Connect with us

Featured Articles

38 Knockdowns! Jeannette-McVey III in 1909 Was One For The Ages

Bernard Fernandez

Published

on

Jeannette vs McVey

A few weeks ago, my TSS colleague Ted Sares polled a number of boxing notables as to which fight they would most like to have seen in person. My snap judgment was to go with the epic first clash of Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier, which seemed an easy and logical choice at the time. Upon further reflection I still would stick with my original selection.

But with the 110th anniversary of a mostly forgotten classic, heavyweight Joe Jeannette’s last-man-standing slugfest with Sam McVey, fast approaching on April 17, I have some cause for reconsideration. In the entire history of boxing there might never have been anything like the third of the five matchups of future Hall of Famers Jeannette (pictured on the right) and McVey, a demonstration of heart, will and endurance that went an almost-incomprehensible 49 rounds, lasted 3½ hours and featured a widely accepted total of 38 knockdowns.

“It was amazing either man was still alive,” boxing historian Gerald Early said of a prolonged torture test that had no judges and no scorecards to be tallied (there was a referee, Emile Maitrot), a real fight to the finish not all that dissimilar to gladiatorial contests in the Colosseum in ancient Rome that literally were to the death.

Jeannette, the eventual victor, nearly was knocked out in the first round of the unique bout, which was billed as being for the “Colored Heavyweight Championship of the World” and staged before 2,500 spectators in the Cirque de Paris in France’s largest city. But Jeannette, spurred on by pride, ambition and a burning desire to come away with some sort of title, even if it wasn’t the one he most wanted, arose in a dazed condition from that first flooring and continued to plug away on instinct and muscle memory. Through 17 rounds he went down 21 times, and 27 in all before his dogged refusal to yield began to turn the tide. Exhausted and thoroughly battered himself, Jeannette was declared the winner when McVey, both of his eyes swollen shut, indicated to his corner that he’d had enough. It is one thing to fight on through incredible pain and fatigue, quite another to try to do so while literally blinded.

In another remarkable exhibition of two-way determination, the “Thrilla in Manila,” Ali said that his 14-round trial by combat with the wounded but relentless beast that was Frazier was “the closest thing to death” he’d ever experienced. And it very likely was just that. But, still, you have to wonder: what if “The Greatest” and “Smokin’” Joe were asked to dig even deeper within themselves for whatever it takes to keep on keeping on to the extent that Jeannette and McVey exhibited in an era when a black fighter’s courage and resiliency were not nearly as admired, appreciated and rewarded as they should have been?

“Most doors were closed to them,” another boxing historian, the late Bert Sugar, once said of the late 19th– and early-20th century America in which poor blacks such as Jeannette, from Union City, N.J., and McVey, from Oxnard, Calif., by way of his native Waeider, Texas, came up. “There weren’t even Negro baseball league teams then. The only door open to an athletic black youth was boxing.”

Even for the more skilled practitioners of the pugilistic arts with dark skin, the pay was lousy and working conditions sometimes perilous, but it could have been worse. In a profile of Jeannette that appeared on the Fox Sports Network’s Amazing Sports Stories, Early, who also is black, said that boxing back then held an undeniable appeal to male members of his race because “if someone paid you $25 for a fight, even some kind of pickup fight, that was incredible. That was more money than the average black farm worker or sharecropper was going to make. He’d be lucky if he made $25 in a year.”

As the unseen narrator of the FSN documentary noted, “liberated by law but chained by prejudice, black Americans lived under a violent and oppressive regime: lynchings in the South, race riots in the North.” Few white fighters would even consent to test themselves against their black counterparts in such an emotionally charged climate, and when those bouts did occur the black fighter often received death threats that might or might not have been legitimate. In any case, there were always suggestions, direct or veiled, that the black fighter, in order to get more such better-paying gigs, would be well-advised to either lose or not look too good in winning.

The high and seemingly impenetrable walls of prejudice in effect obliged such gifted black heavyweights as Jeannette, McVey, Sam Langford, Harry Wills and Peter Jackson to keep beating up on one another while the heavyweight championship of the world was locked away by white fighters they believed, with some justification, to be less capable then themselves. But then one of their own, Jack Johnson, broke through to become the first black heavyweight champion when he outpointed Canada’s Tommy Burns on Dec. 20, 1908, in Sydney, Australia. Fighters such as Jeannette, who had already fought Johnson six times in non-title bouts, going 1-5 (his lone victory by disqualification) but giving a good account of himself on each occasion, now saw a clearer path to a shot at his sport’s most prestigious prize.

