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Controversial Wilder – Fury Draw a Case of Déjà Vu All Over Again

Bernard Fernandez

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The moment ring announcer Jimmy Lennon Jr. revealed the official scoring of Saturday night’s Deontay Wilder-Tyson Fury bout – a controversial split draw in Los Angeles that enabled Wilder, the WBC heavyweight champion who to many people’s way of thinking, including mine, appeared to have received an early Christmas present – I had the feeling I had seen it all before.

And I had, 25 years earlier, on Sept. 10, 1993, in San Antonio, Texas. With one or two minor changes, what took place in the Staples Center ring closely mirrored what transpired in the Alamodome when WBC welterweight titlist Pernell Whitaker was obliged to settle for a hotly disputed majority draw against Julio Cesar Chavez in a heist of a fight which Whitaker appeared to have won handily. In this virtual replay a quarter-century later, British challenger Tyson Fury won – uh, make that should have gotten credit for winning – nine of the 12 rounds in the much-anticipated Showtime Pay Per View matchup, the most notable exceptions to the norm being rounds nine and 12, in which Fury (27-0-1, 19 KOs) was floored by an increasingly desperate Wilder (40-0-1, 39 KOs) who had to be aware his only chance at victory hinged on scoring a late, bolt-from-the-blue knockout. My personal scorecard thus gave Fury a 115-111 edge, the same tally arrived at by unofficial Showtime judge Steve Farhood, a vocal a majority of the 17,698 on-site spectators and, most vociferously, Showtime analyst Paulie Malignaggi.

Although Malignaggi, a former IBF super lightweight and WBA welterweight champion, presumably disagreed with the 113-113 scorecard submitted by the swing judge, England’s Phil Edwards, his most withering criticism was directed at Mexican judge Alejandro Rochin, who somehow saw Wilder as a 115-111 winner. Canadian judge Robert Tapper was the realist of the group, with a 114-112 edge to Fury (originally announced as 114-110).

“I don’t care about any replays,” the exasperated Malignaggi replied when fellow analyst Al Bernstein suggested they check the tape for possible moments that might have negated Fury’s steady stockpiling of rounds and thus allowed Wilder to surprisingly retain his title. “They matter nothing. This decision is a joke. Alejandro Rochin should better never work a day in his life again in boxing.”

The guess here is that Rochin and Edwards will continue to be in the rotation for high-visibility WBC title-fight assignments, as was the case with Switzerland’s Franz Marti and England’s Mickey Vann, both of whom figured that crowd favorite Chavez had done enough to merit a 115-115 standoff in a bout in which the beloved Mexican national hero appeared to have been thoroughly schooled by Whitaker. In tandem they overrode the 115-113 card for Whitaker turned in by Texas-based judge Jack Woodruff, which still was too close to my way of thinking.

But for those who might not go along with my premise that Wilder-Fury was a near-exact replication of Whitaker-Chavez, which did not feature any knockdowns, I offer two other bouts that also reminded me of certain aspects of Wilder-Fury: Bernard Hopkins’ 12th-round stoppage of Felix Trinidad in their middleweight unification fight on Sept. 29, 2001, in Madison Square Garden, and future heavyweight champion Wladimir Klitschko overcoming three knockdowns to register a unanimous, 12-round decision over Samuel Peter on Sept. 24, 2005, in Atlantic City Boardwalk Hall for Peter’s minor NABF title.

Mash those three fights together and the combined result would be, in relation to Wilder-Fury as well as the immortal words of the late, great baseball philosopher Yogi Berra, déjà vu all over again.

Like Chavez, who complained that it was he, not Whitaker, who deserved better than a kiss-your-sister draw because “Sweet Pea” had done “more running that fighting,” Wilder – whose nearly closed window of opportunity momentarily flung wide-open when he drilled Fury in the 12th round with the kind of power shots that had enabled him to win inside the distance 39 previous times – said the two knockdowns he registered should count for more than anything Fury had done in a performance that, on balance, was more impressive than his unanimous-decision dethronement of Wladimir Klitschko three years earlier.

