Some boxers enter the ring scowling dead-eyed at their opponents. But Stan Stanisclasse could never pull it off. His smile came too easily — it'd just creep unbidden across his face. So he began most bouts with a little dance instead, stomping and sliding his feet back and forth in a half-moonwalk, half-Muhammad Ali shuffle, with one glove held high above his head.
For Stan, boxing was joy.
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