Tag Archives: legend

UFC Champion, Conor Mcgregor Calls Floyd Mayweather ‘monkey,’ Floyd Looking For A Knockout

When UFC champion Conor McGregor and boxing legend Floyd Mayweather fight this month in Las Vegas, many experts predict it will shatter pay-per-view records. 

However, the fight might be more personal than many fans thought thanks to comments by one of the fighters. Conor McGregor called Floyd Mayweather “monkey” in one of their confrontations leading up to the fight.

Floyd Mayweather Interview

This shocking revelation came in a Floyd Mayweather interview with Stephen A. Smith on ESPN. Smith explained that he didn’t hear the “monkey” comment by Conor McGregor, but he did hear Conor call Floyd a “boy.” The difference is that McGregor calls everyone he fights “boy,” regardless of race or skin color. However, “monkey” has long been used as a derogatory statement towards black individuals.

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In the interview, Floyd Mayweather was very calm when talking about this racial insult. He simply said that he didn’t like it. Mayweather said that it didn’t make him “go crazy,” but he felt it disrespected those who came before like Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, who went on the front line for him and his family.

Mayweather then said that this sort of racism still goes on. MMAFighting reported that Floyd then said that he is going for a knockout in this fight and will not be fighting on the defensive.

Conor Mcgregor’s Response To The ‘monkey’ Statement

While it seemed very shocking for Conor McGregor to call Floyd Mayweather “monkey,” it wasn’t the first time he used the statement, and when asked about it, MMAFighting also reported that McGregor didn’t step back from the statement.

There was a YouTube video that reportedly showed a backstage interview on Jimmy Kimmel Live with Conor McGregor, where the UFC champion was asked about Rocky 3. McGregor responded by asking if that was the movie with “dancing monkeys in the gym.” In Rocky 3, the Sylvester Stallone character went to train at an all-black gym.

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That video clip was removed from the Jimmy Kimmel YouTube page.

When asked about the Floyd Mayweather “monkey” comments, Conor said that he was just trying to make light of the situation. McGregor seems to think it was part of his schtick, which included him asking Floyd to dance for him. Conor said that he knows who he is as a person, and “realistic people” will know as well.

Racism In Boxing

In a follow-up response to the Floyd Mayweather “monkey” controversy, ESPN analyst Stephen A. Smith once again said that he never heard the comments from Conor McGregor, but if it is true, he finds it highly offensive and a slap to all black people.

Smith then brought up the classic 1982 fight between Larry Holmes and Gerry Cooney, a boxing match that really separated the racial lines with promoter Don King and manager Dennis Rappaport using the “black vs. white” storyline to sell the fight. The media even referred to Cooney as the “Great White Hope.”

While both Smith and his First Take co-host, Max Kellerman, said that they believe that neither Holmes nor Cooney wanted the race card to be played, it made the fight a huge success despite many people making death threats to both boxers leading up to the fight.

Both George Cooney and Larry Holmes are close friends and have worked together for special causes ever since.

Stephen A. Smith said that the Conor McGregor vs. Floyd Mayweather fight might cause a huge racial divide similar to that of Cooney vs. Holmes.

Source: INQUISITR



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Novak Djokovic struggled in absence of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, coach Boris Becker

DENSDOME-  Tennis legend Boris Becker, the coach of Novak Djokovic, has claimed that the absence of superstars Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal from the ATP circuit due to injuries was one of the reasons for the Serb’s failure to maintain his number one ranking.

Djokovic, who was the world number one for the majority of the 2016 season, lost his crown to Great Britain’s Andy Murray who beat him at the season ending ATP World Tour Finals to end the year as the best player in the world.

Murray, who clinched the Wimbledon Championship and Olympic Gold medal this year, has won 24 matches in succession to claim the number one ranking and has become the first Brit to hold the spot since computerized rankings were introduced in 1973. He is also the second oldest player to claim the number one spot since John Newcombe did it at the age of 30 in 1974.

“He didn’t have any opponents anymore. His time was with Nadal, with Federer. Andy was always the fourth guy. So he lost a little bit of his opponents. Murray is showing something he hasn’t shown before”, said Becker as quoted by CNN.

