A Long Time Coming, Nigel Collins’ Second Anthology Was Worth the Wait

Published

3 years ago

October 24, 2022

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It is human nature, one supposes, to categorize people as members of easily identifiable groups. As far as pet preferences go, there are dog people and there are cat people. It’s usually a bit more complicated than that, but for purposes of my review of Nigel Collins’ too-long-delayed and highly readable second boxing anthology, Hooking Off the Jab, my preferred frame of reference is the difference between mathematicians and, oh, boxing writers.

In mathematics, there is always one correct answer to any equation and math geeks like it when they can say with absolute certainty they’re right and everyone else is wrong. But if you’re a boxing writer at a major world championship bout, there could be hundreds of credentialed media members who see the same things, but produce reports that are slightly to vastly different, sometimes as individually distinguishable as fingerprints. All print or online journalists compete, in their own way, as fiercely as do gloved fighters, and all want their copy to stand out above that of their colleagues on press row. That, too, is human nature.

Nigel Collins and I have co-existed, at least in a manner of speaking, in the same geographical and professional spheres for 35-plus years, and it is our shared good fortune that we arrived in the great fight city of Philadelphia from different points of origin – he from England, I from New Orleans via several other stops along the way – to cover a sport which has become such an integral part of our lives. But while we are on reasonably friendly terms, we do not interact socially and sometimes we have been made aware of the fact that we don’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on every issue of the day. And that’s OK, because it does not and could never detract from the fact that I am a huge proponent of his depth of knowledge about boxing, and his undeniable gift for expressing his passion for it through the power and majesty of the written word.

Nigel has authored stories about boxing for many media outlets, including two stints as editor of The Ring during which he assigned me a number of stories for the magazine. I, along with many other fans of his work, have waited 32 years for a follow-up to his first anthology of the sweet science, Boxing Babylon, which was published in 1990. With Hooking Off the Jab, a 322-page collection of his most personal remembrances of fights and fighters, he demonstrates that, in the parlance of baseball, he has not lost any hop off his literary fastball.

All of which raises a question, one that I think I can answer from my own experience. Once upon a time, at a newspaper for which I toiled before arriving at the Philadelphia Daily News in the spring of 1984, I was offered the opportunity to be promoted to sports editor, at a higher salary. To do so I would have to make story assignments and vacation schedules, attend daily editorial board conferences, all the while somehow ensuring that the reporters answering to me were kept as content as possible in a business where someone’s perception of his or her place in the pecking order is always open to personal perspective and attitude adjustment. A lot of potential problems, sure, but the real downside was that being the departmental boss would severely cut down on my available time to write, which was a tradeoff I could never accept. Regardless of occupation, each one of us has to recognize our strengths and cater to them for our own peace of mind and probable career advancement. Nigel took on those administrative duties and their attendant headaches a couple of times, but my suspicion is that, in retrospect, he might have preferred to write more and edit at least a bit less.

Readers of mystery/crime novels all have their favorite authors, but mine has always been James Lee Burke, and not just because he is a native Louisianian. On nearly every page of Burke’s many books, there is a turn of phrase that is stunning, a flash of brilliance that paints a word picture that elevates the genre in which he labors to high art instead of simple narrative. In reading Hooking Off the Jab, several of Nigel’s descriptions rise to that level, and, no, not all of his entries are celebratory paeans to the sweet science. He sees the warts and blemishes, too, and has no qualms in pointing them out. Loving boxing does not mean one is forever obligated to like every facet of it. In detailing the factors that possibly contributed to the post-fight riot in Madison Square Garden after Riddick Bowe’s disqualification victory over low-blow artist Andrew Golota in the first of their two foulfests, Nigel puts it this way:

“There’s the contagion theory,” said Jason Lanter, a psychology professor at Kutztown University. “We know people do things in crowds they would not do alone. They think they’re anonymous. People make poor decisions in crowds. Another factor is tribalism, a strong loyalty to one’s own tribe, party or group, which was essential to the early survival of the human species.

