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The Raskin Running Diary Returns! The Brooklyn Quadrupleheader (Part I)

Alexander got the W. Maybe next time it will be in a more enjoyable manner. (Tom Casino)
On Saturday night, “world championship” boxing returned to Brooklyn for the first time in 81 years. What better way to celebrate the occasion than with the running diary returning to TheSweetScience.com for the first time in 53 weeks? Much has changed since the last time I busted out this column device. Entering the previous running diary, Bernard Hopkins was light heavyweight champion of the world and had never once been bodyslammed by Chad Dawson. Showtime wasn’t yet airing quadrupleheaders with regularity or showing undercard bouts on Showtime Extreme, so running diaries were pretty much limited to pay-per-view cards. Bill Dettloff’s dog, Duva, the scene-stealing star of the Hopkins-Dawson I PPV Diary, was still alive. (Pour one out.) And boxing didn’t have a PED problem. At least as far as we knew.
This running diary will be different than past installments in that I was not part of a gathering of boxing writers, so there will be no sidebar breakdowns of our sidebar conversations. However, the Showtime Extreme portion of the broadcast began at 7 p.m. ET, which meant that I was joined for a few minutes by my daughter and son before they headed up to bed. I also had my dog, Rodney, and my brother-in-law’s dog, Gertie, to keep me company. But as far as observations for the running diary go, it’s just me and anyone who wrote something diary-worthy on Twitter.
Disclaimer: I’m one year older than Erik Morales, so no promises that I’m not completely shot as a running-diary writer. But here goes nuthin’ with the first installment of a two-part look back at Saturday night’s festivities from the Barclays Center in Brooklyn:
7:02 p.m. ET: What a joy to have Brian Kenny back in my life. I’m aware that he could theoretically be in my life regularly if I watched MLB Network, but since the 2012 baseball season never happened (I’m a Phillies fan; as far as I’m concerned this was just a really long exhibition season in preparation for 2013), the addition of Kenny to the Showtime crew as the host/director of traffic is an automatic highlight of the night. For his first order of business, BK notes that the main Showtime broadcast starts at 8 p.m., which makes me thankful I didn’t go out for the evening and trust my DVR, since my cable guide thought the show started at 9. It also means I have a shot, theoretically, at getting to bed before midnight, provided we see some knockouts.
7:03: Kenny sends it down to the Showtime Extreme team of Barry Tompkins and Steve Farhood, whose cheerful camaraderie and soothing, non-idiotic voices make watching boxing as relaxing as a bath in warm buttermilk. (Am I showing my running-diary rust with that analogy? Let’s move along.)
7:05: The lone live fight on Showtime Extreme will be the return of Danny Jacobs following his battle with cancer, and we start with a video vignette on him. Here’s a not-at-all-loaded question for everyone to discuss: Who’s gotten more press the last two weeks, Jacobs or Orlando Cruz?
7:06: When a guy is coming back from cancer, it’s wholly inappropriate to make trivial jokes in a running-diary column about his godmother borrowing her hairstyle from Carrot Top. So I won’t.
7:10: Farhood tells us that Jacobs’ opponent, Josh Luteran, goes by the nickname “The Existential Outlaw” and is also an actor in Hollywood. His IMDB page suggests he’s probably doing better as a boxer. Luteran’s nose is definitely more “boxer” than “actor”; that thing has more unwanted twists and turns than a season of The Killing.
7:15: A sizzling left-right combination from Jacobs renders Luteran non-existent(ial) at 1:13 of the first round. Suddenly, regardless of his sparsely populated IMDB page, it’s looking like Luteran’s future lies in acting. Meanwhile, nice win for Jacobs. Luteran wasn’t much, but Jacobs destroyed him following an 19-month layoff and showed, as best he could in 73 seconds, the talent that once made him one of boxing’s hottest prospects.
7:22: As I enjoy some Eddie Gomez-Saul Benitez highlights from earlier on the undercard, my wife, who is getting the kids ready for bed, reports that my son sat on the potty for five minutes, produced nothing, and promptly got off the toilet and peed on the rug in his room. I’d love to help clean up, but I have boxing to watch.