But Johnson, whose flamboyant personality and dalliances with white women had the effect of antagonizing the white establishment like a matador waving a red cape at a bull, was not disposed to open the door to the throne room to others of his race.

“What really could have been the Jackie Robinson of boxing turned out to be a far worse chapter in America’s history,” offered still another boxing historian, Kevin Smith, who said Johnson was more disposed to make societal waves than to calm the waters. “America’s racism was like the scab and Jack Johnson kept picking it. Every time it healed a little bit he’d pick it a little more. You know, just saying, `Hey, white America, I’m the best there is and you can’t beat me. Come and try.’ And when they sent their men at him he basically slapped them around and laughed at them while he was doing it.”

Sugar’s take on the “Galveston Giant’s” intransigence may have owed to his enjoyment of the singularity of his accomplishment, something he did not want to possibly share with the men of color whose dreams were the same as his had been, and he knew to be dangerous enough to possibly knock him off.

“Jack Johnson did everything he could to flaunt – not just being the heavyweight champion, but being the black heavyweight champion,” Sugar said. “He not only cavorted with white women, he married ’em. He would race cars 100 miles an hour down the wrong-way streets. He thumbed his nose at white society as much as he could. It was probably the worst thing that had happened to white America and they had to get their crown back.

“After he became champion he didn’t want to defend his championship against another black man. He was so proud of being the first black champion that he wanted to be the only black champion.”

To an honest workman like Jeannette – who, ironically, also was married to a white woman – Johnson’s refusal to advocate equal opportunities for all was a bitter betrayal. “Jack forgot about his old friends after he became champion and drew the color line against his own people,” Jeannette groused.

But there were fewer restrictions of movement and more money to be made in Europe, where fighters such as Jeannette and McVey were viewed more with fascination than hostility by white boxing buffs. So when French promoters dangled a purse of 30,000 francs, the equivalent of about $6,000 in the U.S., the offer was too enticing for either to decline, even given the prospect of their having to fight an unspecified number of rounds. Adjusted for inflation, that $6,000 purse would be worth $162,000-plus today, chump change to the Canelo Alvarezes and Anthony Joshuas at the top of the food chain but a king’s ransom in 1909.

“The Europeans seemed to be rather taken with African-Americans generally, with African-American culture,” Early opined. “It seemed exotic, different, primitive. They were able to better make a living over there than over here.”

So two gallant warriors – Jeannette the skilled craftsman, McVey the pure power-puncher – gave every bit of themselves until there was absolutely nothing left to squeeze out of their depleted bodies. “Whatever you make of it, it was one of the great, great fights of all time,” said Sugar, who acknowledged that no boxing commission in today’s safety-conscious times would ever consent to allow two human beings to subject themselves to what was asked of and delivered by the men who participated in the greatest fight that no living person in 2019 can claim to have seen. Nor is the abuse they heaped upon one another 110 years ago available for viewing on tape; no footage of that fight is known to exist. But it did happen, and maybe that is enough for historical purposes. Just because there is no film, tape or television coverage of Julius Caesar conquering Celtic Gauls at the Battle of Alesia in 52 BC doesn’t mean it did not happen.

“I don’t know that Joe Jeannette is overlooked, (but) he’s almost obscure,” Sugar said. “He happened before there was film; there’s none found of him. But Joe Jeannette should be remembered, and he doesn’t need film to remember him.”

Maybe so, maybe not. The passage of time, if enough of it goes by, wipes clean not only eyewitness accounts, but what happened in the distant past always loses some relevancy as more recent developments tend to relegate the old stuff to footnote status. But that doesn’t make it right. So take a moment to salute McVey (63-12-7, 48 KOs, according to Boxrec.com), who was just 37 when he died on Dec. 23, 1921, and was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1999, and Jeannette (birth name: Jeremiah Jennette), who lived a full and prosperous life until his death, at the age of 78, on July 2, 1958. Considering what Jeannette, who was enshrined in the IBHOF in 1997, went through during his boxing career, with an official record of 82-10-10 (69), and another 62 no-contests, it’s a shame his body and brain weren’t left to science. For those who’d like to learn more about him, there’s a 448-page book authored by Joe Botti, Joe Jennette: Boxing’s Ironman, that offers so much more than can be culled from an 1,800-word boxing web site piece.