“I think with the two knockdowns, I definitely won the fight,” Wilder said in a post-fight interview with Showtime’s Jim Gray. “You know, we fought our hearts out tonight. We’re both warriors. We both went hand-to-hand, but with those two drops I feel I won the fight.”

That argument was previously trotted out, with no success, by Ivailo Gotzev, Samuel Peter’s manager, who said that his guy’s three knockdowns of Klitschko – two in the fifth round, one in the 10th – trumped the fact that Wlad, with his metronome jab, had dominated virtually every other second of a fight that ended with all three judges favoring him by the same 114-111 margin.

“If a man who scored three knockdowns is declared a loser, to me, that’s no loser,” Gotzev groused. For what it’s worth, there would be a rematch, on Sept. 11, 2010, with Klitschko scoring a 10th-round knockout victory over Peter to retain his IBF and WBO titles in Frankfurt, Germany.

Now let’s flash back to Hopkins-Trinidad, which was presaged by the mind games played by B-Hop – which included his twice disrespecting the Puerto Rican flag at press conferences – and had the effect of so enraging Trinidad that he threw caution to the wind from the opening bell and tried to get the crafty Philadelphian out of there with every loaded-up punch that missed the mark. Hopkins fought superbly and under control until he felt it was time to really let loose, battering his favored opponent to the point that Trinidad’s father-trainer felt he had no choice but to throw in the towel in the 12th round to save his son from further punishment.

Although Wilder had vowed he would pick his spots to go to the heavy artillery against Fury, whose gift is not necessarily in looking good himself but in making the other guy look bad, he seemed to forget whatever strategical refinements laid out for him in camp by trainers Mark Breland and Jay Deas. Swinging wide and wild from the outset, Wilder’s fight plan, whatever it might have been as crafted by Breland and Deas, quickly devolved into pure brawling tactics. It seems a pretty safe bet that Fury’s constant putdowns of him had made the excitable Wilder, well, just a little bit crazy.

“All the build-up for the fight, the hype and everything … I really wanted to get him out of there and give the fans what they wanted to see,” Wilder told Gray. “It was just the simple fact that I was rushing the punches. When I rush my punches like that, they never land. I’m never accurate when I’m trying to force the punches. But the rematch, I guarantee I’m gonna get him.”

And maybe Wilder would, as Klitschko did to Peter in their do-over, if it actually comes to that. But the rematch clause in the contracts signed by Wilder and Fury could only be invoked by Wilder in the case of the loss of his title to Fury, and with the draw that did not happen. Yeah, a rematch with Fury no doubt would do good business, but Wilder and his support crew have to realize – as do Fury and his people – that it would not be a blockbuster on the scale of a fight with WBA/WBO/IBF champ Anthony Joshua.

Although Wilder and Fury both paid obligatory lip service to the notion of an immediate rematch, their thoughts seemed to drift more to a clear-the-decks showdown with Joshua for all the titles, a likely attendance of 90,000 in London’s Wembley Stadium and a super-sized payday beyond anything that even Wilder-Fury II could generate. For his part, Joshua and his promoter, Eddie Hearn, would now seem to have the luxury of picking which of the non-losers, Wilder or Fury, they would most want to share the ring with in what surely would be the most lucrative fight of 2019.

“There’s a third heavyweight out there,” Fury said in referencing the specter of Joshua that hung over the proceedings like a bad moon rising. Then, making clucking sounds, he yelped, “Chicken! Chicken! Joshua, where are ya, AJ?”

Wilder had hoped to use a victory over lineal champion Fury, preferably one ending in another emphatic knockout, as a springboard into the superfight with Joshua he most craves. It now seems reasonable to presume that to safeguard the route to Joshua, Wilder’s team of advisers – that would be promoter Lou DiBella, Premier Boxing Champions honcho Al Haymon and co-trainers Breland and Deas – will think long and hard before consenting to a rematch with Fury, whose difficult-to-solve style did indeed prove to be troublesome to the lean and lanky Alabaman. Despite the public outcry for Whitaker-Chavez II, one fervently shared by Whitaker and his handlers, that fight never happened. Chavez was too valuable a property to be exposed to the kind of risk and potential embarrassment that might have resulted had he again tangled with Whitaker.

