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Thomas Hauser’s Notes and Nuggets: Boxing on UFC Fight Pass, Callum Walsh, and More

Dana White has talked about expanding UFC’s role in boxing. But for the most part, his involvement with the sweet science has been limited to club-fight cards on UFC Fight pass.
UFC Fight Pass is a streaming service that was launched in 2013 and offers combat-sports-related content on a worldwide basis. The cost in the United States is $9.99 per month (or $95.99 for a one-year subscription). Subscribers have access inter alia to the early preliminary bouts on UFC pay-per-view cards but not the chief supporting fights or main event.
The first boxing match on UFC Fight Pass featured a past-his-prime Roy Jones vs. Scott Sigmon on February 8, 2018. 360 Promotions (run by Tom Loeffler) is now its boxing promoter of choice. On Thursday, November 9, Loeffler promoted a seven-bout card in the Hulu Theater at Madison Square Garden. The event (seen live on UFC Fight Pass) was timed to feed off the attention being generated by UFC 295, which will take place in the main arena on Saturday night.
The Thursday card was a showcase for Callum Walsh, a 22-year-old native of Cork, Ireland who now lives in California. Walsh (pictured) entered the ring with an 8-0 (7 KOs) ring record and was matched against Ismael Villarreal (13-1, 9 KOs) in a ten-round junior-middleweight bout.
White hopes that Walsh will tap into the Conor McGregor fan base and become the next face of Irish boxing. With that in mind, he has put the UFC publicity machine behind him.
“Callum is getting a lot of support from UFC social media,” Loeffler noted at the final pre-fight press conference. “That gives him exposure to a wide audience.” The promoter then went into overdrive, declaring, “Callum has the makings of a global superstar.”
Talk like that is fine with Walsh, who says, “I’ve never wanted to do anything with my life but box. I’ve imagined myself in the spotlight for so long that the attention I’m getting now seems normal to me. I feel like I’m destined for greatness. I’m on the road to where I want to be.”
When fight night arrived, the seven fighters in the red (designated winners) corner had a composite 83-1-1 ring record built largely against suspect opposition The assumption (which proved correct) was that the numbers would be 90-1-1 when the night was over.
Cain Sandoval (now 11-0 with 11 KOs) looked like the most promising prospect on the card en route to a fifth-round stoppage of a game but overmatched Wesley Ferrer.
Eric Dali (who worked two of the bouts) showed again why he should be one of the go-to referees for big fights on the east coast.
Freddie Roach (who trains Walsh and two other fighters on the card) ennobled the proceedings with his presence.
Walsh is a southpaw with fast hands and reasonable power. Against Villarreal, he was the aggressor early. Then Ismael began letting his hands go. And after getting whacked a few times, Callum grew more cautious.
It was a good fight. Villarreal came to win. But so did Walsh. Callum was tested and he passed the test. Ismael tired in the late rounds and Walsh regained control (although he was dropped in the final stanza). The judges’ scores (97-92, 97-92, 96-93) were a bit wide of the mark. But the right guy won.
The current plan is for Walsh to return to Madison Square Garden next year on St. Patrick’s Day Weekend. At the moment, his press clippings have outstretched his accomplishments. But Callum has skills. He can punch. UFC has the infrastructure to promote fighters from ground level to major pay-per-view events. And as Jake Paul has taught us, this is a new age in boxing. The marketing of a fighter can now take precedence over his ring exploits.
*****
On November 7, DiBella Entertainment promoted a pro-am card at the Edison Ballroom in New York. “Heroes On The Hudson” was sponsored by Morgan Stanley and Cavu Securities with a portion of the proceeds going to charities that support wounded veterans. The action in the ring was typical club fight fare. And as the evening progressed, my mind wandered to Cedric Kushner.
Kushner died eight years ago and would have been seventy-five this year. He had a variety of nicknames. But the one that stuck among his friends was “Uncle Ced.”

