SI Flashback By Ralph WileySugar Ray Robinson is no different from Sugar Ray Leonard. What he did best was fight. Like Leonard, he's not to be asked why he fought, and these days he can't be asked much of anything. He did indeed leave all the answers in the ring. But Ray Jr. had one thing exactly right about him. While his father may no longer be the Sugar, there was -- and is -- no one else like him. • Click here for full story.

The Angry Black Sportswriter had mellowed a bit with the seasons, but he still embodied the moniker he earned long ago. Ralph Wiley possessed a unique elixir of passion, reason, wry wit and black consciousness, and he shared it with a voice that stirred you, moved you, and, at times, even angered those touched by his words.

I had not seen Ralph for years before I saw him last -- a few months ago at the Sports Illustrated offices when he arrived with, of all people, Jim Brown, an Original Angry Black Man. And yet when he walked through the door, we embraced in a way that told each of us, as Chris Rock says with his gap-toothed grin, "I understand."

Ralph was a senior writer at SI for nine years beginning in 1982. We began to share a professional path five years later when I returned to the magazine as a senior editor after several years at The New York Times. I had left SI just before Ralph arrived, but I still cheered him from down the way as he made a name for himself, writing several lengthy profiles for the magazine, 28 of which adorned the cover.

Ralph understood athletes, and he sought to discover the core in each of them. "If you hang around a subject long enough," he said, "you'll get something that makes your story work." He usually found those nuggets in the darkest places -- places athletes prefer you not go.

During his years at SI, he shared revealing portraits of Jerry Rice, Sugar Ray Robinson, Thomas Hearns and ironman-in-the-making Cal Ripken Jr., among many others. He also gave light to many sports figures who may have otherwise been overlooked, folks like Clarence "Bighouse" Gaines, the legendary head basketball coach at tiny Winston-Salem State; son-of-a-legend Ken Norton Jr., who for years was estranged from his famous dad; and an emerging super sub on perhaps the greatest Los Angeles Lakers teams, Michael Cooper.

If you get a chance, check out a piece Ralph wrote during his early SI years -- an account of the life and tragic death of boxer Duk Koo Kim, who died four days after losing a lightweight title fight in a valiant display of will and courage against popular champion Ray "Boom Boom" Mancini.

Ralph and I worked together for a few years before he left SI to pursue a freelance career that led to books and numerous articles for other magazines. When I received a copy of his second book, I laughed out loud at the title: Why Black People Tend to Shout. The Angry Black Sportswriter had grown too much for this arena, becoming now a voice for black men in America in the '90s.

Ralph understood what we went through as men, as black men, and as black sports journalists in an arena that did not always embrace our views. That was the feeling expressed during our last embrace: I understand.

Ralph Wiley was just 52 years old when he stopped shouting last Sunday night. He died suddenly at his home in Orlando, Fla., suffering heart failure as he prepared to watch Game 4 of the NBA Finals between the Pistons and Lakers.

To young journalists who did not know Ralph, or may have met him only fleetingly, embrace this thought, one he expressed as the opening words of his tale on coach Gaines: So put the hymn book away already. Find something tangible. Do it the way he did it.

Roy S. Johnson is an assistant managing editor for Sports Illustrated.