Articles of 2009
Brute Pt. 3-The Day Of The Fight He Died
The forthcoming book “Brute” follows two Sacramento boxers: Mike Simms, a cruiserweight who trained with the Olympic team in 2000, who when I found him had lost five successive fights; and Stan Martyniouk, a young, Estonian-born featherweight, who when I found him had just fought and won his professional debut by decision, despite breaking his right hand in the first round.
Over the next few months I look forward to sharing the stories of these two fighters with the readers of the Sweet Science, and I look forward to hearing from any and all of you. –KS
Otis Griffin walked towards the dressing room carrying his bag. Simms waved him over and said, “This is—” but he had apparently forgotten my name. “What's your name, again?”
“Kaelan,” I said. Griffin nodded, but did not look interested in shaking hands.
“Who do you write for, again?” asked Simms.
“The Sweet Science,” I said.
“He's doing an article on the fight,” said Simms. Griffin did not seem particularly interested, and went in to change.
“Do you need to get ready to spar?” I asked.
“Probably,” said Simms. He did not get up. The advent of Griffin had, it appeared, interrupted Simms' train of thought, but it had not spoiled his desire to talk. That passion, unlike perhaps his energy for training in the gym, was inexhaustible. “Like I was saying,” he said, “I never abused myself throughout my whole career as far as drugs and alcohol or the party life. Only time I do drink, I maybe a beer or a glass of wine on Christmas. Like right now I think the last time I had a drink was two years ago at Christmas.”
I myself have been sober for almost three years, and I considered informing him of this, to cement the camaraderie we were developing, but I decided that I didn't need to establish a deeper trust. He was already very open.
“I keep myself focused training,” Simms was saying, “and I try to stay strong-minded. But like I said, I'm on a little downhill right now, with my career.”
Griffin came out of the dressing room and walked past us. He sat down on one of the weight benches in the corner and began wrapping his hands. Simms was looking out the front window of the gym into the parking lot. “The last fight I had,” said Simms, “was about a month and a half ago over in Russia. The guy I fought, I think for the first time, was really prepared for me.” Even as he recounted this he still sounded surprised. “I found out after the fight that this guy had been studying tapes of me, because everything I did in that ring he was a split second ahead of me, like he was waiting for everything I did. They told me after the fight that, yeah, he'd watched my New York fight, the last fight I'd had in Russia, and the fight I'd had in Germany. So he knew everything I was capable of doing. On the ropes he'd come in, throw a combo, and then back away. He said after the fight he knew I was trying to set him up, hoping that he would stay there. And he stayed one time, for a split second, and I caught him with a hook to the body and a hook to the head, and I maybe hurt him, and he backed off me.” Simms laughed here, remembering this minute victory encapsulated in the larger loss. “And he stayed away from me.”
“He wasn't letting you fight off the ropes?” I asked. Earlier, Simms had touted this as one of his tactics.
“No. He wouldn't let me fight anywhere where he felt that I might be comfortable.” Simms saw this almost as unfair, as if his opponent were obliged, at least for a round or two, to engage in his territory. “He came out boxing,” Simms continued, “and he was trying to out-box me. Then when we got on the inside, he knew I could bang, so he would stay to a certain side where he knew I'd have to turn southpaw to throw right hooks. He wouldn't go nowhere near my right side.
“I told my trainer, 'Any time we fight internationally, we get a good heads-up notice. I want tapes on the guys I'm going to fight so I know what I'm walking into.' I never believed in studying opponents because I had 164 amateur fights, been around the world, fought every type of style, height, and everything else, so I'm like fighting these guys in the pros, I don't care what they got. Ain't nothing he can do in that ring that's going to surprise me.” It had, apparently, taken Simms five consecutive losses to realize that he could be surprised.
“Only thing that's been my downfall,” Simms said suddenly, “is my conditioning and my mental state.” By my arithmetic that left him with only natural talent. “If you look at my record, up to the time my first manager, Sid Tenner—when he died, that's when everything went downhill for me. Financially, he was taking care of a lot of things for me. Whatever bills I had he had them coming to his house. He got me a sponsor, and for the months I didn't fight he'd give me some money to get through or whatever.” As he said this he tried to act as if it didn't bother him any longer, and perhaps enough time had passed that it didn't affect him daily.
“When did he die?” I asked.
” 2003, I think it was. Hey, Eric,” Simms called across the gym. Eric Regan, who was still leading a class of kickboxers, walked a few steps towards us, still watching over his flock. “What year was that when Sid passed? 2003?”