“It’s not just a book about boxing, it’s a book about a great man who lived a great life,” said Botti. “If you’re into boxing, there are some terrific stories in the book about some great fighters. But even if you’re not, it’s a story about life and love, and, unfortunately, the racism Jennette and his family dealt with.”

Bernard Fernandez is the retired boxing writer for the Philadelphia Daily News. He is a five-term former president of the Boxing Writers Association of America, an inductee into the Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Atlantic City Boxing Halls of Fame and the recipient of the Nat Fleischer Award for Excellence in Boxing Journalism and the Barney Nagler Award for Long and Meritorious Service to Boxing.

Check out more boxing news on video at The Boxing Channel

To comment on this story in The Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Featured Articles

Damon Feldman, the `16 Minute Man,’ Aims to Bring His Wild Story to Silver Screen

Bernard Fernandez

Published

on

What do Jose Canseco, Tonya Harding, Rodney King, Danny Bonaduce, Joey Buttafuoco, Lindsay Lohan’s father, Vai Sikahema, El Wingador, Octomom, a semi-notorious Philadelphia TV meteorologist and an aging Philly sports writer attempting to channel his onetime inner tough guy have in common?

At first glance, most people outside of Delaware County, Pennsylvania, would conclude there couldn’t possibly be a link attaching such disparate individuals. But that assumption would be incorrect.

Meet Damon Feldman, the undefeated former super middleweight turned Celebrity Boxing huckster and unifier of all those seemingly mismatched parts. Once labeled “King of the D-List” in a Philadelphia magazine article that was something less than complimentary, the now-44-year-old Feldman is aiming for an alphabetical upgrade to another title of sorts, possibly “King of the B-Flicks.” Earlier this month he hosted a gathering at a Drexel Hill, Pa., restaurant that drew two media members (I constituted half of the press corps) and about 50 prospective donors for the movie he intends to make about his occasionally tragic, sometimes infuriating, relentlessly optimistic and thoroughly improbable life.

If enough well-heeled backers can be brought on board, 16 Minute Man, the same title as Feldman’s 2017 book that never made it onto the New York Times bestseller list, will reach silver screens nationwide sometime in 2020. He hopes to raise $50,000 in developmental money, a tiny acorn which, if all goes as planned, will transform into the mighty $5 million to $10 million oak he said it would take to make the film – if it actually advances beyond the theoretical — as much as a commercial and critical success as 2010’s The Fighter, the tale of scrappy “Irish” Micky Ward and his drug-addicted brother-trainer, Dicky Eklund, which was nominated for seven Academy Awards and won two.

“Jackie (Borock) and Scott (Weiner) were doing a documentary on me,” Feldman noted. “After watching Mark Wahlberg’s movie about Micky Ward, who no doubt was an accomplished fighter, I thought, `I really do have a story to tell, too.’ I wrote my book in jail (more about that later), Jackie jumped on board and, well, here we are.”

But, meanwhile, the show must go on. Feldman – that “16 Minute Man” moniker refers to the 15 minutes of fame avant garde artist Andy Warhol once predicted everyone in the future would have – figured quasi-celebrities whose time limit as public figures had expired might need some fast cash or an ego boost that would accompany a bit of renewed exposure. Those sufficiently desperate for either or both reasons thus were susceptible to the sales pitch thrown by a natural self-promoter whose thwarted dream had been to become a world champion fighter. But harsh reality has a way of sometimes morphing lofty ambition into something less grandiose. Feldman’s 68th Celebrity Boxing card will take place on June 8 at the Showboat Hotel in Atlantic City, with the main event pitting Natalie Didonato, most recently seen on the reality TV show Mob Wives, against female pro rassler Scarlett Bordaux. In the on-deck circle for June 29 in Los Angeles: Mark Wahlberg’s best friend Henry “Nacho” Laun, featured on still another reality TV series, The Wahlbergers, vs. Megan Markle’s half-brother, Thomas Markle Jr.

Just who would pay to see such low-rent matchups? Well, probably more than might be imagined. Rubber-neckers inevitably gather to see barroom brawlers or schoolyard kids go at it, and the stakes are hiked if the punch-throwers have retained even a thin vestige of fame or familiarity.

For Feldman, his legitimate goals sidetracked, the realization of the different course his life was about to take came after he was obliged to retire as an active boxer.