Cedric Kushner
Cedric loved a night out with the boys. He was known for doing business with women of the night. And there was a memorable telephone call that he received from heavyweight contender Ike Ibeabuchi at three o’clock one morning. Ibeabuchi (who had significant mental health issues) called to tell Cedric (his promoter) that he was seeing demons. Cedric, in turn, told virtually everyone he spoke with the next day, “Knowing Ike, I understand why he was seeing demons. What I don’t understand is why he called me.”
When I began writing about boxing on a regular basis, I was dismissed by many of the sport’s power brokers as a fringe internet writer so I was accustomed to slights. Often, I found myself in conversation with a promoter or other insider who was looking over my shoulder for someone better to talk with. That never happened with Cedric. He always treated me with the same respect that he accorded major media figures. I was grateful for that. His memorial service (at which I spoke) was held at the Edison Ballroom with Lou DiBella presiding.
Everyone has their own favorite Cedric Kushner story, whether it’s about the hooker with knockout drops on her nipples or the duffel bag full of cash that Don King used to lure Hasim Rahman away from Cedric. Mine involves a drive from Atlantic City to New York that I shared with Cedric and Lou DiBella on the morning after a fight.
Lou was driving. There were three of us in his SUV. At various times, Cedric unfavorably critiqued Lou’s driving skills and complained about the music that Lou was playing. At one point, we stopped at a turnpike plaza for gas and a bite to eat. Most of the food lines were short. The exception was the line for Burger King (which looked to have a half-hour wait). So, of course, Cedric made his way toward the line for Burger King.
“Cedric,” Lou cautioned, “don’t get on that line.”
“I want a Whopper.”
“I’m not staying here for two hours so you can eat a Whopper.”
Needless to say, Cedric got on the line for Burger King.
“Cedric, I’m warning you. I’ll leave you on the f****** turnpike.”
Lou could be loud. And Cedric, who weighed more than 350 pounds at the time, was wearing shorts. So their exchange (which was growing increasingly animated) attracted considerable attention.
Cedric emphatically repeated his declaration. “I want a Whopper!”
“Cedric, so help me, God!” Lou was shrieking now. “I will f****** leave you here on the f****** turnpike and you’ll have to f****** find another way to get back to New York.”
Assessing the situation, Cedric concluded that, yes, Lou might actually leave him on the turnpike. So he joined me on the line for Sbarro to get a slice of pizza.
Slicing pizza is an inexact science. The young man behind the counter (he was about sixteen) gave me my slice and then gave a slice to Cedric. My slice was noticeably larger than Cedric’s.
Cedric looked at my slice and then at his . . . Looked at my slice and then at his.
“Excuse me,” Cedric said to the server. “Could you explain to me why his slice (gesturing toward my plate) is so much larger than mine?”
You could see the wheels in the young man’s head turning as he weighed how much of a wise-ass he should be. Finally, he said simply, “Hey! That’s life.”
Cedric contemplated the remark; decided that, yes, this was another one of life’s indignities; and paid for his slice. Then, as we were walking away from the counter, he turned to me and said, “I’m not a vengeful person. But I hope that young man is slicing pizza for the rest of his f****** life.”
Thomas Hauser’s email address is thomashauserwriter@gmail.com. His most recent book – The Universal Sport: Two Years Inside Boxing – was published by the University of Arkansas Press. In 2004, the Boxing Writers Association of America honored Hauser with the Nat Fleischer Award for career excellence in boxing journalism. In 2019, Hauser was selected for boxing’s highest honor – induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.
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A Paean to the Great Sportswriter Jimmy Cannon Who Passed Away 50 Years Ago This Week

“Of all his assignments,” said the renowned sportswriter Dave Anderson, “[Jimmy] Cannon appeared to enjoy boxing the most.”
Cannon would have sheepishly concurred. He dated his infatuation with boxing to 1919 when he stood outside a saloon listening to a man with a megaphone relay bulletins from the Dempsey-Willard fight in faraway Toledo. His father followed boxing as did all the Irishmen in his neighborhood. For him, an interest in the sport of boxing, he once wrote, was like a family heirloom. But it became a love-hate relationship. It was Jimmy Cannon, after all, who coined the phrase “boxing is the red light district of sports.”
