"I have all the pressure on me because all the fighters want to say, 'I beat Sugar Ray's big brother,' " complained big brother. "People expect more out of me because I'm Ray's brother. I put out 100% in every fight, but you can't always fight every guy the same way."
And if Ray is Sugar, what is Roger?
"Just Roger, please. I don't need any more pressure."
In the seventh three-round bout of the night, Just Roger went in against Clinton Jackson, 24, a deputy sheriff in Davidson County, Tenn. and a teammate of Sugar Ray's on the '76 Olympic team. Sugar Ray knelt near ringside the first two rounds, shouting advice and encouragement to Roger. But as a heavily tattooed man in the second row sourly remarked, "Just because one brother can fight don't mean the other one can."
Jackson, a quarterfinalist at Montreal, tagged Leonard early and the referee made him take a standing eight count. Then Jackson knocked him down. Leonard fared a little better in the second round and even managed a crowd-pleasing Ali shuffle in the third. Then the left-handed Jackson floored him a second time. By this time, Sugar Ray had moved to the reserved-section bleachers. At the bell, both fighters raised their hands, but the winner was clearly Jackson.
"I've won six of the seven times I fought him," said Jackson. "He won the last time, but it was just a week after I'd had an operation on my chest. I got married in Knoxville on July 14. My wife's name is Cynthia. I didn't take my honeymoon because I wanted to stay home and train and then come and beat this guy."
Two nights later Jackson TKOed the Army's Ed Green to win the division. That done, he prepared to take his delayed honeymoon to Nassau.
The festival's archery range was a fine expanse of healthy grass near the U.S. Air Force Academy gymnasium, north of Colorado Springs. Arrows surely flew there long before the cadets—or even the white man—arrived. Although there was no admission charge, only a dozen spectators were on hand to watch the 24 men and 24 women who were competing. The archers included 13-year-old Becky Liggett, an eighth-grader from Muncie, Ind. with dark brown hair and a serious expression. The 5'1" Becky, one of the youngest competitors in the festival, stands just a little higher than her quiver, but she holds a number of junior records.
O.K. Smathers, 64, was the festival's oldest competitor. A world champion in 1957, he wore a pleased expression and a white hat with target circles painted on it. He was not nearly as awestruck as Becky, perhaps because he has been an archer for half a century. A grandfather who is an electrician back home in Brevard, N.C., he intends to try out for the U.S. Olympic team in 1980. In Colorado, however, Becky and O.K. both finished far behind the winners, '76 Olympic gold medalists Luann Ryon and Darrell Pace.
"This year the boys and girls didn't know what to expect here," O.K. said. "They'll go back and say what a wonderful situation it is. Next year there will probably be a lot more people trying out for it. The scores will be a lot higher and an old man like me may not be able to make it. But I'll keep trying as long as I'm able to shoot."