. You never know if you’re going to get that shot again. It didn’t bother me in the fight. I didn’t even think of it.”

Ward still lives in Lowell with his wife, Charlene. He still goes to the gym and hits the speed bag. He underwent eye surgery after his “brain shifted” while absorbing a punch from Gatti in their final fight. He suffers headaches as many as five times a week, some of them “bad.” He also has exhibited signs of chronic traumatic encephalopathy, or CTE, a degenerative brain disease.

He admits his memory can be spotty. Upon his death, his brain will be donated to Boston University.

But he has no complaints. Or regrets. He knew the risks of boxing when he stepped into the ring.

He sells merchandise (box2burngym.com/shop), including items celebrating Ward-Gatti I, and interviews people like former world boxing champions Mike Tyson and Larry Holmes for a mobile app.

He doesn’t have to rewatch his legendary May 18, 2002, fight with Gatti to remember the atmosphere inside Mohegan Sun when it appeared half the city of Lowell was there cheering him on.

“It was crazy. It was buzzing,” he said.