7:28: We get our first USADA mention of the night from BK, as he welcomes Al Bernstein and Austin Trout to the broadcast desk to help him stall for time and discuss the upcoming main event. Not included among the topics of discussion: how apparently it’s okay for a boxer to fight on Showtime after failing a PED test, but it’s not okay for a boxer to provide color commentary on Showtime after failing a PED test. Remember Antonio Tarver? Tonight, he’ll be watching from home while Erik Morales is permitted to try to punch a man after two positive drug tests leading up to the fight. Hmmm.
7:32: With no more undercard bouts to broadcast, Showtime Extreme signs off early. Now I have no excuse not to help put the kids to bed.
7:50: My daughter convinces me to put on the adult-size red flannel footie pajamas that my wife got me as a semi-joke gift several years ago, so this will be my attire for the remainder of the running diary. There’s something I wouldn’t be able to do on press row. Take that, all you suckers who are ringside in Brooklyn tonight.
7:59: As I settle back onto the couch for the main event, Showtime airs an ad for Jim Rome’s new show. We can only hope the show will be half as clever as the “balls” joke in the commercial. (Get it? He said the show would have balls, and then all manner of baseballs, footballs, basketballs, and soccer balls fell from the ceiling! Ingenious!)
8:02: Speaking of Showtime programming, before the fights begin we’re treated to ads for Dexter and Homeland. My quick (pretty much spoiler-free) thoughts on each show: I’m not convinced yet that Dexter has recaptured its mojo following an overdue shakeup to the Dexter-Deb dynamic at the conclusion of last season. Season Seven is certainly better thus far than Season Six was, but I have my doubts about whether it can ever become a first-rate show again. Meanwhile, I’m thoroughly enjoying the second season of Homeland, even if “realistic” is a word that’s apparently been banned from the writers’ room. Did it deserve to beat out Breaking Bad and Mad Men for the Emmy? Of course not. But it’s definitely the cream of the Sunday night drama crop this fall.
8:06: Okay, back to boxing! Kenny is sharing the desk with Bernstein, Trout, and Tompkins—turns out Barry is working the whole card because play-by-play man Mauro Ranallo is out sick. Nothing against Mauro, but I love me some Barry Tompkins and he’s always had good chemistry with Bernstein, so this is a fine development.
8:10: Bernstein asks the million-dollar question (literally) about Danny Garcia’s decision to go through with the fight. I’ve sat in slack-jawed amazement all day at the tweets and articles buying into the notion that, as of Friday night, Garcia was planning to pull out of the fight because of Morales’ failed USADA tests. I don’t believe for one second that Garcia considered cancelling the fight. He’d gone through a two-month training camp and was going to collect $1-million to fight an aging opponent he’d already beaten handily seven months earlier, and you expect me to trust some “unnamed sources” who said he was this close to pulling out? Sorry, but that’s some flimsy logic. Maybe the New York commission considered putting the kibosh on this fight. But no way did Garcia consider it.
8:16: Randall Bailey is in the ring, wearing a blue mask that makes him look like one of the Spy vs. Spy guys with shark teeth. Also in the ring: Arthur Mercante Jr. Much as I love having big-time boxing in New York, there is always that one unfortunate little string attached.
8:20: I know Philly sports fans own the reputation as the most negative fans around, but the Brooklyn crowd didn’t make it halfway through the first round of Bailey vs. Devon Alexander before the boos began! Really? They’re not allowed to feel each other out and take a tactical approach for 90 seconds?
8:24: In the second round, Bailey lands a head-clash-right-hand combination that knocks Alexander off balance, and with Alexander generally standing in range for Bailey’s punches, we have some (false) hope for drama in this bout.
8:27: Alexander lands a nice right hand of his own in the third round, and Mercante promptly steps in to make certain there’s no discernable flow to the fight and no sustained action. Moments later, Trout makes a good observation that Alexander’s wide stance makes it hard for him to turn fluidly in the ring.