“Yeah,” said Regan. “'02 or '03. Man, that was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” said Simms. (Later that afternoon I researched Sid Tenner, and discovered that he'd died in the summer of 2004, but perhaps their imprecise recollections of the date suggested how long they really felt they'd been without him.)
“He wouldn't take nothing from me when I fought,” Simms said. “His whole thing was, why take something from nothing? Financially in his life he was cool. He knew that I was the one that needed finances to make sure everything was okay. He wanted me to focus completely on boxing. That's what you're supposed to do: eat, sleep, and box. Try to have no mental problems at all. He passed away. He was on dialysis. He had kidney failure. I was in Chicago for a fight and I found out the day of the weigh-ins that he was in the hospital. And then the day of the fight he died—that morning.”
“What happened in that fight?” I asked.
“Lost a close decision to Felix Cora, Jr. One judge had it for me, one judge had it for him, and one judge had it a draw. But the judge that had it for him gave him a couple more rounds. Plus, the fight was in Chicago, Cora's promoter's hometown, and all the judges were Chicago judges.” That majority decision loss was only the second of his career.
Simms didn't appear interested in dwelling on the Cora loss, and I didn't want to press him. “I look at my career,” said Simms, changing the subject, “and I'll tell you: I'm nineteen and nine now, and I done lost five in a row. And I can say honestly a few of the losses I fought for the wrong reasons. The reason I fought on 'em was for finance. It was kinda like, I know I wasn't quite ready to step into the ring for that kind of a fight, but that kind of money, I couldn't pass it up. It ain't like I got money in my bank account, or money at home, where I can say, 'That fight? $10,000? Nah. I'm not ready yet.' I'm broke, so I gotta take whatever I can get just to keep these bills off me. Since Sid passed away, I haven't had a fight I'm happy going into. Now, every time I get paid, all the money I make goes back to make up for the months that went by when I didn't fight. I get two or three months when I ain't fought, and I get like a $10,000 fight purse, the money's gone before I even get it. 'Cause I got to go back and make payments on this, payments on that, and try and keep myself on the good side of the law. I mean, with child support and everything, it's a killer.”
On the floor the kickboxers were finishing their workout. The two women were already sitting on the bench, unwrapping their hands. A few of the men were punching and kicking the heavy bags. Regan walked over to the ring where I sat with Simms.
“You could write a book on this guy,” Regan said. “I was gonna go get you another pad of paper.” Simms laughed at this.
“Win some, lose some,” Simms said as he stood up. “One thing about boxing, you can't please everybody. I gotta please myself first.” He added after a pause, “It's crazy. I'm gonna get some sparring in.”
Unlike in a champion's camp, or even a strong contender's, where a trainer can acquire at whim any species of sparring partner, the lowly ranked boxers, of which Simms is still included, must fill up their time in the ring fighting with whomsoever they can. In Simms case, the only other orthodox pugilist at Niavaroni's (the others were all as accustomed to using their knees and elbows as their fists) was Otis Griffin. Griffin is a light heavyweight, shorter and, obviously, lighter, but more muscular, faster, and as he proved later in the sparring rounds, more aggressive.
After the two men had climbed into the ring, Eric Regan, who was standing on the edge of the mat, leaning on the ropes, helped the fighters on with their gloves. They had on their sparring headgear, which, because of the thick padding on the temples and jaws, lends the head an almost humorous frame. It diminishes the intensity of a scowl, and Griffin, who was “mean mugging,” as Simms might have said, looked much more benign than he might have had he been stripped for real battle. Simms was also frowning, but his face is rounder, and therefore kinder, and the protective pads only exaggerated his apparent docility.
Articles of 2009
UFC 108 Rashad Evans vs. Thiago Silva
Former champion Rashad Evans meets Brazil’s venerable Thiago Silva in a non-title belt that can lead to a return match with the current champ, but first things first.
Evans (15-1-1) and Silva (14-1) meet in Ultimate Fighting Championship 108 in a light heavyweight bout on Saturday Jan. 2, at the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. A win by either fighter could result in a world title bid. The fight card is being shown on pay-per-view television.
Events can change quickly in the Octagon and anybody can beat anybody in the 205-pound weight division. Just ask Silva or Evans.
Silva and Evans are both experienced and can vouch firsthand about the capriciousness of fighting in MMA and especially as a light heavyweight. On one day this man can beat that man and on another day, that man can beat this man. It can make you absolutely daffy.