Curiously, some of the key figures in Whitaker-Chavez were represented, either live and in person or by extension, at Wilder-Fury. The late Jose Sulaiman was president of the WBC and present in San Antonio that night 25 years ago; at ringside in LA was Sulaiman’s son and successor, Mauricio Sulaiman. And in the house at both widely separated fights was Shelly Finkel, who managed Whitaker then and is an adviser to Wilder now.

There is an old saying: the more things change, the more they remain the same. It’s as true in boxing, and maybe even more so, than in any other area of human existence. The faces and names may be different, but the game remains constant.

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.

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Khalid Yafai and Roman Gonzalez Meet at the Crossroads in Texas

Matt McGrain

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While the big sell from this weekend’s Texas card is unquestionably the Mikey Garcia-Jessie Vargas fight, it is the chief support from the undercard that most intrigues. The veteran and former pound-for-pound king Roman “Chocolatito” Gonzalez, unquestionably sliding down from a very high peak, meets Kal Yafai, a belt-holder but one who treads the foothills. It is as clearly defined as a crossroads fight can be.

Yafai, a good-looking and clear-spoken British fighter of Yemeni extraction, came to prominence in a genuinely exceptional performance against another veteran in Luis Concepcion, a storied and seasoned fighter who he completely outclassed over twelve in late 2016. Since, he has taken the traditional path of an inexperienced fighter who has come by an alphabet trinket, meeting a series of fringe and borderline contenders in mandatory contests against opponents of moderate status. And to be fair to him, for the most part he has looked the part.

For the most part.

Fleet-footed and armed with a very fine jab, Yafai has added, at contendership level, a whistling lead right that complements a rather lovely left hook to the body. On Saturday he is to be presented with something a little different.

Roman Gonzalez has made a living out of forcing tactical errors and overwhelming ignoring tactical acumen both, punishing opposition planning, whether good or bad. There has been perhaps nobody in my lifetime in boxing so adept at turning a fighter’s own style against him. When fighters ran from him, he bulldozed them with momentum. When fighters stood with him, he out-hit them with some of the most succinct and brutal combination punching in the sport; he kept company, at his absolute apex, with Manny Pacquiao. When fighters box-punched or mixed styles it was he who suddenly seemed fluid rather than wrought.

Roman, for a spell, was the best fighter in the world, one of the finest sportsmen on his continent and a national hero to his Nicaraguan people. Then, and very nearly all at once, it all came clattering down.

I’m aware it’s irritating when boxing writers congratulate themselves on their own predictions, but this one is worth it I think: years before Roman was thought of by what we’ll call the mainstream boxing press, I predicted that he would be a future pound-for-pound number one, but I also predicted that his eventual downfall would be at the hands of an aggressive southpaw, perhaps up at 115lbs. A decade later, Roman’s fantastic multi-divisional reign was brought to a juddering halt by aggressive southpaw superfly Wisaksil Wangek (aka Srisaket Sor Rungvisai).

Another thing I predicted at that time: for Roman Gonzalez, there would be no meaningful second act.

All these years later that sense has deepened as Roman began to find himself rendered upon the wrong side of history. Nicaraguan politics has and will remain beyond the auspices of The Sweet Science – for all that I credit our readership with an attention span above and beyond the 2020 median, there is a limit. Suffice to say that his personal problems have rather dwarfed his professional ones.

He did come back though, a whole year after his loss to Wangek and looked competent if a little puffy at what is a heavy weight division for him, ten pounds north of the 105lbs he cut his teeth in.  The victim was Moises Fuentes and I wrote of that fight that while Roman was “perhaps not quite back, [he was] certainly warming up…and if the division isn’t trembling, it can at least be said to have thrown a quick look over its shoulder.”