Disqualifications are a comparatively small percentage of overall results. Usually, it’s the audience that goes bonkers. Despite all efforts to suppress those darker parts of our nature, boxing fans are still boxing fans, a cult that worships at the altar of violence.”

A similar repudiation of the mob mentality that can affect a boxing arena, soccer pitch or anywhere else where tensions can run high is expressed in Nigel’s recollections of the ugly scene that occurred in London’s Wembley Arena on Sept. 27, 1980, when many fans of dethroned middleweight champion Alan Minter, more than a few of whom were inebriated, reacted to the third-round TKO victory by American challenger Marvin Hagler by hurling objects at Hagler and his cornermen. It is a benchmark of Hagler’s greatness, he continues, that he took all that negative energy, stored it internally, and used it as motivational fuel for the rest of his legendary career.

Bitterness and anger can eat you alive, but it can also be the generator that drives your ambition. The differences between the two is discipline and balls enough to go for what you want, and Hagler had plenty of both. He brandished the chip on his shoulder like a cudgel, bashing down his opponents and the doors of the boxing establishment.

There are, of course, references to the late, great Muhammad Ali, whose metamorphosis from divisive firebrand during a contentious period of American history to beloved and sympathetic figure later in life is examined by Nigel, who attended Ali’s funeral procession in Louisville, Ky.

How strange that a boxer, a man who rose to fame by hurting other men, has been transformed into a symbol of peace. Had he been a preacher, his silver tongue and pretty face may have made him rich, but a boxer is something different … A boxer is the other side of the coin, the darkness without which there would be no light. Somehow, Ali managed to become both.

It comes as absolutely no surprise to me that Nigel, as is the case with all boxing aficionados, includes an entry on a fighter particularly near and dear to his heart, former middleweight contender Bennie Briscoe, who in the 1970s was as much of a Philly sports icon as Mike Schmidt, Bobby Clarke and Ron Jaworski. Dig just below the skin of every boxing writer, even those who most closely adhere to the doctrine of professional impartiality, and a vein of hero admiration can be found. That was mined in Nigel’s description of the first fight he covered for The Ring, the Oct. 11, 1972, pairing of Briscoe and Luis Vinales at the Arena, which ended with Bad Bennie winning by seventh-round stoppage.

I can still see him in my mind’s eye, his trademark shaven skull shining in the lights as he jogged down the aisle to the ring, the crowd cheering every step. The anticipation was palatable. You knew that if Bennie Briscoe was on the card, you were going to see a real fight. Somebody was going to be hurt … Bennie was my favorite fighter. Not the best I’ve seen, but my favorite, nonetheless. For me, he was the strongest symbol of the wonderful decade of the 1970s when Philadelphia boxing was basking in the rays of its last golden era.

It should also come as no surprise to those who appreciate artistic accomplishment in all its varied forms that Nigel, before turning his full attention to the sweet science, was temporarily a student at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, in part because of a submission for enrollment that was a relatively crude reproduction of a Boxing Illustrated cover of a fight between Gene Fullmer and Dick Tiger. To the eternal betterment of boxing, the would-be artist proved far more adept with a note-taking pen in his grasp than a paint brush.

Artists living eccentric and often selfish lives are pretty much the norm. The truth is that in the long run, it’s the art that really matters, not the person who created it. Like boxers, artists sacrifice body and soul in pursuit of their aspirations. They couldn’t stop if they wanted to.

And this, Nigel’s very cultured impression of the three-act passion play that was the Arturo Gatti-Micky Ward archrivalry: Taken as a whole, the melodrama that was the Gatti-Ward trilogy could very well provide fodder for Euripides, Sophocles and their brethren, the guys who left the toga parties long enough to write Greek tragedies. Surely Shakespeare could do it justice.