Evans, 30, is the former UFC light heavyweight world champion who only defended his title on one occasion and lost by vicious knockout to current champion Lyoto Machida of Brazil. It’s the only defeat on his record.
Silva, 27, is a well-rounded MMA fighter from Sao Paolo, Brazil who is versed in jujitsu, Muy Thai and boxing. He can end a fight quickly in a choke hold just as easily as with a kick or a punch. His only loss came to who else: Machida.
Evans and Silva know a win can push open the door to a rematch with current UFC light heavyweight champion Machida.
“A win against Rashad would put me in the track against Lyoto,” said Silva, in a telephone conference call. “That's what – what I want to do.”
When Silva fought Machida the two Brazilians were both undefeated and feared in the MMA world. The fight took place in Las Vegas and with one second remaining in the first round a perfectly timed punch knocked Silva unconscious.
“I was humbled big time, man,” says Silva who fought Machida in January 2009. “I learned a lot from that fight. I think I can correct the mistakes from that fight, not overlooking anything else right now, but just I want to get the chance to fight him again.”
For Evans it was a different circumstance. The upstate New Yorker held the UFC title and was defending it after stopping then champion Forrest Griffin by knockout. Still, many felt Machida was far too technically versed. Evans was stopped brutally in the second round.
“I've made it a point to not – to not get distracted on what I want to do, because you know Thiago (Silva) is a very hungry fighter,” said Evans who has not fought since losing the title to Machida last May. “My focus is just on Thiago so much. You know I don't want to overlook him, you know, not even a little bit.”
Dana White, president of UFC, says the winner of this fight could conceivably fight Machida in the near future. Evans and especially Silva are motivated by the open window.
“I learned a lot from that fight. I think I can correct the mistakes from that fight,” says Silva. “Not overlooking anything else right now, but I just want to get the chance to fight him again.”
What a prize. The winner gets to face the man who beat him: Machida.
Articles of 2009
No One Is Leaving This Stage Of Negotiations Looking GOLDEN
Early in his political career, the young Lyndon Baines Johnson served as a congressional aide to Rep. Richard Kleberg, the wealthy owner of the King Ranch who was elected to seven consecutive terms in the House of Representatives, at least in part because he often ran unopposed.
One year an upstart rival politician we'll call Joe Bob had the temerity to challenge Kleberg in the Democratic primary, resulting in the convocation of the Texas congressman's staff to plot an election strategy. Several ideas were kicked around before Kleberg himself came up with a brainstorm.
“Why don't we start a rumor that he [copulates with] sheep?” proposed the politician.
This was a bit over the top, even for Lyndon Johnson. The future president leapt to his feet and said, incredulously, “But you know Joe Bob don't [copulate with] sheep!”
“Yeah,” replied the congressman, “but watch what happens when the son of a bitch has to stand up and deny it!”
******
Events of the past week or two have seen the Floyd Mayweather camp adopt a similar tactic with regard to Manny Pacquiao. But if introducing what would appear to be a red-herring issue — the debate over drug-testing procedures — to the negotiating process was intended as a negotiating ploy, it would appear for the moment to have backfired. The idea might have been to force Pacquiao to go on the defensive, but Pac-Man instead responded with his stock in trade, the counterpunch — in this case the multi-million dollar defamation suit he filed against the Mayweathers, pere et fils,, with the U.S. District Court in Las Vegas on Wednesday.
In boxing even more than in life, you never say never, but you'd have to say that Pacquiao-Mayweather is a dead issue right now, at least in its March 13 incarnation. Bob Arum says Pacquiao is prepared to move along to another opponent, and Mayweather is supposedly looking at Matthew Hatton in England.
We'll believe that when we see it, for at least three reasons: (1) There would hardly seem to be enough money in that one to make it worth Floyd's time, (2) He's going to have to put so much into preparing a defense to this lawsuit that he mightn't have time to train and (3) He'd get a better workout if he stayed in Vegas and boxed one of Uncle Roger's girl opponents.
*****
Colleagues on this site have already done a good job of dissecting this process. Ron Borges is absolutely correct in noting that in the midst of all the posturing that's gone on, you'd be a fool to accept at face value anything coming out of any of the parties' mouths. And Frank Lotierzo is spot on in noting that if you had absolutely no desire to actually get in the ring with Manny Pacquiao but were still looking to save face, you'd do pretty much exactly what Mayweather has done. Which is to say, talk tough while you get others to run interference with a series of actions seemingly calculated to ensure that the fight doesn't come off.