If the division did look, and then looked again, it eventually just went about its business as Roman’s fight camp was once again enveloped in silence. A year passed and after a brief tune-up in a glorified exhibition it was announced that he would duel old foe and world champion Juan Francisco Estrada who gave Roman perhaps his toughest fight of his prime years. It was a thrilling proposition, so when Estrada withdrew with an injury, I was miserable. Then Kal Yafai stepped in.

Yafai, ranked the #4 superfly (behind a devastating line up of kingpin Estrada, Wangek, Kazuto Ioka and Jerwin Ancajas), has always been the fight I most wanted Roman, who is ranked #5, to take. It’s a winnable contest for both with a fascinating undertone of the generational clash despite the fact that Yafai, at thirty, is actually only two years younger than Roman. Their respective records of 26-0 and 48-2 tell the true story.

History says we favor the fresher man in this situation, but there are other factors at play here. As stated, Yafai, who himself names this the fight he most desires, has mostly looked the part against ostensibly weaker opposition, and he has. But in late 2018 he had a scare, against Israel Gonzalez out in Monte Carlo. Israel was underrated by the WBA who named him the #14 contender to Yafai’s title making him both a valid defense and a supposed soft touch, an interesting insight into both the failings of an alphabet ranking organization and the complacency such failings can bring. Yafai, perhaps, did not pay Israel the respect he deserved.

What most struck about Yafai’s performance in the first half of that fight, in an underwhelming venue before a small, underwhelmed audience, is how it drifted. He “did boxing”. He moved; he threw his hands; but he appeared to have no underpinning strategy with which to carve out his victory.

He looked more purposeful in the middle to late rounds but continued to absorb punches to the body at a surprising rate though at least in support of a concrete plan, using his jab to bring him inside. Watching this fight of two halves, I felt sure Roman would have his number if ever the two should meet.

Boxing without a concrete plan against Roman Gonzalez is like sitting on your front lawn in a deckchair during clement weather and waiting for lightning to strike: both stupid and pointless.  Even men who have arrived in his ring with detailed accountancy for what they want to do in every minute of the round, world class fighters like Akira Yaegashi and Francisco Rodriguez, have struggled. Men who approach the fight seeking to riff adaptions have been mercilessly butchered.

There is no question of Yafai approaching Roman Gonzalez as casually as he approached Israel Gonzalez but watching him follow Israel around the ring I was struck by his lack of a defining identity, something denied him, perhaps, by a defining fight. This clash is a defining fight but is it possible it comes too soon for Yafai?

This is arguable, though in honesty it is only arguable due to the stage of his career at which Roman finds himself. He’s older now and has suffered at the hands both of savage southpaws, and life. He wears both markers on his face. He is a hangdog version of the youthful warrior that crashed through four divisions in the past fifteen years; still dangerous, still strong, but notably smaller than his natural superfly opponent and notably slower than his 2010 self.  Yafai, meanwhile, is faster of jab (if not of combination) than Gonzalez ever was and has the feet to at least survive the juggernaut that was “Chocolatitito” best-for-best.

A Yafai victory would be best for boxing. That is undeniable. Even if Gonzalez winds it back, he can’t go on much longer.

And I don’t think he will wind it back; but I will predict he will win, not in a stretching of the years but in a straight-up mugging of a marginally superior opponent. Worn-down fighters have been worn by punches. Those punches teach hard lessons. I don’t think Roman has the power at the poundage to deliver a knockout, but I think he has the experience to steal enough rounds on the scorecards to poach a decision.

A late fade might exclude him, but a victory for the older, smaller, slower man is this slower, older writer’s prediction.

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Avila Perspective, Chap. 87: Vergil Ortiz and Company and More Fight Notes

David A. Avila

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LOS ANGELES-Not long ago Vergil Ortiz Jr. and female prizefighter Seniesa Estrada were busting heads in a downtown theater that barely fit 400 people if the fire inspector looked the other way.