“I took odd jobs. I was down the (Jersey) Shore one weekend and saw these two guys fighting, a bar fight, and I thought, `We should do this in the ring,’” Feldman recalled in the Philadelphia magazine article authored by Don Steinberg which appeared in the December 2009 issue. His start was relatively modest, the staging of a Tough Guy tournament which drew eight participants of varying skill levels and 500 or so spectators for the one-night event. After expenses were paid and a winner announced, Feldman came away with a profit and the notion that what worked once would work again, and bigger, if presented as outrageously as possible and with a loquacious front man – himself –serving as carnival barker.

In retrospect, Feldman probably was destined to spend a large chunk of his life in some form of boxing.  Son of noted Philadelphia trainer Marty Feldman, his interest in the fight game and his inevitable place in it spiked when he was one of the “Faces in the Crowd” featured in the Aug. 15, 1983, issue of Sports Illustrated. There on page 69 was a photo of the then-13-year-old Damon and a caption that read: Damon Feldman, Broomall, Pa. Damon, 13, scored a second-round knockout of Joe Antepuna to win the Philadelphia Junior Olympic boxing title in the 13-and-under 112-pound class. He has been boxing since age five and has an 8-1 record with two KOs.

There was never any question that Damon, who was and still is billed as the “Jewish Rocky,” would continue to hone his craft and assume his rightful place in the family business as a pro. Maybe, if he could just catch a break, he could go even further than his dad, who fashioned a 20-3 record with 17 KOs as a hard-hitting middleweight before transitioning as a trainer, most notably as the chief second of world-rated brothers Frank “The Animal” Fletcher and Anthony “Two Guns” Fletcher, as well as IBF light heavyweight titlist “Prince” Charles Williams. Also bearing the Feldman imprimatur was Damon’s older brother David, five years his senior, who would go 4-1 with four KOs before hanging up his gloves.

Damon’s history – his mom, Dawn Feldman, who had divorced Marty, was brutally attacked by an unidentified assailant shortly after their divorce in 1974 and suffered a broken neck that left her a quadriplegic – and ethnicity made him a popular and sympathetic figure as he stitched together a 9-0 record that included four KOs. Only four years old at the time his mother was assaulted, Damon and his brother never lived with her again. It speaks well of the now-deceased Dawn that, despite her physical limitations, she became something of an artist and poet despite spending most of her remaining years in rehab facilities. Nor was she the only victim of a horrific crime that was never solved; for the next six years, until they moved in with Marty, who had been struggling to earn a living, Damon and David were human pinballs, bouncing around to three different foster homes.

Was Damon good enough to someday rise above undercard status at the Blue Horizon? He says yes, definitely. “All I ever wanted to be was a world champion,” he said. “It was my hope and dream to drive down to North Philadelphia every single day and train in the same gym as Bernard Hopkins, Robert Hines and all those guys. I wanted that belt more than anything.”

Feldman’s promoter, J Russell Peltz, said he tried to pair the likeable local kid with beatable opponents, but it would take a leap of faith to imagine him seeing his world-championship dream through to fruition. Nor is Peltz the biggest fan of Feldman as the face of low-grade Celebrity Boxing. “Damon has always been more about promoting himself than his events,” Peltz is quoted as saying in the Philadelphia magazine story. “He’s more about the sizzle than the steak.”

Whatever Feldman could have been as a fighter became a moot point when he slipped outside a grocery store in Broomall and took a nasty fall. “The curb broke as I walked off it and I just fell,” he recalled. “I hit my neck and my head, messed my disk up.” He never fought again, at least in a sanctioned bout, and, despondent and angry about his adjusted circumstances, entered into what might be described as the infuriating and reprehensible phase of a topsy-turvy existence.

Although he tried his hand at promoting legitimate fight cards, five of which came off, Feldman proved to be less than an exemplary businessman as well as something of a loose cannon. He began drinking more heavily until it became a problem, although he is adamant in refusing to state he is or ever was an alcoholic. His promoter’s license was revoked by the Pennsylvania State Athletic Commission when, in 2005, an argument over tickets and money at a pre-fight meeting turned violent. The other promoter placed his hand upon an increasingly agitated Feldman, who scored a one-punch knockout with a left hook.

Even worse, in October 16, 2016, he struck a woman, with whom he had been involved romantically, several times with a closed fist and enough force that police, upon arriving at her home, found her bleeding from the nose, head and face.

Feldman served 13 months of a two-year jail sentence after pleading guilty to simple assault and recklessly endangering another person. He now says the incident that led to his incarceration was the “stupidest mistake of my life, but I learned from it and I came back. I’m not a quitter.”