But left almost unscathed in all of this heretofore has been the convoluted role played by Golden Boy — by CEO Richard Schaefer, by the company's namesake Oscar the Blogger, GBP's subsidiary enterprise, The Ring, and at least a few of the lap-dogs and lackeys whose favor GPB has cultivated elsewhere in the media.
In late March of 2008, Shane Mosley and Zab Judah appeared at a New York press conference to announce a fight between them in Las Vegas two months later. As it happened, the BALCO trial had gotten underway out in California that week. That day I sat with Judah and his attorney Richard Shinefield as they explained that they intended to ask that both boxers agree to blood testing in the runup to the fight. Citing Mosley's history with BALCO and its products The Cream and The Clear (which Shane claimed Victor Conte had slipped him when he wasn't looking), Shinefield and Zab, noting that Nevada drug tests were limited to urinalysis, proposed that the supplementary tests be administered by the World Anti-Doping Agency.
Want to know what Richard Schaefer's response to that was?
“Whatever tests [the NSAC] wants them to take, we will submit to, but we are not going to do other tests than the Nevada commission requires,” said Schaefer. “The fact is, Shane is not a cheater and he does not need to be treated like one.”
But the fact is that Mosley had a confirmed history as a cheater. Manny Pacquiao does not. Yet in the absence of a scintilla of evidence or probable cause, less than two years later Schaefer was howling that the very integrity of the sport would be at risk unless Pacquiao submitted to precisely the same sort of testing he had rejected for Mosley.
And you thought it was Arum who was famous for saying “Yeah, but yesterday I was lying. Today I'm telling the truth!”
Schaefer, by the way, defended his 180-degree turnabout by saying he is now better educated on the issue. He couldn't resist aiming a harpoon at the media by adding that many sportswriters “don't know the difference between blood and urine testing.”
Don't know how to break this to you, Richard, but sportswriters, who have had to deal with this stuff for the past twenty years, probably know more about drug-testing procedures than any other group you could name.
*****
Now, the reasonable assumption would be that by assuming the role of the point man in this unseemly mess, Schaefer was insulating his boss (De La Hoya) and his fighter (PBF) by keeping their fingerprints off it while he made a fool of himself publicly conducting this snide little campaign.
And yes, Money would have stayed out of the line of fire had not a two-month old, expletive-filled rant in which he described the Philippines as the world's foremost producer of performance-enhancing drugs not exploded on the internet at the most inopportune moment. That the lawsuit was filed less than 24 hours after “Floyd Meets the Rugged Man” overtook the Tiger Watch probably wasn't a coincidence.
And we're assuming that this Dan Petrocelli, the lawyer who filed Pacquiao's suit, knows what he's doing, because if there were an even one-zillionth chance that somebody could credibly link Manny to PEDs, then it was a pretty dumb thing to do. You could ask Roger Clemens about that. Clemens' transformation from Hall of Famer-in-waiting to nationwide laughingstock didn't come from the Mitchell Report. It came from his wrongheaded decision to file a lawsuit against Brian McNamee, which in turn threw everything open to the discovery process.
*****
De La Hoya, in the meantime, was playing both sides of the fence. He let Schaefer play Bad Cop as he distanced himself from the negotiating process, but simultaneously was sniping away at Pacquiao from his First Amendment-protected perch as a Ring.com blogger.
“If Pacquiao, the toughest guy on the planet, is afraid of needles and having a few tablespoons of blood drawn from his system, then something is wrong… I'm just saying that now people have to wonder: 'Why doesn't he want to do this?' Why is [blood testing] such a big deal?' wrote Oscar the Blogger. “A lot of eyebrows have been raised. And this is not good.”
Ask yourself this: Exactly what caused those eyebrows to be raised, other than the innuendo coming straight from Oscar's company?
Providing De La Hoya with a forum from which to dispense propaganda only begins to illustrate the hopelessly compromised position from which The Ring continues to operate. They might as well give Schaefer a column, too, while they're at it.
Nearly seven months have elapsed since we last visited the Ring/Golden Boy relationship, and at the risk of winding Nigel up, it might be useful here to note that in the midst of last June's discourse, The Ring's editor offered a laundry list of the magazine's covers since the De La Hoya takeover as a demonstration of Golden Boy's restraint.