For what it is worth, my third boxing anthology, Championship Rounds, Round 3, will be coming out very soon. Some of the stories contained therein are my versions of ones that appear in Hooking Off the Jab. But Nigel and I are not mathematicians, and I suspect he welcomes, as do I, the chance to emerge victorious in any war of the words. But I have read what he wrote in beating me to the book-release punch, and I’m thinking I could live with a draw.

Bernard Fernandez, named to the International Boxing Hall of Fame in the Observer category with the Class of 2020, was the recipient of numerous awards for writing excellence during his 28-year career as a sports writer for the Philadelphia Daily News. Fernandez’s first book, “Championship Rounds,” a compendium of previously published material, was released in May of last year. The sequel, “Championship Rounds, Round 2,” with a foreword by Jim Lampley, is currently out. The anthology can be ordered through Amazon.com and other book-selling websites and outlets.

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Avila Perspective, Chap. 326: Top Rank and San Diego Smoke

Published

3 hours ago

May 9, 2025

David A. Avila

Avila Perspective, Chap. 326: Top Rank and San Diego Smoke

Years ago, I worked at a newsstand in the Beverly Hills area. It was a 24-hour a day version and the people that dropped by were very colorful and unique.

One elderly woman Eva, who bordered on homeless but pridefully wore lipstick, would stop by the newsstand weekly to purchase a pack of menthol cigarettes. On one occasion, she asked if I had ever been to San Diego?

I answered “yes, many times.”

She countered “you need to watch out for San Diego Smoke.”

This Saturday, Top Rank brings its brand of prizefighting to San Diego or what could be called San Diego Smoke. Leading the fight card is Mexico’s Emanuel Navarrete (39-2-1, 32 KOs) defending the WBO super feather title against undefeated Filipino Charly Suarez (18-0, 10 KOs) at Pechanga Arena. ESPN will televise.

This is Navarrete’s fourth defense of the super feather title.

The last time Navarrete stepped in the boxing ring he needed six rounds to dismantle the very capable Oscar Valdez in their rematch. One thing about Mexico City’s Navarrete is he always brings “the smoke.”

Also, on the same card is Fontana, California’s Raymond Muratalla (22-0, 17 KOs) vying for the interim IBF lightweight title against Russia’s Zaur Abdullaev (20-1, 12 KOs) on the co-main event.

Abdullaev has only fought once before in the USA and was handily defeated by Devin Haney back in 2019. But that was six years ago and since then he has knocked off various contenders.

Muratalla is a slick fighting lightweight who trains at the Robert Garcia Boxing Academy now in Moreno Valley, Calif. It’s a virtual boot camp with many of the top fighters on the West Coast available to spar on a daily basis. If you need someone bigger or smaller, stronger or faster someone can match those needs.

When you have that kind of preparation available, it’s tough to beat. Still, you have to fight the fight. You never know what can happen inside the prize ring.

Another fighter to watch is Perla Bazaldua, 19, a young and very talented female fighter out of the Los Angeles area. She is trained by Manny Robles who is building a small army of top female fighters.

Bazaldua (1-0, 1 KO) meets Mona Ward (0-1) in a super flyweight match on the preliminary portion of the Top Rank card. Top Rank does not sign many female fighters so you know that they believe in her talent.

Others on the Top Rank card in San Diego include Giovani Santillan, Andres Cortes, Albert Gonzalez, Sebastian Gonzalez and others.

They all will bring a lot of smoke to San Diego.

Probox TV

A strong card led by Erickson “The Hammer” Lubin (26-2, 18 KOs) facing Ardreal Holmes Jr. (17-0, 6 KOs) in a super welterweight clash between southpaws takes place on Saturday at Silver Spurs Arena in Kissimmee, Florida. PROBOX TV will stream the fight card.

Ardreal has rocketed up the standings and now faces veteran Lubin whose only losses came against world titlists Sebastian Fundora and Jermell Charlo. It’s a great match to decide who deserves a world title fight next.