So why is Feldman, who said this most recent redemptive chapter of his thick volume of ups and downs owes in large part to his parental devotion to his 12-year-old son and 16-year-old daughter, still as much or more of a celebrity as the D-Listers who populate his fight cards? It might be because, warts and all, he’s essentially an impassioned salesman of himself and his brand. He has been a guest on Howard Stern’s nationally broadcast radio program, at last count, 10 times and on Philadelphia drive-time sports station WIP, hosted by Stern’s Philly equivalent, Angelo Cataldi, perhaps 10 times that. Former Philadelphia Daily News gossip columnist Dan Gross regularly featured references to Feldman and any of his off-the-wall gimmicks because what else is a gossip column about?

Feldman’s first foray into Celebrity Boxing, in 1997, was limited in scope, the main event pitting Diego Ramos, a Philadelphia disc jockey, and John Bolaris, a weatherman for a Philly TV station. But Bolaris, a good-looking guy who got frequent mentions in Gross’ gossip column for his man-about-town squiring of a steady stream of beautiful and high-profile women, was the prototype of the type of participant Feldman knew could fill a 500- to 800-seat room. Bolaris would have been an even more surefire draw if his appearance had come 13 years later, when he was drugged by a couple of Russian bar girls working for an international crime syndicate in Miami’s South Beach. Seeking to confront the women, Bolaris met with them again, was slipped another roofie and awoke hours later with a pounding headache and $43,000 worth of charges on his American Express card. He contacted law enforcement officials, which led to 17 arrests, but instead of being hailed as a hero for the busting of so many nefarious types, as Bolaris had hoped, he was roundly derided for finding himself in such a humiliating situation and was fired by his station.

In other words, Bolaris at almost any stage of his television career was just the sort of “celebrity” that Feldman has sought out like a heat-seeking missile.

“I was a young guy, suffering and depressed,” Feldman said of his state of mind after his boxing career ended and his promoter’s license yanked. “Doing Celebrity Boxing shows became, like, my high. I just loved doing what I was doing. Anybody whose name was in the tabloids I tried to get in my ring. It’s like my nickname. I try to give all of them their 16th minute of fame.”

For appearance fees ranging from $1,500 to $5,000, Feldman has successfully enticed a string of down-on-their-luck notables to swing away at others of their ilk. Even when he failed to make sensationalistic bouts that were purposefully leaked to the media, he got the kind of publicity that promoters of “real” boxing would kill for. He attempted to pair Rodney King, the “Can’t we all just get along?” victim of a 1991 beatdown by Los Angeles cops, with one of the police officers involved in the incident, which drove the Rev. Al Sharpton to near-hysterics. The LA cop didn’t participate, but King mixed it up with an ex-cop from Chester, Pa., Simon Aouad, whom King defeated.

Another proposed fight that got lots of media attention but didn’t happen would have pitted Marvin Hagler Jr. against Ray Leonard Jr., the non-boxer sons of legendary fighting fathers. But it’s not just the near-misses with which Feldman has generated headlines; his most successful promotion to date was a matchup of Canseco, the steroid-fueled slugger of 462 major league home runs and the author of a tell-all book which outed Oakland teammate Mark McGwire as a fellow juicer, and a grown-up Bonaduce, the freckle-faced, red-haired kid everyone remembered from his time on TV sitcom The Partridge Family. Canseco seemingly got the better of Bonaduce, a friend of Feldman’s, over three rounds, but the fight ended in a controversial draw (even Celebrity Boxing outcomes apparently can be disputed), leading to accusations that the fix was in.

Canseco, maybe more than any Celebrity Boxing contestant, is associated with Feldman. The large and heavily muscled former baseball player, at 6-foot-4 and 240 pounds, unwisely consented to duke it out in 2008 with former Arizona Cardinals and Philadelphia Eagles punt returner Vai Sikahema, who celebrated his touchdowns by whacking away at padded goal posts as if he were still the kid from Tonga who had been groomed by his father to become a champion boxer until he decided he liked football better. Sikahema, a two-time Pro Bowler who was then a sports director for a Philly TV station, tore into the much larger Canseco like a famished lion going after a stricken wildebeest. “I think I can safely say that 105,000 Tongans are well aware that I am fighting Jose Canseco,” Sikahema said before the bout. “I do not intend to disappoint them.”

Perhaps remembering the thrashing he took from Sikahema, Canseco, who was scheduled to appear in the main event of a 2011 Feldman-promoted event in Atlantic City, chose to stay home and sent identical twin brother Ozzie to fight in his stead. The ruse was immediately apparent when Ozzie stripped off his shirt and his upper-torso tattoos were different from Jose’s. The fight was called off and Feldman sued Jose for breach of contract.