After listing them, Nigel Collins wrote “that's 28 covers over the course of 21 issues, of which Top Rank had 12 fighters, as opposed to eight for Golden Boy and eight for other promotional entities. Obviously, The Ring has shown no bias to Golden Boy when it comes to magazine covers.”
It had never even been suggested that the conflict of interest extended to the magazine playing favorites in choosing its cover subjects, but since Nigel brought it up it is probably worth noting now that of those eight covers given over to “other promotional entities,” two were of David Haye, whose promoter was properly listed as “Hayemaker,” but who had also signed a promotional deal with Golden Boy in May of 2008. (Just last month GBP issued a release in De La Hoya's name in which it described itself as “Golden Boy Promotions, the United States promoter of World Boxing Association Heavyweight World Champion David Haye.”)
And even more to the point, in four other issues Nigel Collins offered in evidence the cover subject was Floyd Mayweather (Independent), although what has transpired with regard to the Pacquiao fight doesn't make Money look very independent at all, does it?
We don't regularly keep track of these things, but in making sure we didn't misquote Oscar's Blog we also came across a representation of the January 2010 issue on The Ring's website. The picture on the cover of the Bible of Boxing is of the Golden Boy himself, and the cover story “De La Hoya: The Retirement Interview.”
Wow! Now there's a hot topic for crusading journalists.
Articles of 2009
Paul Malignaggi Explains Why He Thinks Manny Has Used PEDs
In theory and in practice I am vehemently opposed to people tossing out unfounded allegations against someone. Supply evidence, then we can talk. But saying someone is using steroids, or EPO, or HGH, based on a theory, or your gut instinct….I have to consider, what if the allegation were thrown at me, and I was 100% innocent. I'd be mightily irked. And so too would you be.
Manny Pacquaio has been hammered from all sides with folks insinuating and coming right out with the contention that they think he's been cheating, that he's been using illegal performance enhancers to give him an edge in competition. Floyd Mayweather Sr, Paulie Malignaggi, Miguel Cotto and Kermit Cintron have either accused Manny, or insinuated that he's been using PEDs. One has to wonder, where's all this smoke coming from? Is it possible that there's fire lurking? That these folks aren't just lobbing unfounded barbs at Manny, that their allegations and hints aren't just sour grapes, or posturing, or a ploy to lure Manny into a fight?
By and large, there hasn't been much in the way of coverage from the standpoint of: what if Manny is using PEDs, or was using PEDs? I think that is rightly so; I'd be more comfortable if none of us trafficked in the innuendo and speculation, and worked within the realm of evidence, and facts. But it's out there, and a topic of conversation and speculation. Perhaps it's a symptom and sign of the times we live in…
TSS reached out to Malignaggi, just off a solid win in his Dec. 12 rematch with Juan Diaz. The Brooklyn-based pugilist has never been shy about speaking his peace (I picture him exiting his mom's womb and barking at the labor and delivery crew to get the room cleaned up, stat!), and he shared with TSS what he bases his allegations, which he's careful to label opinion, upon.
First off, Malignaggi is of the belief that if the Pacquiao-Mayweather negotiations are at a fatal impasse, Yuri Foreman, and not he, will get the coveted date with Pacquiao. Malignaggi has been mentioned as stand-in for Mayweather.
He started off by insisting that ” I have nothing against Pacquiao” but then went from mellow to madman in a 30 second span.
First off, the boxer wonders why Team Pacquiao isn't going after big-time newspapers, with deep pocketed owners, for libel, for insinuating that Pacquiao is drug cheat.
“If Pacquiao's so sue happy, why not sue the New York Daily News?” he asked. “Maybe they know the steroid allegations are true.”
By and large, Malignaggi thinks it is impossible, utterly impossible, for a boxer to put on 15 or more pounds between March 15, 2008, when he fought Juan Manuel Marquez and weighed 129 pounds at the weigh in, and Nov. 14, 2009 when he fought Miguel Cotto and was 144 pounds at the weigh in, and more on fight night.
“It's not natural looking,” Malignaggi said. But, I countered, what if Manny's supremely blessed, that unlike some other fighters who go up in weight, and look a bit bloated, and lack definition, he's just a special creature?
“He's not supremely blessed,” Maliganngi said. “I know body builders. They can't put on 17 or whatever pounds of muscle in a year. It's not doable, in my opinion. These are my speculations, my opinions based on certain factual evidence. Does his weight gain look normal to you? And his head looks like it has blown up in size, too.”
