Smokin' Joe Frazier Banned Me from His Gym and Later Invited Me to a BBQ

I was sad to read that Joe Frazier died and that at the time of his death, he was living over his gym. The house I visited was modest by champ standards, and the apartment over the gym was pretty gross -- some of his boxers stayed there.

Why was I banned? Because Joe was a little confused. 

A housemate of mine from Altoona was recruited by Joe. Great kid -- Kevin Fasick. Anyway, we were about the same age, maybe Kevin was a little younger, and he used to invite me to the gym. One day I finally went, and, well, I was nineteen, okay?

Lots of people kind of milled around and hung out and worked out, and it was something to do instead of going to class. Joe thought I liked his nephew or cousin or something -- there were a ton of guys he called kin who weren't. I *think* Marcus isn't his son son, but is related and maybe was adopted or something. I'm not sure about that, but whatever.

Marcus was the main attraction, and Kevin was being trained, and I met this guy I did like (who lived over the gym), but the guy Joe thought I liked I actually didn't like.

Joe got tired of seeing me there, I guess, was afraid I'd make babies with his nephew who already had several and wasn't a boxer or really doing much of anything that I could gather, and maybe Joe was a little tipsy.

He started cussing me out, grabbed me by the arm and threw me out the door, and told me to never come back. 

When Joe Frazier gets in your face, even if he's wearing a suit vest, no shirt and drinking a wine cooler (really), you get the fuck out with the quickness and You. Don't. Go. Back. (Unless it's late and you sneak upstairs to see the guy you *do* like.)