Feldman also was instrumental in Celebrity Boxing making it all the way to network television in 2002, with Fox airing two hour-long episodes featuring celebs who were a cut above D-Listers, at least in terms of how famous they once had been. In the first installment, Bonaduce floored Greg Williams, of The Brady Bunch, five times before Williams’ corner threw in the towel in the second round. Tonya Harding, the disgraced figure skater who also fought for Feldman, had her way with a clearly frightened Paula Jones, alleged consort of former President Bill Clinton, who at one point attempted to hide behind the referee. Jones surrendered in the third and final round, allowing Harding to skate away with a TKO victory.

But it was a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not matchup in the second installment that had to qualify as the most memorable Celebrity Boxing bout ever. In one corner was ultra-skinny former NBA center Manute Bol, all 7-foot-7 of him, against 400-pound-plus former NFL defensive lineman William “The Refrigerator” Perry. The Fridge basically ran out of gas moments after leaving his corner for round one, but he somehow stayed on his feet to the final bell, eating a smorgasbord of jabs from Bol, whose 102-inch reach might have been more incredible than his height.

Although TV Guide ranked Celebrity Boxing on Fox No. 6 on its “50 Worst TV Shows of All Time” later in 2002, Feldman takes pride in having had a hand in it. “I worked out a deal with (Fox) because it was my concept,” he said. “They only did the two shows, but they did pretty good numbers. After that I just continued to do my own thing.”

Full disclosure: I did a Celebrity Boxing turn for Feldman in July 2002, for no compensation, with any money I would have received going to the Don Guanella School (now closed) for intellectually disabled children. My opponent was Philadelphia attorney George Bochetto, a former commissioner for the Pennsylvania State Athletic Commission best known in boxing circles as the lawyer who represented former heavyweight contender Randall “Tex” Cobb in his libel lawsuit against Sports Illustrated, which resulted in a $10.7 million judgment for Cobb, later overturned on appeal. Bochetto – younger, leaner and a guy who regularly trained as a boxer three or four days a week – had everything going for him. But I was the son of a left-hooking former welterweight, and I wanted to see what, if anything, I had left. I did not inform my wife of my intentions until it was announced in my newspaper, which led her to ask, at a higher decibel level than I’d ever heard from her, “Are you nuts?”

George preferred to fight at a distance that suited him, and he was more accurate than I expected with the overhand right. But I bored in at every opportunity, trying to force him to the ropes and unloading left hooks and uppercuts with both hands. In effect, he was making Muhammad Ali moves and I was doing my best Joe Frazier impersonation. The split decision went to George, but the judge who had me ahead, the late, great Jack Obermayer, had been ringside for thousands of fights so I’m always going to think I really won.

Win or lose, though, my wife told me I was retired forever. Probably a wise decision on her part.

For those interested, more information on the movie project can be found at 16minutemanmovie.com.

Bernard Fernandez is the retired boxing writer for the Philadelphia Daily News. He is a five-term former president of the Boxing Writers Association of America, an inductee into the Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Atlantic City Boxing Halls of Fame and the recipient of the Nat Fleischer Award for Excellence in Boxing Journalism and the Barney Nagler Award for Long and Meritorious Service to Boxing.

Check out more boxing news on video at The Boxing Channel

To comment on this story in The Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Continue Reading

Featured Articles

GGG vs. Steve Rolls (Say Who?) is On; Lemieux vs. Ryder is Off

Arne K. Lang

Published

on

Yesterday (April 16) in a story submerged by a bigger story that broke later in the day — namely Jarrell Miller’s failed drug test — it was announced that Team Gennady Golovkin had selected Steve Rolls as GGG’s next opponent. GGG vs. Rolls is a go for June 8 at Madison Square Garden.

There was a collective groan when the pairing was announced. It was widely understood that GGG would go soft in advance of a likely third meeting with Canelo Alvarez in September, but choosing Rolls (pictured on the left against Demond Nicholson) was seen as tantamount to fighting an exhibition. The bookies will likely install GGG a 100/1 favorite, which in the old days was shorthand for a newspaper line, meaning a line crafted for conversation purposes only. Even today, with off-shore sports books jockeying for market share, no sensible bookie would take a straight wager on this fight save perhaps a peanut from a steady client as a courtesy to keep him in the fold.

Both Golovkin and Rolls had birthdays this month. GGG turned 37; Rolls 35.

