On Dec. 14, 2007, boxing historian Hank Kaplan, who inspired many of the writers on this very website, passed away in his sleep at the age of 88. Hank was a close friend to feature writer Charles Jay and editor-n-chief Rick Reeno.  Hank took Jay and Reeno (among many others) under his wing, and gave them the kind of schooling in the sweet science that money can't buy. The knowledge Hank would pass along in every phone conversation was priceless. Hank was without equal, regarded by many as the top boxing historian and archivist in the world. 

Age was just a number to Hank, he never slowed down. Many a night (and sometimes several in a row), Hank would outlast Jay, promoter Mike Acri, Reeno, feature writer Patrick Kehoe and Johnny Bos, in marathon phone conversations. Hank loved sharing old stories, a few laughs, and debating on the latest happenings and fighters in the sport.

To the very end, Hank was a trooper. 

BoxingScene.com pays tribute to the late Hank Kaplan with a reprint of  "Too Much Ring "Rage" in DeNiro's LaMotta," written by Hank and originally published in March 1981, shortly after the theatrical release of Raging Bull.

By Hank Kaplan

THEY set me up. All week long I had been getting phone calls telling me how great the movie was. "The acting is terrific." "See the fight scenes......the best you ever saw......go see it......just see it." I was hyped so I visited the neighborhood theater and took time out for "Raging Bull."

This is no critique but just my impression of a movie which I was led to believe was a motion picture about a famous boxer and boxing. A lingering question as I exited the theater was why Robert DeNiro, a great actor, to be sure, studied for so long the boxing style and technique of Jake LaMotta, only to depict a boxer so unlike the Bronx Bull that to identify him would be impossible; furthermore, why the fight scenes, as they were interspersed with a suddenness to make your popcorn flutter, for the most part told no part of the story.

DeNiro had it within his grasp to illustrate a style of boxing so unique it was one of a kind in LaMotta's time. One day boxing historians will hallmark him as an important link in the evolution of one important American style of boxing. Jake was a proponent of the inside school of boxing. He belonged to a developing group who believed you were less vulnerable to damage at the center of the flame than on the edge of it. It is not every man's kind of guts that will put you up close to Bob Satterfield's brand of fireworks and Jimmy Reeves' and Sugar Ray Robinson's.

Sure, "Hammerin" Henry Armstrong was around. He stayed on top of his opposition and punched incessantly. With eyes focused on his opponent's feet, Henry aimed for a head he knew was inevitably there. He introduced his own kind of instincts to boxing and a durability the world had never seen before. His attack had an even greater intensity than Harry Greb used to dish out. Jake was another fighter who gave his opponent few breathing spells, but he did it with cleverness; he was a bobbing and weaving whirling dervish at close range who robbed his opposition of the space needed to load up. In the ring he was no "Raging Bull." He was tactical, abiding and tenacious. Nobody ever shook him off or eliminated him until Danny Nardico caught him as an old man with thirteen years experience in the ring.

The movie told a story of a man tormented by jealousies. It failed to tell the story of a boxer unique to his profession who reached the highest rung of the professional ladder or how he got there. In a passing moment the film offered a clue on the 5'8" LaMotta's dream of becoming heavyweight champion of the world. It missed the opportunity to show how he reached out for the bigger and stronger guys like Lloyd Marshall, Lorenzo Strickland, Jimmy Reeves and the devastating Satterfield. It fell short on telling the story of his fearlessness or his rush to hit the jackpot. His twenty times to the post in his first ten months as a pro told of a 20-year-old ready to prove his worth. Nor did it show the point in his career when he was stalemated around his native city of New York, which forced his invasion of other formidable areas. And there was always the presence of real competition in the opposite corner of any LaMotta bout. No matter the eminence of his opponents, he remained on his feet with over a hundred fighters who tried to take him down.

What made Jake run? What made him so durable? So determined? This is the story of Jake LaMotta. Not his domestic affairs and family squabbles. That kind of stuff can be found set aside as fillers on any small town city desk. I wouldn't drop a rerun of "Sanford and Son" for George Bernard Shaw in a wife beating scene.

DeNiro and company dwelled on the throwing of a fight with "Blackjack" Billy Fox in 1947 in order to trade for a shot at the title during those sordid days of boxing. There is no erasing this misdeed, but LaMotta will never be viewed as an evader or quitter. He tossed gloves against the greatest fighters of his time and moviegoers without record books missed that all the way. He committed a sin but he fought back to redemption. He did not stumble over unambitious stiffs in his quest for the title. Instead, he clawed his way through the hungriest carnivores in a jungle thick with them. Recall the names of Joe Basora, Ossie "Bulldog" Harris, Bert Lytell, Holman Williams, Nate Bolden, Tommy Bell and dozens more, including his scorchers against Ray Robinson. Nobody can ever deny his honesty as he faced the greatest ringmen of his time.

As with the latter-day Joey Giardello, despite their transgressions, boxing would have been guilty of abandonment if Jake LaMotta had not enjoyed a time, however brief, to sit on the middleweight throne. Like Philadelphia Joey, the Bronx Bull never sidestepped anybody. He lost to some but came back on a second chance proving his cleverness, pluck and determination. He proved the Bull can be tricky as well as the matador, but this was not demonstrated in the film.

The boxing clips were integrated as incidental sojourns into the movie. Except for DeNiro tripping out, one could hardly justify their inclusion. It contributed little to the assessment of LaMotta as a boxer. The flick may win the Oscar at year's end for its social scenes in a struggling Bronx tenement district, but it is no boxing account. It missed the point all the way.