8:33: Bernstein calls Bailey “the Dave Kingman of boxing,” and the 27-year-old Trout admits he doesn’t know who Dave Kingman is, which gives everyone a good chuckle. Call me crazy, but there’s some decent chemistry developing here. It’s around this point that I remember: Isn’t Joe Cortez supposed to be a part of this broadcast team? We haven’t heard from him yet, and if it turns out he’s not there and Kenny, Tompkins, Bernstein, and Trout are all going to do a good job behind their respective microphones, then who the hell am I going to mock in this running diary? Speaking of Cortez, he’s the subject of one of the “over/under” questions for the latest episode of Ring Theory: How many indecipherable words will he utter on the broadcast? I set the line at 11, Dettloff took the under. Also, Bill has under 37 rounds for the four main fights combined, and under 8,500 in paid attendance.
8:39: Another useful observation by Trout, who notes that Alexander is now keeping his left hand tight to his chin in round six after eating a couple of big right hands in round five.
8:40: Alexander accidentally hits Mercante with a left hand. I have a new favorite fighter.
8:41: Mercante takes a point from both fighters for holding in the sixth. Allow me to quote myself via Twitter: “Mercante: ‘These fighters think they’re the show! I’ll show them who’s the show!’”
8:42: Hey, Joe Cortez is here after all! He weighs in on Mercante’s dual point deductions. I think I just hit the over on 11 slurred words.
8:49: After Mercante tells Alexander to stop spinning his opponent, Trout notes, “I didn’t think that was illegal, that’s good footwork in my opinion.” I’m liking this Trout character so far.
9:00: As the boos rain down in Brooklyn and an ugly fight shows no signs of getting less ugly, we get these three enjoyable tweets in the span of a few seconds. First, from @therealFOL: “I would rather watch Joe Cortez make a sandwich.” Second, from @HansLanda0351: “I can never tell if Alexander is feinting or epileptic.” And third, from my podcast partner @WilliamDettloff: “In about six hours Bailey’s going to land the right he’s been waiting to land all night and his poor wife will be KTFO.”
9:04: There are just two minutes left in the fight. Which means Bailey, hopelessly behind on points, has two minutes to make Mike Jones feel less awful about himself. (Yes, I stole my own Twitter joke. And you know what? I might do that a few more times before this running diary is through. Deal with it.)
9:06: The fight ends, and Trout says Alexander fought a “great” fight. Bernstein objects and says it was “effective,” not “great,” and Trout more or less concedes. The crowd, meanwhile, can’t stop booing. Three more fights like that one, and we’re watching the last boxing card ever at the Barclays Center.
9:07: Nice addition to the negativity surrounding the fight from good ol’ @HansLanda0351: “The next basement dweller who claims alphabet titles are a good thing should be forced to watch this fight on a loop until they die.”
9:09: Jimmy Lennon Jr. announces the unanimous decision in Alexander’s favor, by scores of 115-111, 116-110, and 117-109. I’m now pouring myself a bowl of cereal—another reason my living room beats press row.
9:16: Jim Gray is in the dressing room conducting prefight interviews, and he asks Garcia, “When you woke up this morning, was there a question in your mind as to whether or not there would be a fight?” Garcia responds, “I mean, it was up to the New York Athletic Commission, they said it was cool, so it’s cool with me.” Anyone still trust the sources who said Garcia was planning to give up his million-dollar payday and pull out?
9:28: Peter Quillin vs. Hassan N’Dam is underway, and we’re seeing better action in the opening round than we saw at any point during Alexander-Bailey. N’Dam lands a left, and Quillin comes right back with a superior right hand to the chin. Maybe we aren’t watching the last fight card at Barclays after all.
9:30: Between rounds one and two, Mike Tyson is shown on the big screen in Brooklyn, pulling off the rarely seen facial-tattoo/white-turtleneck combination, and he gets a massive standing ovation from the crowd. It’s hard to believe Mike Tyson has survived long enough to reach this point in his life, that he’s matured gracefully into “beloved icon” status, but here he is. What a wonderful moment.
9:38: With N’Dam generally having gotten the better of the entertaining first three rounds, local favorite Quillin fights back with a left uppercut that staggers the Cameroonian at the start of round four. Quillin follows up, and a leaping left hook drops N’Dam! He seems okay as he gets up, but Quillin has two minutes left in the round to finish him.
9:39: Another hook almost floors N’Dam, then a perfect one drops him with 40 seconds left in the round. Two slips, however, help N’Dam run out the clock. Tyson is shown standing, applauding, and smiling wide at ringside.