Rolls, a Canadian, was reportedly 83-14 as an amateur. He’s undefeated as a pro (19-0, 10 KOs), but a casual fan wouldn’t recognize the name of any of his opponents with the possible exception of the aforementioned Nicholson. Rolls won an 8-round split decision over Nicholson (currently 23-3-1) in Verona, NY, in June of 2017. The verdict was controversial. The “ShoBox” broadcasting trio of Barry Tompkins, Steve Farhood, and Raul Marquez all had it 77-74 for the other guy, giving Nicholson the last six rounds.

Rolls is promoted by Lou DiBella who was in Full Damage Control mode when he addressed members of the press. “Steve Rolls is not some bum,” DiBella was quoted as saying. “Steve Rolls can fight. He doesn’t deserve this disrespect he’s getting on social media.”

That elicited this snarky retort (which I paraphrase) from a writer on an internet forum: “If Lou DiBella was in the business of selling bologna sandwiches, he would tell you it was ribeye.”

Golovkin vs. Rolls will reportedly be contested at the catchweight of 164 pounds. We would guess that when GGG-Canelo III finally transpires, it too will be contested at 164. Canelo weighed 167 ¼ for his last match against Rocky Fielding. Plus, the third meeting will be a mega-fight regardless of whether any title is at stake.

GGG vs. Rolls can be seen as the downside of the great flurry of professional boxing that has accompanied the live-streaming transmutation. Whenever an industry experiences rapid growth – when there is a sudden need for more manpower – there’s usually a lag before there are enough qualified applicants to fill all the slots.

That may be overstating it. The main reason that fight fans don’t get the fights they want to see is because of a lack of cooperation between the major promotional groups. Moreover, as for marquee fighters choosing soft opponents, that’s been going on forever. Joe Louis defended his title eight times in the 15 months leading up to his first encounter with Billy Conn. In the aggregate, his opponents were so hopelessly outclassed that sportswriters adopted the term “Bum of the Month.”

Lemieux-Ryder Goes Poof

It hasn’t been a good week for Eddie Hearn. Hearn promotes John Ryder who was slated to fight David Lemieux on May 4. The match between Lemieux (40-4, 34 KOs) and Ryder (27-4, 15 KOs) was penciled in as the chief undercard bout on the Canelo-Jacobs PPV card at the T-Mobile Arena. But Lemieux injured his hand in sparring and has been forced to pull out.

There was little sympathy for David Lemieux when he withdrew from his Dec. 15 bout with Taureano Johnson at the 11th hour because of severe dehydration. He should have managed his weight better. However, this is a bad break for him and it’s hard not to sympathize. A fan-friendly fighter, Lemieux would have been making his first start as a super middleweight and, barring a mishap, would have energized an already strong 168-pound division.

Golden Boy Promotions, which is orchestrating the May 4 event, has had some strong undercards over the years but not on their biggest shows. The undercard for Canelo-GGG II was very weak.

As it now stands, the new co-feature on May 4 pits Vergil Ortiz against Mauricio Herrera. That simply won’t cut it, a situation that isn’t lost on the Golden Boy matchmakers who are reportedly working overtime to find a new co-feature.  Let’s hope they find a good one.

Check out more boxing news on video at The Boxing Channel

To comment on this story in The Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Continue Reading

Featured Articles

Michael Hunter Emerges as Anthony Joshua’s Most Likely Opponent

Arne K. Lang

Published

on

Joshua vs Hunter?

As you may have already heard, Anthony Joshua’s June 1 match with Jarrell “Big Baby” Miller at Madison Square Garden is in limbo. Late yesterday (Tuesday, April 16), it was learned that Miller had failed a random drug test administered by representatives of VADA. Big Baby tested positive for GW1516, also known as cardarine and endurobol.

Useful as a weight loss aid, GW1516, among other things, is an endurance enhancer. Users don’t get winded as quickly. It works, notes a report by Australia’s Sports Anti-Doping Agency, by forcing skeletal muscle to use fat rather than carbohydrates as an energy source. In the example sometimes given of a professional cyclist, he or she can become thinner, putting less stress on their conveyance, while maintaining or increasing the leg power required to climb mountains quickly.

Several countries banned GWI516 when it was discovered that it increased the incidence of cancer in laboratory rats. Nonetheless, it is widely available on the Internet.

Anthony Joshua’s promoter Eddie Hearn has reportedly stated that the June 1 date is locked in stone, no matter Joshua’s opponent. The thousands of people that would be inconvenienced by a cancellation include members of the Boxing Writers Association of America. The BWAA’s annual awards dinner is always held on the eve of a big fight. This year it’s set for May 31.