This week marks the 50th anniversary of Jimmy Cannon’s death. He passed away at age 63 on Dec. 5, 1973, in his room at the residential hotel in mid-Manhattan where he made his home. In the realm of American sportswriters, there has never been a voice quite like him. He was “the hardest-boiled of the hard-drinking, hard-boiled school of sports writing,” wrote Darrell Simmons of the Atlanta Journal. One finds a glint of this in his summary of Sonny Liston’s first-round demolition of Albert Westphal in 1961: “Sonny Liston hit Albert Westphal like he was a cop.”
In his best columns, Jimmy Cannon was less a sportswriter than an urban poet. Here’s what he wrote about Archie Moore in 1955 after Moore trounced Bobo Olson to set up a match with Rocky Marciano: “Someone should write a song about Archie Moore who in the Polo Grounds knocked out Bobo Olson in three rounds…It should be a song that comes out of the backrooms of sloughed saloons on night-drowned streets in morning-worried parts of bad towns. The guy who writes this one must be a piano player who can be dignified when he picks a quarter out of the marsh of a sawdust floor.”
Prior to fighting in Madison Square Garden the previous year – his first appearance in that iconic boxing arena – Moore had roamed the globe in search of fights in a career that began in the Great Depression. Cannon was partial to boxers like Archie Moore, great ring artisans who toiled in obscurity, fighting for small purses –“moving-around money” in Cannon’s words — until the establishment could no longer ignore them.
Jimmy Cannon was born in Lower Manhattan. He left high school after one year to become a copy boy for the New York Daily News. In 1936, at age 26, the News sent him to cover the biggest news story of the day, the Lindbergh Baby kidnapping trial. While there he met Damon Runyon who would become a lifelong friend. At Runyon’s suggestion, he applied for a job as a sportswriter at the New York American, a Hearst paper, and was hired.
During World War II, he was a war correspondent in Europe embedded in Gen. George S. Patton’s Third Army. When he returned from the war, he joined the New York Post and then, in 1959, the Journal-American which made him America’s highest-paid sportswriter at a purported salary of $1000 a week. His articles were syndicated and appeared in dozens of papers.
Cannon was very close to Joe Louis. He was the only reporter that Louis allowed in his hotel room on the morning of the Brown Bomber’s rematch with Max Schmeling. Louis, he wrote, “was a credit to his race, the human race.” It was his most-frequently-quoted line.
In an early story, Cannon named Sam Langford the best pound-for-pound fighter of all time. Later he joined with his colleagues on Press Row in naming Sugar Ray Robinson the greatest of the greats. As for the fellow who anointed himself “The Greatest,” Muhammad Ali, Cannon profoundly disliked him. He persisted in calling him Cassius Clay long after Ali had adopted his Muslim name.
It troubled Cannon that Ali was afforded an opportunity to fight for the title after only 19 pro fights. Ali’s poetry, he thought, was infantile. He abhorred Ali’s political views. And, truth be told, he didn’t like Ali because certain segments of society adored him. Cannon didn’t like non-conformists – hippies and anti-war protesters and such. When queried about his boyhood in Greenwich Village, he was quick to note that he lived there “when it was a decent neighborhood, before it became freaky.”
Cannon’s animus toward Ali spilled over into his opinion of Ali’s foil, the bombastic sportscaster Howard Cosell. “If Howard Cosell were a sport,” he wrote,” it would be roller derby.”
Cannon frequently filled his column with a series of one-liners published under the heading “Nobody Asked Me, But…” His wonderfully acerbic put-down of Cosell appeared in one of these columns. But one can’t read these columns today without cringing at some of his ruminations. He once wrote, “Any man is in trouble if he falls in love with a woman he can’t knock down with one punch.” If a newspaperman wrote those words today, he would be out of a job so fast it would make his head spin.
Similarly, his famous line about Joe Louis being a credit to the human race no longer resonates in the way that it once did. There is in its benevolence an air of racial prejudice.
Jimmy Cannon was a lifelong bachelor but in his younger days before he quit drinking cold turkey in 1948, he was quite the ladies man, often seen promenading showgirls around town. Like his pal Damon Runyon, he was a night owl. As the years passed, however, he became somewhat reclusive. The world passed him by when rock n’ roll came in, pushing aside the Tin Pan Alley crooners and torch singers that had kept him company at his favorite late-night haunts.