Next month, Ortiz and Estrada will be co-headlining a Golden Boy Promotions boxing card at the Inglewood Forum that seats more than 18,000.

A lot has changed for the two highly-ranked contenders.

Ortiz (15-0, 15 KOs) defends the WBA Gold welterweight title against Samuel Vargas (31-5-2, 14 KOs) in the main event on March 28 at the spacious arena built in the 1960s. In the female co-main East L.A.’s Estrada (18-0, 7 KOs) fights Mexico’s Jackie Calvo (12-5-2) in defense of a regional title.

From prelims to world title chasers in a matter of two years, the ascent of the two highly-ranked contenders was mercurial.

It was less than two years ago the Dallas area product battered former world champion Juan Carlos Salgado at Belasco Theater. At the time few were certain that the slender built Ortiz was ready for the big tent. He was more than ready and blew out Salgado like Dollar Store candles.

Now it’s merely a matter of time before he gets a crack at one of the welterweight world champions. It’s a talent rich division with the likes of Terence Crawford, Danny Garcia, Shawn Porter and Errol Spence Jr.

“I don’t think I’m the most talented fighter in the room, but I do know that I work the hardest in the game right now,” said Ortiz, 21, who has never won by decision in his professional career. It’s been pure knockouts.

Vargas, a veteran of 38 pro bouts, has faced many of the top welterweights in the world today including Errol Spence Jr. Amir Khan, and Danny Garcia.

“I’ve fought a lot of talented boxers and have had great experiences throughout the years,” said Vargas who trains in Las Vegas with Clarence “Bones” Adams. “I’m confident and I’m ready.”

It’s a talent-rich boxing card featuring many prospects and contenders including super bantamweight Azat “Crazy A” Hovhannisyan (18-3, 15 KOs) who fights Colombia’s Jose Sanmartin (30-5-1, 20 KOs).

“I’m as ready for any champion. I’m in the best shape and have the best trainer,” said Hovhannisyan who is trained by Freddie Roach. “I can’t wait to show everyone a wonderful fight on March 28.”

Another prospect featured on the card, Aaron “The Silencer” McKenna (10-0, 6 KOs) of Ireland, meets Mexico’s Christopher Degollado (13-6, 10 KOs) in a super welterweight clash set for eight rounds.

McKenna has adapted to the pro style after a successful amateur career and also adapted to Southern California living.

“I’ve been here a few years now,” said McKenna who also trains with Freddie Roach. “I have an aggressive style that Mexican fans like.”

Others on the card are Pablo Cano, Rashidi Ellis, Christopher Pearson, Chris Ousley and Raul Curiel. It’s a pretty strong fight lineup.

“There’s a lot of great boxing history at the forum. A lot of famous world champions have fought at this venue, including Oscar De La Hoya, who made his debut back in 1992,” said Eric Gomez, the president of Golden Boy Promotions. “This is a great card and all these fights are going to be exciting, especially Vergil Ortiz Jr.”

It’s always fun to see prospects turn to contenders and then on to champions.

Showtime in Las Vegas

A hefty card in Las Vegas by Mayweather Promotions takes place on Friday Feb. 28, at Sam’s Town Hotel and Gambling Hall in Las Vegas. Showtime will televise several of the main bouts.

Super lightweight prospect Keith Hunter (11-0, 7 KOs) meets Uzbekistan’s Sanjarbek Rakhmanov (12-2, 6 KOs) in a rematch of a fight that ended in a split decision. Hunter won.

After the close win, Hunter then defeated always tough Cameron Krael by unanimous decision in a 10-round fight. Now he returns to face Rakhmanov again. It should be a firefight.

It’s a very good boxing card that includes super middleweight Kevin Newman II, Ladarius Miller, and Lanell Bellows.

Burbank

This Saturday, Feb. 29, a boxing card called “Valley Fight Night” features a dozen bouts by Bash Boxing at the Burbank Marriott Events Center in Burbank, California.