The six-time Grand Slam winner who has been coach of the Serb since 2014, hailed the performance of his pupil calling him outstanding while also revealing that the Serb lost a bit of motivation post the French Open which made it difficult for the team management.

“The first six months were outstanding. His pinnacle was winning the French Open and winning four majors in a row. It hasn’t been done since 1969 by a player called Rod Laver. Naturally, his motivation was a bit off afterwards. He really didn’t know what the next big goal would be. Our hands were a little bit tied. He was focusing on off-court priorities, he wanted to spend more time with his family, he has other business interests”, the German legend added.

The German believes that Djokovic will emerge from his poor form and bounce back next year. With both Federer and Nadal too set to return soon, 2017 is sure going to be a power-packed season.

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The Sea King’s Daughter (A Russian Legend)

Told by:  Dennis Densland Okoemu


​Long ago in the river port city called Novgorod the Great, there lived a young musician named Sadko.

Every day, a rich merchant or noble would send a messenger to Sadko’s door, calling him to play at a feast. Sadko would grab his twelve-string gusli and rush to the banquet hall. There he would pluck the strings of his instrument till all the guests were dancing.

“Eat your fill!” the host would tell him later, pointing him to the table, and passing him a few small coins besides. And on such as he was given did Sadko live.

Often his friends would ask him, “How can you survive on so little?”

“It’s not so bad,” Sadko would reply. “And anyway, how many men can go to a different feast each day, play the music they love, and watch it set a whole room dancing?”

Sadko was proud of his city, the richest and most free in all Russia. He would walk through busy Market Square, lined with merchants in their stalls and teeming with traders from many lands. He never crossed the square without hearing tongues of far-off places, from Italy to Norway to Persia.

Down at the piers, he would see the sailing ships with their cargos of lumber, grain, hides, pottery, spices, and precious metals. And crossing the Great Bridge over the River Volkhov, Sadko would catch the glint from the gilded roofs of a dozen white stone churches.

“Is there another such city as Novgorod in all the world?” he would say. “Is there any better place to be?”

Yet sometimes Sadko was lonely. The maidens who danced gaily to his music at the feasts would often smile at him, and more than one had set his heart on fire. But they were rich and he was poor, and not one of them would think of being his.

One lonely evening, Sadko walked sadly beyond the city walls and down along the broad River Volkhov. He came to his favorite spot on the bank and set his gusli on his lap. Gentle waves brushed the shore, and moonlight shimmered on the water.

“My lovely River Volkhov,” he said with a sigh. “Rich man, poor man—it’s all the same to you. If only you were a woman! I’d marry you and live with you here in the city I love.”

Sadko plucked a sad tune, then a peaceful one, then a merry one. The tinkling notes of his gusli floated over the Volkhov.

All at once the river grew rough, and strong waves began to slap the bank. “Heaven help me!” cried Sadko as a large shape rose from the water. Before him stood a huge man, with a pearl-encrusted crown atop a flowing mane of seaweed.

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“Musician,” said the man, “behold the King of the Sea. To this river I have come to visit one of my daughters, the Princess Volkhova. Your sweet music reached us on the river bottom, where it pleased us greatly.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” stammered Sadko.

“Soon I will return to my own palace,” said the King. “I wish you to play there at a feast.”

“Gladly,” said Sadko. “But where is it? And how do I get there?”

“Why, under the sea, of course! I’m sure you’ll find your way. But meanwhile, you need not wait for your reward.”

Something large jumped from the river and flopped at Sadko’s feet. A fish with golden scales! As Sadko watched in amazement, it stiffened and turned to solid gold.

“Your Majesty, you are too generous!”

“Say no more about it!” said the King. “Music is worth far more than gold. If the world were fair, you’d have your fill of riches!” And with a splash, he sank in the river and was gone.

The next morning, Sadko arrived at the market square just as the stalls were opening. He quickly sold the golden fish to an astonished merchant. Then hurrying to the piers, he booked his passage on a ship leaving Novgorod that very day.

Down the Volkhov the ship sailed, across Lake Ladoga and the Gulf of Finland, and into the Baltic Sea. As it sped above the deep water, Sadko peered over the rail.

“In all the wide sea,” he murmured, “how can I ever find the palace?”

Just then, the ship shuddered to a halt. The wind filled the sails, yet the ship stood still, as if a giant hand had grasped it.