I offered to Malignaggi that perhaps we should be attacking the system, if we believe it to be lacking, rather than the individual.
“We can blame the system a little bit, but if you were Manny, wouldn't you want to leave no doubt? Or speculation?” said Maliganngi, who believes that by not agreeing to the terms set forth by Team Mayweather, and opposing a blood test within 30 days of the bout, Pacquaio appears guilty.
Pacquiao has agreed to take 3 blood tests: the first during the week of the kickoff news conference in early January, the second random test to be conducted no later than 30 days before the fight, and a final test after the bout. A video making the rounds from the HBO 24/7 series shows Pacquiao submitting to a blood test two or three weeks before he was due to fight Ricky Hatton, and that has cast doubt on Team Pacquiao's stance that Manny is disinclined to get a blood test too close to a bout, for fear he may be weakened. Originally, it was reported in error that that test was taken 14 days before the Hatton bout, but subsequent reports pegged the test as being taken 24 days before the scrap. Malignaggi feels Pacquiao has been caught lying, that the report from Team Pacquiao that he “has difficulty taking blood” is a cover story. “Why is he effing lying?” Malignaggi said, heatedly.
The New Yorker doesn't believe too many fighters in the lighter weight classes are using PEDs, but thinks usage isn't uncommon in the heavyweight division. “That's hard to do and make weight,” he said.
The question is asked of Malignaggi: why does the issue make him so steamed?
“I don't like cheaters,” he said. “This is not baseball. You're not just hitting home runs. You have to worry about peoples' lives. Miguel Cotto in my opinion has been beaten by two cheaters. Manny if he's cheating is taking away from guys who are doing things the right way. His team is reneging on their words.”
And what if you're wrong, Malignaggi? What if Manny is clean, and you are hurting his rep with these allegations?
“I bet everything I own that I'm not,” he said. “But we'll never find out. Hey, I would take the test in a heartbeat. I would want people to know I'm clean. He wants to leave doubts!?? His entire legacy is being questioned, he's willing to hurt his legacy and leave $40 million on the table?”
Maliganngi, after reminding TSS that he was correct in predicting he'd be gamed by judges in the first fight with Diaz, insisted that he isn't singling out Pacquiao for a personal vendetta. “”I've never had anything against him. But that's enough now. I call it like I see it.”
What about those who'd say he's just trying to anger Pacquiao, to lure him into a fight?
“No. I expected he'd take the random tests to get this fight. No way I thought he'd throw away everything. That blew me away. It was cool to have my name mentioned.”
Malignaggi thinks the boxing media has dropped the ball, and not exercised due diligence in examining the possibility that Manny has used PEDs.
“I understand most people like Manny, and not Floyd. Just cause that's the case doesn't mean Manny might not be cheating. It's nothing to do with him personally. But I call a spade a spade. Too many people avoid the possibilities because Manny's a likable person. He's got that front, his country loves him. That front works like crazy. Floyd plays the bad guy, but he's natural. Just don't downplay the fact that Manny might be cheating. You have to open your eyes and at least be willing to look at it. This is bigger than me. The fact that the fight is not being made, you have to question the integrity of Pacquiao.”
Malignaggi then offered an analogy to the Manny-refusing-to-be-subjected-to multiple-random-drug-tests prior-to-a-fight-with-Mayweather deal. “It reminds me of the drunk guy who's pulled over at 3 AM. He has a field sobriety test, the cop knows he's drunk, he looks and acts drunk. But he refuses a breathalyzer test. That don't mean the cop don't haul him to the police station.”
I reiterate…I don't think anyone should be casting aspersions based on circumstantial evidence. But with so many people ganging up on Manny, I think fight fans are owed some details on why people are accusing Pacman of using PEDs.
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
Avila Perspective Chap 301: The Wrath of Tszyu and More
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
Murtazaliev KOs Tszyu to Keep IBF World Title
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Omar Trinidad Defeats Argentina’s Hector Sosa and Other Results
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Notes and Nuggets from Thomas Hauser
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Foreman-Moorer: 30 Years Later
-
Featured Articles2 weeks ago
Floyd Schofield Wins a Banger and Gabriela Fundora Wins by KO
-
Featured Articles2 weeks ago
With Olympic Boxing on the Ropes, Three Elite U.S. Amateurs Shine in Colorado
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Coachella Prospects Manny Flores, Grant Flores and Jose Sanchez All Win at Fantasy Springs