9:47: As much as I enjoyed Trout’s analysis throughout the Alexander-Bailey fight, he’s starting to make me feel sleepy now. Can Showtime find a boxer/broadcaster whose energy level lands somewhere between the excessive exuberance of Paulie Malignaggi and the check-his-pulse monotone of Trout? Oh, right. They did. His name was Antonio Tarver.
9:48: Just as N’Dam seems to be righting the ship, Quillin decks with him another hook with about a minute to go in round six. N’Dam stumbles down again following a combination, meaning he’s now been knocked down four times in total.
9:52: N’Dam, still plenty game, lands a serious counter left hook in the seventh and gets me thinking Quillin just might regret not finishing him off in either the fourth or sixth rounds.
10:00: We’re treating to some tremendous action in the ninth, as Quillin absorbs several hard shots along the ropes and fires back.
10:10: Entering the final round, N’Dam seems to have pulled just about even. I’m pretty sure there’s no precedent for a fighter winning a decision in the other guy’s hometown despite a 4-0 deficit in knockdowns.
10:13: Quillin guarantees that N’Dam won’t be winning that decision (actually, it was already guaranteed; more on that in a moment) by flooring him for the fifth and sixth times in the contest in the final 25 seconds of round 12. It’s a delightfully dramatic finish to a fight that has fully erased the stink of the bout that preceded it.
10:17: All three judges score it 115-107 for Quillin, which seems a bit wide, but oh well, he is a New Yorker and it’s not like it was impossible to find seven rounds to give to “Kid Chocolate.” Not worth kicking up a fuss over. But it would have been if N’Dam had dominated round 12 and still lost unanimously.
10:25: BK interviews Danny Jacobs, and Jacobs commits one of my sports-interview pet peeves, declaring himself to be at “150 percent.” Then again, he’s probably at about 15,000 percent of what he was in 2011. So I’m going to let a recent cancer survivor slide on this one.
10:28: TSS editor Mike Woods tweets “[Richard] Schaefer says he is looking at January date and then feb back here, something ‘historic’. Hmmm.” Hey, Woodsy, how can you be certain he was spelling it “historic” and not “hystoric”?
And with that harmless little swipe at my dear friends at Golden Boy Promotions, I’ll wrap up Part I of the running diary. Come back tomorrow for Part II, covering the Malignaggi-Cano and Garcia-Morales fights. And don’t forget your red flannel adult footies.
Eric Raskin can be contacted at RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com. You can follow him on Twitter @EricRaskin and listen to new episodes of his podcast, Ring Theory, at http://ringtheory.podbean.com.
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Floyd Mayweather has Another Phenom and his name is Curmel Moton

In any endeavor, the defining feature of a phenom is his youth. Philadelphia Phillies outfielder Bryce Harper was a phenom. He was on the radar screen of baseball’s most powerful player agents when he was 14 years old.
Curmel Moton, who turns 19 in June, is a phenom. Of all the young boxing stars out there, wrote James Slater in July of last year, “Curmel Moton is the one to get most excited about.”
Moton was born in Salt Lake City, Utah. His father Curtis Moton, a barber by trade, was a big boxing fan and specifically a big fan of Floyd Mayweather Jr. When Curmel was six, Curtis packed up his wife (Curmel’s stepmom) and his son and moved to Las Vegas. Curtis wanted his son to get involved in boxing and there was no better place to develop one’s latent talents than in Las Vegas where many of the sport’s top practitioners came to train.
Many father-son relationships have been ruined, or at least frayed, by a father’s unrealistic expectations for his son, but when it came to boxing, the boy was a natural and he felt right at home in the gym.
The gym the Motons patronized was the Mayweather Boxing Club. Curtis took his son there in hopes of catching the eye of the proprietor. “Floyd would occasionally drop by the gym and I was there so often that he came to recognize me,” says Curmel. What he fails to add is that the trainers there had Floyd’s ear. “This kid is special,” they told him.
It costs a great deal of money for a kid to travel around the country competing in a slew of amateur boxing tournaments. Only a few have the luxury of a sponsor. For the vast majority, fund raisers such as car washes keep the wheels greased.