Some of the sailors cursed in fear, while others prayed for their lives. “It must be the King of the Sea!” the captain cried. “Perhaps he seeks tribute—or someone among us.”

“Do not be troubled,” called Sadko. “I know the one he seeks.” And clutching his gusli, he climbed the railing.

“Stop him!” shouted the captain.

But before any could lay hold of him, Sadko jumped from the ship and plunged below the waves.

Down sank Sadko, down all the way to the sea floor. The red sun shone dimly through the water above, while before him stood a white stone palace.

Sadko passed through a coral gate. As he reached the huge palace doors, they swung open to reveal a giant hall. The elegant room was filled with guests and royal attendants—herring and sprats, cod and flounder, gobies and sticklebacks, sand eels and sea scorpions, crabs and lobsters, starfish and squid, sea turtles and giant sturgeon.

Standing among the guests were dozens of maidens—river nymphs, the Sea King’s daughters. On a shell throne at the end of the hall sat the Sea King and his Queen.

“You’re just in time!” called the King. “Musician, come sit by me—and let the dance begin!”

Sadko set his gusli on his lap and plucked a merry tune. Soon all the fish swam in graceful figures. The seafloor crawlers cavorted. The river maidens leaped and spun.

“I like that tune!” declared the King. He jumped to the center of the hall and joined the dance. His arms waved, his robe swirled, his hair streamed, his feet stamped.

“Faster!” cried the King. “Play faster!”

Sadko played faster and the King’s dance grew wilder. All the others stopped and watched in awe. Ever more madly did he move, whirling faster, leaping higher, stamping harder.

The Sea Queen whispered urgently, “Musician, end your tune! It seems to you the King merely dances in his hall. But above us, the sea is tossing ships like toys, and giant waves are breaking on the shore!”

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Alarmed, Sadko pulled a string until it snapped. “Your Majesty, my gusli is broken.”

“A shame,” said the Sea King, winding to a stop. “I could have danced for days. But a fine fellow you are, Sadko. I think I’ll marry you to one of my daughters and keep you here forever.”

“Your Majesty,” said Sadko carefully, “beneath the sea, your word is law. But this is not my home. I love my city of Novgorod.”

“Say no more about it!” roared the King. “Prepare to choose your bride. Daughters, come forth!”

The river maidens passed in parade before Sadko. Each was more lovely than the one before. But Sadko’s heart was heavy, and he barely looked at them.

“What’s wrong, musician?” the King said merrily. “Too hard to choose? Then I’ll wed you to the one who fancies you. Behold the Princess Volkhova!”

The princess stepped forward. Her green eyes were sparkling, and a soft smile graced her lips. “Dearest Sadko, at last we can be together. For years I have thrilled to the music you’ve played on the shore.”

“Volkhova!” said Sadko in wonder. “You’re as lovely as your river!”

But the Sea Queen leaned over and said softly, “You are a good man, Sadko, so I will tell you the truth. If you but once kiss or embrace her, you can never return to your city again.”

That night, Sadko lay beside his bride on a bed of seaweed. She’s so lovely, thought Sadko, so charming—all I ever hoped for. How can I not hold her?

But time after time, the Queen’s words came back to him—never return to your city again— and his arms lay frozen at his sides.

“Dearest,” said the princess, “why do you not embrace me?”

“It is the custom of my city,” Sadko stammered. “We never kiss or embrace on the first night.”

“Then I fear you never will,” she said sadly, and turned away.

When Sadko awoke the next morning, he felt sunlight on his face. He opened his eyes and saw beside him not the Princess Volkhova but the River Volkhov. And behind him rose the walls of Novgorod!

“My home,” said Sadko, and he wept—perhaps for joy at his return, perhaps for sadness at his loss, perhaps for both.
                              * * *
The years were good to Sadko. With the money that remained to him, he bought a ship and goods enough to fill it. And so Sadko became a merchant, and in time, the richest man in Novgorod. What’s more, he married a fine young woman and raised a family. Many a feast he would hold so he could play his gusli and watch his children dance.

Yet sometimes still on a quiet evening he would walk out of the city alone, sit on the bank, and send his tinkling music over the water. And sometimes too a lovely head would rise from the river to listen—or perhaps it was only moonlight on the Volkhov.