Date: December 11, 1982.

Time: Late afternoon in West Virginia, early afternoon at ringside.

Place: Living room.

Significance: The greatest fight I’ve ever seen.

In all my years as a fan I have yet to see a greater fight than the fourth meeting between Bobby Chacon and Rafael “Bazooka” Limon. Not only was it a fantastic fight inside the ropes – THE RING deemed it Fight of the Year – it had numerous juicy story lines. First, there was rivalry. They had fought three times before and after 27 rounds the scoreboard read 1-1-1. Second, Chacon’s boxer-puncher skills and Limon’s body-blasting toughness meshed wonderfully. Third, this was the culmination of a heart-wrenching melodrama for Chacon.

After squandering his first title at age 23, Chacon spent the next seven years chasing his second. He had failed in two previous chances against Alexis Arguello and Cornelius Boza-Edwards and the Limon fight appeared to be his last, best shot. But the night before Chacon fought Salvador Ugalde in March 1982, 10 months after losing to Boza-Edwards, his wife Valerie – who had long begged Chacon to retire – fatally shot herself. A grief-stricken Chacon somehow went through with the fight, scoring a third round TKO.

Though I had just marked my 18th birthday I had long developed an appreciation for nostalgia. I thought it would be great that a fighter who reigned during my earliest days as a fan would wear a crown once again. Also, I wanted to see Chacon finally fulfill his quest in his wife’s memory, so I cheered my heart out for “The Schoolboy.”

The next 60 minutes were filled with emotional peaks and valleys. Chacon was dropped in rounds three and 10 and more than a few times the challenger found himself propped on a corner pad taking dozens of wide, hurtful shots from Limon. Chacon, never clinching, used his arms to block as many bombs as possible while also swaying his upper body. Just when it appeared Chacon would be overwhelmed, he lashed out with several lead rights that forced Limon to retreat. That scenario happened again and again, which only served to increase the drama.

The already pulsating war somehow reached higher levels during the “championship rounds.” At one point in the 13th they came perilously close to scoring a double knockdown. With the result still hanging in the balance entering the 15th, Chacon delivered the final notes on his soaring symphony by dropping Limon with a pair of rights with less than 15 seconds left. Upon rising, the badly beaten Limon wore a puzzling half-smile. Thankfully, he never had to take another punch. It turned out that Chacon needed that knockdown, for the extra point enabled him to capture a razor-thin unanimous decision.

The incredible struggle I had witnessed left me emotionally spent but also thrilled beyond words. For Chacon, the odyssey that caused his wife to take her own life was not in vain and I couldn’t have been more happy for him. Though I rooted against Limon in real time, I grew to appreciate his supreme effort as I re-watched the fight in subsequent years.

I’ve seen many fantastic battles in my nearly four decades in boxing, but I’m convinced that no other fight will ever claim this spot in my heart.

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Lee Groves can be emailed at [email protected]. Groves is a boxing writer and historian based in Friendly, West Virginia. He is a full member of the BWAA, from which he has won five writing awards, and an elector for the International Boxing Hall of Fame. He is also a writer, researcher and punch-counter for CompuBox, Inc. and the author of “Tales From the Vault: A Celebration of 100 Boxing Closet Classics.” To order, please visit Amazon.com or e-mail the author to arrange for autographed copies.