Heading the boxing card will be popular welterweight Vlad Panin (7-0) facing Moises Fuentes (4-1). Several other undefeated prospects fill the event calendar including welterweight Aram Amirkhanyan.

Doors open at 6:30 p.m. For tickets and information go to www.Bashboxing.com

Fights to Watch

Fri. Showtime 10:45 p.m. – Keith Hunter (11-0) vs Sanjarbek Rakhmanov (12-2).

Fri. Telemundo 11:35 p.m. – Yomar Alamo (17-0-1) vs Kendo Castaneda (17-0).

Sat. DAZN  5 p.m. – Mikey Garcia (39-1) vs Jessie Vargas (29-2-2); Roman Gonzalez (48-2) vs Khalid Yafai (26-0); Julio Cesar Martinez (15-1) vs Jay Harris (17-0).

Photo credit: Al Applerose

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Final Takeaways from Wilder-Fury and a Doleful Dissertation on Riddick Bowe

Arne K. Lang

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Final Takeaways from Wilder-Fury and a Doleful Dissertation on Riddick Bowe

I watched the Wilder-Fury fight from the cheap seats. Actually, I had no seat at all.

My press badge consigned me to the so-called auxiliary press section which was up in the rafters. One can’t work in that environment. There’s no table on which to plop one’s laptop; no power strip to keep it plugged in. And so, I watched the full undercard on the big TV in the press room and then went into the arena to catch the main go and the hoopla that preceded it.

The corridors leading into the arena were jammed with people hoping to score a ticket at the last minute. They were out of luck. The fight was a sellout. It was gridlock and for a moment I feared that the main event would start without me, but I managed to push my way through in time for the ring walks.

The arena was dark and it seemed that every seat in my assigned area was taken. And so, I walked up to the very top of the stairs and stood with my back against the wall, wedged in between two other standees including a friendly guy from New Zealand who, like me, had a press badge dangling from a chain around his neck.

From a reporter’s standpoint, there are certain benefits to being up in the rafters when the house is full. For one, you can get a better feel for the ambience. A boxing crowd skews younger and more boozed-up as one gets higher up in the stands and this translates into more exuberance. And that’s especially true when there are a lot of Brits in the house. They chant and sing in unison. Us poor Yanks just don’t know how to have so much fun.

I’m old school when it comes to ring walks. Spare me the razzmatazz. Mike Tyson didn’t need it. No fancy robe for him, nor tasseled trunks, not even socks. And yet when he walked down the aisle with a simple white towel draped over his bare shoulders, he exuded charisma.

And then, on Saturday, Tyson Fury was carried into the ring on a throne, dressed like a king with a big crown on his head as the PA system played Patsy Cline’s “Crazy,” and, I’m forced to admit, it was magical. Talk about a tough act to follow.

I’ve seen boxers walk into the ring with fear unmistakably etched on their countenance as if they were walking to the gallows. Frank Bruno and Bruce Seldon could not mask that “tell” when they fought Mike Tyson. More often, a boxer’s expression on his ring walk is inscrutable which I suspect is a way of compensating for his anxiety.

What struck me about Tyson Fury’s ring entrance was that it betrayed no such apprehension; to the contrary, he oozed confidence as if this were nothing more than a tune-up fight. I swear, he looked like a chap who was headed off to a Halloween ball and had stopped for a few pints on the way to get a head start on the jollity. I couldn’t pick a winner in this fight, tilted toward Wilder, but as I watched Tyson Fury’s ring walk, I sensed that I had missed a great opportunity by failing to get down a wager on the Gypsy King.

Many years ago, when I was first credentialed for a fight (Larry Holmes vs. Tim Witherspoon was the headliner), they planted me in the third row. Since returning to boxing after a decade in which I busied myself writing college football annuals and such, it seems as if my career is in reverse gear. The next time there’s a really big fight in town, I may be consigned to the corridor with all those folks effectively left out in the rain.

Oh, well, it’s been a fun ride.