Floyd Mayweather stepped in with the financial backing needed for the Motons to canvas the country in tournaments. As an amateur, Curmel was — take your pick — 156-7 or 144-6 or 61-3 (the latter figure from boxrec). Regardless, at virtually every tournament at which he appeared, Curmel Moton was the cock of the walk.
Before the pandemic, Floyd Mayweather Jr had a stable of boxers he promoted under the banner of “The Money Team.” In talking about his boxers, Floyd was understated with one glaring exception – Gervonta “Tank” Davis, now one of boxing’s top earners.
When Floyd took to praising Curmel Moton with the same effusive language, folks stood up and took notice.
Curmel made his pro debut on Sept. 30, 2023, at the T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas on the undercard of the super middleweight title fight between Canelo Alvarez and Jermell Charlo. After stopping his opponent in the opening round, he addressed a flock of reporters in the media room with Floyd standing at his side. “I felt ready,” he said, “I knew I had Floyd behind me. He believes in me. I had the utmost confidence going into the fight. And I went in there and did what I do.”
Floyd ventured the opinion that Curmel was already a better fighter than Leigh Wood, the reigning WBA world featherweight champion who would successfully defend his belt the following week.
Moton’s boxing style has been described as a blend of Floyd Mayweather and Tank Davis. “I grew up watching Floyd, so it’s natural I have some similarities to him,” says Curmel who sparred with Tank in late November of 2021 as Davis was preparing for his match with Isaac “Pitbull” Cruz. Curmell says he did okay. He was then 15 years old and still in school; he dropped out as soon as he reached the age of 16.
Curmel is now 7-0 with six KOs, four coming in the opening round. He pitched an 8-round shutout the only time he was taken the distance. It’s not yet official, but he returns to the ring on May 31 at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas where Caleb Plant and Jermall Charlo are co-featured in matches conceived as tune-ups for a fall showdown. The fight card will reportedly be free for Amazon Prime Video subscribers.
Curmel’s presumptive opponent is Renny Viamonte, a 28-year-old Las Vegas-based Cuban with a 4-1-1 (2) record. It will be Curmel’s first professional fight with Kofi Jantuah the chief voice in his corner. A two-time world title challenger who began his career in his native Ghana, the 50-year-old Jantuah has worked almost exclusively with amateurs, a recent exception being Mikaela Mayer.
It would seem that the phenom needs a tougher opponent than Viamonte at this stage of his career. However, the match is intriguing in one regard. Viamonte is lanky. Listed at 5-foot-11, he will have a seven-inch height advantage.
Keeping his weight down has already been problematic for Moton. He tipped the scales at 128 ½ for his most recent fight. His May 31 bout, he says, will be contested at 135 and down the road it’s reasonable to think he will blossom into a welterweight. And with each bump up in weight, his short stature will theoretically be more of a handicap.
For fun, we asked Moton to name the top fighter on his pound-for-pound list. “[Oleksandr] Usyk is number one right now,” he said without hesitation,” great footwork, but guys like Canelo, Crawford, Inoue, and Bivol are right there.”
It’s notable that there isn’t a young gun on that list. Usyk is 38, a year older than Crawford; Inoue is the pup at age 32.
Moton anticipates that his name will appear on pound-for-pound lists within the next two or three years. True, history is replete with examples of phenoms who flamed out early, but we wouldn’t bet against it.
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Arne’s Almanac: The First Boxing Writers Assoc. of America Dinner Was Quite the Shindig

The first annual dinner of the Boxing Writers Association of America was staged on April 25, 1926 in the grand ballroom of New York’s Hotel Astor, an edifice that rivaled the original Waldorf Astoria as the swankiest hotel in the city. Back then, the organization was known as the Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York.
The ballroom was configured to hold 1200 for the banquet which was reportedly oversubscribed. Among those listed as agreeing to attend were the governors of six states (New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and Maryland) and the mayors of 10 of America’s largest cities.
In 1926, radio was in its infancy and the digital age was decades away (and inconceivable). So, every journalist who regularly covered boxing was a newspaper and/or magazine writer, editor, or cartoonist. And at this juncture in American history, there were plenty of outlets for someone who wanted to pursue a career as a sportswriter and had the requisite skills to get hired.