Hearn has been in this predicament before. Back in October of 2017, the fight between Joshua and Kubrat Pulev at Cardiff, Wales, evaporated when Pulev was forced to pull out with a torn biceps. By then, 70,000 tickets had been sold. But Hearn had the foresight to have a pinch-hitter in the dugout, so to speak, and the show went off without a hitch with Carlos Takam subbing for Pulev.

With Joshua vs. Miller a shade more than six weeks away, Hearn hadn’t yet formulated a back-up plan. This morning, the Internet was rife with speculation about Joshua’s next opponent, all based on the assumption that Joshua vs. Miller was dead in the water.

One web site reported that there were five potential opponents on Hearn’s short list: Luis Ortiz, Adam Kownacki, Manuel Charr, Kubrat Pulev, and Michael Hunter.

We doubt the veracity of this report. Ortiz and Kownacki are controlled by Al Hayman who hasn’t done business with Eddie Hearn. It’s widely assumed that Kownacki, who trains with Jarrell Miller in Brooklyn, is being groomed for a match with Deontay Wilder. June 1 is presumably too soon for Kubrat Pulev who emerged from his last fight with a bad cut that wouldn’t be fully healed by June 1. Manuel Charr, a 34-year-old German of Syrian and Lebanese descent, holds a second-tier WBA title but is presumably out of the running because of previous PED issues. In September of last year, Charr tested positive for two banned anabolic steroids, scuttling a match with Ossie Oquendo.

That leaves Michael Hunter who recently signed with Hearn’s company, Matchroom Boxing, making him, in our estimation, the overwhelming favorite to step in for Big Baby.

Now 30 years old, Hunter’s lone defeat in 17 pro starts came at the hands of Oleksandr Usyk and Hunter had several good moments in that fight before fading down the stretch. Since then he’s competed as a heavyweight, winning four straight, the last three by stoppage. In his last outing, he was impressive in scoring a ninth round TKO of Alexander Ustinov on an Eddie Hearn promoted show in Monte Carlo. He took that bout on three weeks notice. In his match before that, he upset the previously undefeated Scotch-Congolese prospect Martin Bakole Ilunga in London.

If he were selected to fight Anthony Joshua, Hunter would be at a severe weight disadvantage. However, that would be nothing new. He was outweighed by 43 pounds by Ilunga and by 66 pounds by Ustinov.

Hunter lacks name recognition, but has several “hooks” advantageous to the PR people. A former Olympian, he comes from a fighting family. His late father Mike “The Bounty” Hunter was a heavyweight contender, a noted spoiler with several good wins to his credit. Pop defeated Oliver McCall, among others, and McCall famously went to London and knocked out Lennox Lewis. Michael Hunter, who fights out of Las Vegas, is co-trained by Hasim Rahman who also scored a massive upset over Lennox Lewis.

Conspicuously absent from the dubious short list is Dillian Whyte. If the fans got to vote on Anthony Joshua’s next opponent, Whyte would likely come in third behind Wilder and Tyson Fury. Unlike those two, Whyte doesn’t have a fight scheduled in the near future.

Big Baby Miller is reportedly keeping to his training regimen and there remains a chance, however slim, that Joshua vs. Miller can be salvaged. Tickets for the fight, priced from $106 to $2,506 (plus applicable booking fees), went on sale on Feb. 15 at Ticketmaster and at the Garden Box Office four days later. Advance sales were reportedly so brisk that a sellout is virtually guaranteed.

Joshua, who will be making his U.S. debut, is the big draw, but Miller has a strong following in New York and if he is forced to pull out there will undoubtedly be a clamor for refunds. That may trigger Madison Square Garden lobbyists to put the squeeze on state legislators in Albany to find a solution to let the match go forward.

If that should happen, the lobbyists will be swimming against the tide. The New York State Athletic Commission has come under fire repeatedly for lax practices, most recently in a four-part series by frequent TSS contributor Thomas Hauser for The Ring. It’s doubtful the agency would want to risk more heat. Moreover, this apparently isn’t the first time that Jarrell “Big Baby” Miller has been exposed as a user of banned substances. It’s been reported that he tested positive for two banned anabolic steroids while competing as a kickboxer.

Check out more boxing news on video at The Boxing Channel

To comment on this story in The Fight Forum CLICK HERE

Continue Reading

Trending