—-

Prior to the ring walks, three great heavyweight champions of recent vintage – Lennox Lewis, Evander Holyfield, and Mike Tyson – were honored in the ring. Conspicuous by his absence was Riddick “Big Daddy” Bowe, a 1990s-era contemporary.

royalty

Granted, this ceremony was the handiwork of WBC president Mauricio Sulaiman who presented each of the honorees with a medal and Riddick Bowe was no friend of the WBC. In 1992, he famously dumped his WBC world title belt in the trash rather than comply with the organization’s mandate that he fight top contender Lennox Lewis. But Bowe, whose lone setback in 45 pro fights came in chapter two of a storied trilogy with Holyfield, was no less formidable at his peak than the other three.

Having said that, it was better that he wasn’t included. His presence would have put a damper on the proceedings.

At age 52, Riddick Bowe is younger than Tyson, Holyfield, or Lewis. But in terms of how far he has slipped since his fighting days, he’s a lot older. Making his story more discouraging, he believes that he can still compete at a high level and actually has a manager out there banging the drums on his behalf.

Bowe’s last meaningful fight was way back in 1996 when he fought the second of back-to-back fights with Andrew Golota. After those two unruly scrums, he was inactive for almost eight full years. During this period, he joined the U.S. Marines but was discharged after only 11 days and served 17 months in prison for interstate domestic violence and kidnapping after a bizarre attempt to repair his fractured relationship with his wife Judy and their five children.

Bowe returned to boxing after his long absence and had three more fights, the last of which transpired in December of 2008 when he won an 8-round decision over a third-rater in Germany. More recently, he tried his hand at Muay Thai. On June 14, 2013, carrying 300 pounds on his flabby frame, he was stopped in the second round on a show in Thailand in which he failed to land a single blow, whether a punch or a kick. ESPN’s Dan Rafael, who watched the fight on YouTube, wrote that anyone who watched it “saw an old man with no remaining discernible skills.”

Bowe never transcended the sport like Tyson or Holyfield in large part because of his limited vocabulary. Of course, he never had a chance to develop that vocabulary because his loquacious manager Rock Newman insisted on doing all the talking. And now it appears that history has repeated. By all accounts, Bowe’s new manager is cut from the same mold. Meet Eli Karabell.

On his web site, Eli Karabell, a fellow in his early 20’s, informs us that he is a “Businessman, Investor, Public Servant, Innovator, Community Leader, Entrepreneur, Politician, Social Activist and President and CEO of the American Boxing Association, a post to which he was appointed (presumably by himself). In his hometown of St. Louis, he is quite the gadfly. According to an article in the Jan. 20, 2018 issue of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Karabell antagonized former Missouri Governor Eric Greitens to such an extent that Greitens’ press secretary had to block his calls.

Since Nov. 23, a certain web site that we won’t name has run five ‘EXCLUSIVE’ stories quoting Karabell about Riddick Bowe’s comeback. In an early story, Karabell said, “I believe Mr. Bowe is the best fighter in the heavyweight division right now, bare none.” As for Bowe beginning his comeback with exhibitions, Karabell said that what he had in mind for him was proceeding directly into a series of 12-round fights.

More recently, Karabell expressed his frustration about failing to induce a top promoter into helping him facilitate Bowe’s comeback. Regarding Eddie Hearn, he said, “He has not read the contract (we sent him), will not respond to our offer and we believe he is trying to obstruct the process.”

Why wouldn’t he? In the immediate aftermath of his second fight with Andrew Golota, Bowe was slurring his words. During the trial that sent him to prison, Bowe’s attorneys argued that his conduct resulted from brain damage. A forensic psychiatrist, Dr. Neil Blumberg, testified that Bowe had suffered irreversible damage to the frontal lobe in his brain. More recently, a New York Times story by Alex Vadukul, published in 2015 – the year that Riddick Bowe was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame – noted that his voice “had warped into a slur.”

The nicest thing we can say about Eli Karabell is that he is pixilated. We have nothing nice to say about anyone in the boxing media who would give him a soapbox.

MGM Grand Garden photo compliments of Joe Santoliquito

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