The following papers were represented at the inaugural boxing writers’ dinner:
New York Times
New York News
New York World
New York Sun
New York Journal
New York Post
New York Mirror
New York Telegram
New York Graphic
New York Herald Tribune
Brooklyn Eagle
Brooklyn Times
Brooklyn Standard Union
Brooklyn Citizen
Bronx Home News
This isn’t a complete list because a few of these papers, notably the New York World and the New York Journal, had strong afternoon editions that functioned as independent papers. Plus, scribes from both big national wire services (Associated Press and UPI) attended the banquet and there were undoubtedly a smattering of scribes from papers in New Jersey and Connecticut.
Back then, the event’s organizer Nat Fleischer, sports editor of the New York Telegram and the driving force behind The Ring magazine, had little choice but to limit the journalistic component of the gathering to writers in the New York metropolitan area. There wasn’t a ballroom big enough to accommodate a good-sized response if he had extended the welcome to every boxing writer in North America.
The keynote speaker at the inaugural dinner was New York’s charismatic Jazz Age mayor James J. “Jimmy” Walker, architect of the transformative Walker Law of 1920 which ushered in a new era of boxing in the Empire State with a template that would guide reformers in many other jurisdictions.
Prizefighting was then associated with hooligans. In his speech, Mayor Walker promised to rid the sport of their ilk. “Boxing, as you know, is closest to my heart,” said hizzoner. “So I tell you the police force is behind you against those who would besmirch or injure boxing. Rowdyism doesn’t belong in this town or in your game.” (In 1945, Walker would be the recipient of the Edward J. Neil Memorial Award given for meritorious service to the sport. The oldest of the BWAA awards, the previous recipients were all active or former boxers. The award, no longer issued under that title, was named for an Associated Press sportswriter and war correspondent who died from shrapnel wounds covering the Spanish Civil War.)
Another speaker was well-traveled sportswriter Wilbur Wood, then affiliated with the Brooklyn Citizen. He told the assembly that the aim of the organization was two-fold: to help defend the game against its detractors and to promote harmony among the various factions.
Of course, the 1926 dinner wouldn’t have been as well-attended without the entertainment. According to press dispatches, Broadway stars and performers from some of the city’s top nightclubs would be there to regale the attendees. Among the names bandied about were vaudeville superstars Sophie Tucker and Jimmy Durante, the latter of whom would appear with his trio, Durante, (Lou) Clayton, and (Eddie) Jackson.
There was a contraction of New York newspapers during the Great Depression. Although empirical evidence is lacking, the inaugural boxing writers dinner was likely the largest of its kind. Fifteen years later, in 1941, the event drew “more than 200” according to a news report. There was no mention of entertainment.
In 1950, for the first time, the annual dinner was opened to the public. For $25, a civilian could get a meal and mingle with some of his favorite fighters. Sugar Ray Robinson was the Edward J. Neil Award winner that year, honored for his ring exploits and for donating his purse from the Charlie Fusari fight to the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund.
There was no formal announcement when the Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York was re-christened the Boxing Writers Association of America, but by the late 1940s reporters were referencing the annual event as simply the boxing writers dinner. By then, it had become traditional to hold the annual affair in January, a practice discontinued after 1971.
The winnowing of New York’s newspaper herd plus competing banquets in other parts of the country forced Nat Fleischer’s baby to adapt. And more adaptations will be necessary in the immediate future as the future of the BWAA, as it currently exists, is threatened by new technologies. If the forthcoming BWAA dinner (April 30 at the Edison Ballroom in mid-Manhattan) were restricted to wordsmiths from the traditional print media, the gathering would be too small to cover the nut and the congregants would be drawn disproportionately from the geriatric class.
Some of those adaptations have already started. Last year, Las Vegas resident Sean Zittel, a recent UNLV graduate, had the distinction of becoming the first videographer welcomed into the BWAA. With more and more people getting their news from sound bites, rather than the written word, the videographer serves an important function.
The reporters who conducted interviews with pen and paper have gone the way of the dodo bird and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. A taped interview for a “talkie” has more integrity than a story culled from a paper and pen interview because it is unfiltered. Many years ago, some reporters, after interviewing the great Joe Louis, put words in his mouth that made him seem like a dullard, words consistent with the Sambo stereotype. In other instances, the language of some athletes was reconstructed to the point where the reader would think the athlete had a second job as an English professor.