Another juicy match pits Argentina’s Nazarena Romero (14-0-2) against Mexico’s Mayelli Flores (12-1-1) in a female super bantamweight contest.

Nottingham, England

Anthony Cacace (23-1, 8 KOs) defends the IBO super featherweight title against Leigh Wood (28-3, 17 KOs) in Wood’s hometown on Saturday at Nottingham Arena in Nottingham, England. DAZN will stream the Queensberry Promotions card.

Ireland’s Cacace seems to have the odds against him. But he is no stranger to dancing in the enemy’s lair or on foreign territory. He formerly defeated Josh Warrington in London and Joe Cordina in Riyadh in IBO title defenses.

Lampley at Wild Card

Boxing telecaster Jim Lampley will be signing his new book It Happened! at the Wild Card Boxing gym in Hollywood, Calif. on Saturday, May 10, beginning at 2 p.m. Lampley has been a large part of many of the greatest boxing events in the past 40 years. He and Freddie Roach will be at the signing.

Fights to Watch (All times Pacific Time)

Sat. DAZN 11 a.m. Anthony Cacace (23-1) vs Leigh Wood (28-3).

Sat. PROBOX.tv 3 p.m. Erickson Lubin (26-2) vs Ardreal Holmes Jr. (17-0).

Sat. ESPN 7 p.m. Emanuel Navarrete (39-2-1) vs Charly Suarez (18-0); Raymond Muratalla (22-0) vs Zaur Abdullaev (20-1).

Photo credit: Mikey Williams / Top Rank

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“Breadman” Edwards: An Unlikely Boxing Coach with a Panoramic View of the Sport

Published

23 hours ago

May 8, 2025

Arne K. Lang

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Stephen “Breadman” Edwards’ first fighter won a world title. That may be some sort of record.

It’s true. Edwards had never trained a fighter, amateur or pro, before taking on professional novice Julian “J Rock” Williams. On May 11, 2019, Williams wrested the IBF 154-pound world title from Jarrett Hurd. The bout, a lusty skirmish, was in Fairfax, Virginia, near Hurd’s hometown in Maryland, and the previously undefeated Hurd had the crowd in his corner.

In boxing, Stephen Edwards wears two hats. He has a growing reputation as a boxing coach, a hat he will wear on Saturday, May 31, at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas when the two fighters that he currently trains, super middleweight Caleb Plant and middleweight Kyrone Davis, display their wares on a show that will air on Amazon Prime Video. Plant, who needs no introduction, figures to have little trouble with his foe in a match conceived as an appetizer to a showdown with Jermall Charlo. Davis, coming off his career-best win, an upset of previously undefeated Elijah Garcia, is in tough against fast-rising Cuban prospect Yoenli Hernandez, a former world amateur champion.

Edwards’ other hat is that of a journalist. His byline appears at “Boxing Scene” in a column where he answers questions from readers.

It’s an eclectic bag of questions that Breadman addresses, ranging from his thoughts on an upcoming fight to his thoughts on one of the legendary prizefighters of olden days. Boxing fans, more so than fans of any other sport, enjoy hashing over fantasy fights between great fighters of different eras. Breadman is very good at this, which isn’t to suggest that his opinions are gospel, merely that he always has something provocative to add to the discourse. Like all good historians, he recognizes that the best history is revisionist history.

“Fighters are constantly mislabled,” he says. “Everyone talks about Joe Louis’s right hand. But if you study him you see that his left hook is every bit as good as his right hand and it’s more sneaky in terms of shock value when it lands.”

Stephen “Breadman” Edwards was born and raised in Philadelphia. His father died when he was three. His maternal grandfather, a Korean War veteran, filled the void. The man was a big boxing fan and the two would watch the fights together on the family television.