The content created by videographers is free from that bias. More of them will inevitably join the BWAA and similar organizations in the future.
Photo: Nat Fleischer is flanked by Sugar Ray Robinson and Tony Zale at the 1947 boxing writers dinner.
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Gabriela Fundora KOs Marilyn Badillo and Perez Upsets Conwell in Oceanside

It was just a numbers game for Gabriela Fundora and despite Mexico’s Marilyn Badillo’s elusive tactics it took the champion one punch to end the fight and retain her undisputed flyweight world title by knockout on Saturday.
Will it be her last flyweight defense?
Though Fundora (16-0, 8 KOs) fired dozens of misses, a single punch found Badillo (19-1-1, 3 KOs) and ended her undefeated career and first attempt at a world title at the Frontwave Arena in Oceanside, California.
Fundora, however, proves unbeatable at flyweight.
The champion entered the arena as the headliner for the Golden Boy Promotion show and stepped through the ropes with every physical advantage possible, including power.
Mexico’s Badillo was a midget compared to Fundora but proved to be as elusive as a butterfly in a menagerie for the first six rounds. As the six-inch taller Fundora connected on one punch for every dozen thrown, that single punch was a deadly reminder.
Badillo tried ducking low and slipping to the left while countering with slashing uppercuts, she found little success. She did find the body a solid target but the blows proved to be useless. And when Badillo clinched, that proved more erroneous as Fundora belted her rapidly during the tie-ups.
“She was kind of doing her ducking thing,” said Fundora describing Badillo’s defensive tactics. “I just put the pressure on. It was just like a train. We didn’t give her that break.”
The Mexican fighter tried valiantly with various maneuvers. None proved even slightly successful. Fundora remained poised and under control as she stalked the challenger.
In the seventh round Badillo seemed to take a stand and try to slug it out with Fundora. She quickly was lit up by rapid left crosses and down she went at 1:44 of the seventh round. The Mexican fighter’s corner wisely waved off the fight and referee Rudy Barragan stopped the fight and held the dazed Badillo upright.
Once again Fundora remained champion by knockout. The only question now is will she move up to super flyweight or bantamweight to challenge the bigger girls.
Perez Beats Conwell.
Mexico’s Jorge “Chino” Perez (33-4, 26 KOs) upset Charles Conwell (21-1, 15 KOs) to win by split decision after 12 rounds in their super welterweight showdown.
It was a match that paired two hard-hitting fighters whose ledgers brimmed with knockouts, but neither was able to score a knockdown against each other.
Neither fighter moved backward. It was full steam ahead with Conwell proving successful to the body and head with left hooks and Perez connecting with rights to the head and body. It was difficult to differentiate the winner.
Though Conwell seemed to be the superior defensive fighter and more accurate, two judges preferred Perez’s busier style. They gave the fight to Perez by 115-113 scores with the dissenter favoring Conwell by the same margin.
It was Conwell’s first pro loss. Maybe it will open doors for more opportunities.
Other Bouts
Tristan Kalkreuth (15-1) managed to pass a serious heat check by unanimous decision against former contender Felix Valera (24-8) after a 10-round back-and-forth heavyweight fight.
It was very close.
Kalkreuth is one of those fighters that possess all the physical tools including youth and size but never seems to be able to show it. Once again he edged past another foe but at least this time he faced an experienced fighter in Valera.
Valera had his moments especially in the middle of the 10-round fight but slowed down during the last three rounds.
One major asset for Kalkreuth was his chin. He got caught but still motored past the clever Valera. After 10 rounds two judges saw it 99-91 and one other judge 97-93 all for Kalkreuth.
Highly-rated prospect Ruslan Abdullaev (2-0) blasted past dangerous Jino Rodrigo (13- 5-2) in an eight round super lightweight fight. He nearly stopped the very tough Rodrigo in the last two rounds and won by unanimous decision.
Abdullaev is trained by Joel and Antonio Diaz in Indio.
Bakersfield prospect Joel Iriarte (7-0, 7 KOs) needed only 1:44 to knock out Puerto Rico’s Marcos Jimenez (25-12) in a welterweight bout.
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History has Shortchanged Freddie Dawson, One of the Best Boxers of his Era
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