Edwards’ nickname dates to his early teen years when he was one of the best basketball players in his neighborhood. The derivation is the 1975 movie “Cornbread, Earl and Me,” starring Laurence Fishburne in his big screen debut. Future NBA All-Star Jamaal Wilkes, fresh out of UCLA, plays Cornbread, a standout high school basketball player who is mistakenly murdered by the police.

Coming out of high school, Breadman had to choose between an academic scholarship at Temple or an athletic scholarship at nearby Lincoln University. He chose the former, intending to major in criminal justice, but didn’t stay in college long. What followed were a succession of jobs including a stint as a city bus driver. To stay fit, he took to working out at the James Shuler Memorial Gym where he sparred with some of the regulars, but he never boxed competitively.

Over the years, Philadelphia has harbored some great boxing coaches. Among those of recent vintage, the names George Benton, Bouie Fisher, Nazeem Richardson, and Bozy Ennis come quickly to mind. Breadman names Richardson and West Coast trainer Virgil Hunter as the men that have influenced him the most.

We are all a product of our times, so it’s no surprise that the best decade of boxing, in Breadman’s estimation, was the 1980s. This was the era of the “Four Kings” with Sugar Ray Leonard arguably standing tallest.

Breadman was a big fan of Leonard and of Leonard’s three-time rival Roberto Duran. “I once purchased a DVD that had all of Roberto Duran’s title defenses on it,” says Edwards. “This was a back before the days of YouTube.”

But Edwards’ interest in the sport goes back much deeper than the 1980s. He recently weighed in on the “Pittsburgh Windmill” Harry Greb whose legend has grown in recent years to the point that some have come to place him above Sugar Ray Robinson on the list of the greatest of all time.

“Greb was a great fighter with a terrific resume, of that there is no doubt,” says Breadman, “but there is no video of him and no one alive ever saw him fight, so where does this train of thought come from?”

Edwards notes that in Harry Greb’s heyday, he wasn’t talked about in the papers as the best pound-for-pound fighter in the sport. The boxing writers were partial to Benny Leonard who drew comparisons to the venerated Joe Gans.

Among active fighters, Breadman reserves his highest praise for Terence Crawford. “Body punching is a lost art,” he once wrote. “[Crawford] is a great body puncher who starts his knockouts with body punches, but those punches are so subtle they are not fully appreciated.”

If the opening line holds up, Crawford will enter the ring as the underdog when he opposes Canelo Alvarez in September. Crawford, who will enter the ring a few weeks shy of his 38^th birthday, is actually the older fighter, older than Canelo by almost three full years (it doesn’t seem that way since the Mexican redhead has been in the public eye so much longer), and will theoretically be rusty as 13 months will have elapsed since his most recent fight.

Breadman discounts those variables. “Terence is older,” he says, “but has less wear and tear and never looks rusty after a long layoff.” That Crawford will win he has no doubt, an opinion he tweaked after Canelo’s performance against William Scull: “Canelo’s legs are not the same. Bud may even stop him now.”

Edwards has been with Caleb Plant for Plant’s last three fights. Their first collaboration produced a Knockout of the Year candidate. With one ferocious left hook, Plant sent Anthony Dirrell to dreamland. What followed were a 12-round setback to David Benavidez and a ninth-round stoppage of Trevor McCumby.

Breadman keeps a hectic schedule. From Monday through Friday, he’s at the DLX Gym in Las Vegas coaching Caleb Plant and Kyrone Davis. On weekends, he’s back in Philadelphia, checking in on his investment properties and, of greater importance, watching his kids play sports. His 14-year-old daughter and 12-year-old son are standout all-around athletes.

On those long flights, he has plenty of time to turn on his laptop and stream old fights or perhaps work on his next article. That’s assuming he can stay awake.

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Arne’s Almanac: The Good, the Bad, and the (Mostly) Ugly; a Weekend Boxing Recap and More

Published

3 days ago

May 6, 2025

Arne K. Lang

Arne's-Almanac-The-Good-the-Bad-and-the-(mostly)-Ugly-A-Weeend-Boxing-Recap-and-More

Arne’s Almanac: The Good, the Bad, and the (Mostly) Ugly; a Weekend Boxing Recap and More

It’s old news now, but on back-to-back nights on the first weekend of May, there were three fights that finished in the top six snoozefests ever as measured by punch activity. That’s according to CompuBox which has been around for 40 years.

In Times Square, the boxing match between Devin Haney and Jose Carlos Ramirez had the fifth-fewest number of punches thrown, but the main event, Ryan Garcia vs. Rolly Romero, was even more of a snoozefest, landing in third place on this ignoble list.

Those standings would be revised the next night – knocked down a peg when Canelo Alvarez and William Scull combined to throw a historically low 445 punches in their match in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, 152 by the victorious Canelo who at least pressed the action, unlike Scull (pictured) whose effort reminded this reporter of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” – no, not the movie starring Paul Newman, just the title.

CompuBox numbers, it says here, are best understood as approximations, but no amount of rejiggering can alter the fact that these three fights were stinkers. Making matters worse, these were pay-per-views. If one had bundled the two events, rather than buying each separately, one would have been out $90 bucks.

****

Thankfully, the Sunday card on ESPN from Las Vegas was redemptive. It was just what the sport needed at this moment – entertaining fights to expunge some of the bad odor. In the main go, Naoya Inoue showed why he trails only Shohei Ohtani as the most revered athlete in Japan.

Throughout history, the baby-faced assassin has been a boxing promoter’s dream. It’s no coincidence that down through the ages the most common nickname for a fighter – and by an overwhelming margin — is “Kid.”

And that partly explains Naoya Inoue’s charisma. The guy is 32 years old, but here in America he could pass for 17.

Joey Archer

Joey Archer, who passed away last week at age 87 in Rensselaer, New York, was one of the last links to an era of boxing identified with the nationally televised Friday Night Fights at Madison Square Garden.

Joey Archer

Archer made his debut as an MSG headliner on Feb. 4, 1961, and had 12 more fights at the iconic mid-Manhattan sock palace over the next six years. The final two were world title fights with defending middleweight champion Emile Griffith.

Archer etched his name in the history books in November of 1965 in Pittsburgh where he won a comfortable 10-round decision over Sugar Ray Robinson, sending the greatest fighter of all time into retirement. (At age 45, Robinson was then far past his peak.)

Born and raised in the Bronx, Joey Archer was a cutie; a clever counter-puncher recognized for his defense and ultimately for his granite chin. His style was embedded in his DNA and reinforced by his mentors.

Early in his career, Archer was domiciled in Houston where he was handled by veteran trainer Bill Gore who was then working with world lightweight champion Joe Brown. Gore would ride into the Hall of Fame on the coattails of his most famous fighter, “Will-o’-the Wisp” Willie Pep. If Joey Archer had any thoughts of becoming a banger, Bill Gore would have disabused him of that notion.

In all honesty, Archer’s style would have been box office poison if he had been black. It helped immensely that he was a native New Yorker of Irish stock, albeit the Irish angle didn’t have as much pull as it had several decades earlier. But that observation may not be fair to Archer who was bypassed twice for world title fights after upsetting Hurricane Carter and Dick Tiger.

When he finally caught up with Emile Griffith, the former hat maker wasn’t quite the fighter he had been a few years earlier but Griffith, a two-time Fighter of the Year by The Ring magazine and the BWAA and a future first ballot Hall of Famer, was still a hard nut to crack.

Archer went 30 rounds with Griffith, losing two relatively tight decisions and then, although not quite 30 years old, called it quits. He finished 45-4 with 8 KOs and was reportedly never knocked down, yet alone stopped, while answering the bell for 365 rounds. In retirement, he ran two popular taverns with his older brother Jimmy Archer, a former boxer who was Joey’s trainer and manager late in Joey’s career.

May he rest in peace.

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