Cannon’s end days were tough. He suffered a stroke in 1971 as he was packing to go to the Kentucky Derby and spent most of his waking hours in his last two-plus years in a wheelchair. Fortunately, he could afford to hire a full-time attendant. In 2002, he was posthumously elected to the International Boxing Hall of Fame in the Observer category.
Jimmy Cannon once said that he resented it when someone told him that his stuff was too good to be in a newspaper. It was demeaning to newspapers and he never wanted to be anything but a newspaperman. He didn’t always bring his “A” game and some of his stuff wouldn’t hold up well, but the man could write like blazes and the sportswriting profession lost a giant when he drew his last breath.
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Arne K. Lang is a recognized authority on the history of prizefighting and the history of American sports gambling. His latest book, titled Clash of the Little Giants: George Dixon, Terry McGovern, and the Culture of Boxing in America, 1890-1910, was released by McFarland in September, 2022.
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Ryan “KingRy” Garcia Returns With a Bang; KOs Oscar Duarte

It was a different Ryan “KingRy” Garcia the world saw in defeating Mexico’s rugged Oscar Duarte, but it was that same deadly left hook counter that got the job done by knockout on Saturday.
Only the quick survive.
Garcia (24-1, 20 KOs) used a variety of stances before luring knockout artist Duarte (26-1-1, 21 KOs) into his favorite punch before a sold-out crowd at Toyota Arena in Houston, Texas. That punch should be patented in gold.
It was somewhat advertised as knockout artist versus matinee idol, but those who know the sport knew that Garcia was a real puncher. But could he rebound from his loss earlier this year?
The answer was yes.
Garcia used a variety of styles beginning with a jab at a prescribed distance via his new trainer Derrick James. It allowed both Garcia and Duarte to gain footing and knock the cobwebs out of their reflexes. Garcia’s jab scored most of the early points during the first three rounds. He also snapped off some left hooks and rights.
“He was a strong fighter, took a strong punch,” said Garcia. “I hit him with some hard punches and he kept coming.”
Duarte, an ultra-pale Mexican from Durango, was cautious, knowing full well how many Garcia foes had underestimated the power behind his blows.
Slowly the muscular Mexican fighter began closing in with body shots and soon both fighters were locked in an inside battle. Garcia used a tucked-in shoulder style while Duarte pounded the body, back of the head and in the back causing the referee to warn for the illegal punches twice.
Still, Duarte had finally managed to punch Garcia with multiple shots for several rounds.
Around the sixth round Garcia was advised by his new trainer to begin jabbing and moving. It forced Duarte out of his rhythm as he was unable to punch without planting his feet. Suddenly, the momentum had reversed again and Duarte looked less dangerous.
“I had to slow his momentum down. That softened him up,” said Garcia about using that change in style to change Duarte’s pressure attack. “Shout out to Derrick James.”
Boos began cascading from the crowd but Garcia was on a roll and had definitely regained the advantage. A quick five-punch combination rocked Duarte though not all landed. The danger made the Mexican pause.
In the eighth round Duarte knew he had to take back the momentum and charged even harder. In one lickety-split second a near invisible counter left hook connected on Duarte’s temple and he stumbled like a drunken soldier on liberty in Honolulu. Garcia quickly followed up with rights and uppercuts as Duarte had a look of terror as his legs failed to maintain stability. Down he went for the count.
Duarte was counted out by referee James Green at 2:51 of the eighth round as Garcia watched from the other side of the ring.
“I started opening up my legs a little bit to open up the shot,” explained Garcia. “When I hurt somebody that hard, I just keep cracking them. I hurt him with a counter left hook.”
The weapon of champions.
Garcia’s victory returns him back to the forefront as one of boxing’s biggest gate attractions. A list of potential foes is his to dissect and choose.
“I’m just ready to continue to my ascent to be a champion at 140,” Garcia said.
It was a tranquil end after such a tumultuous last three days.
Other Bouts
Floyd Schofield (16-0, 12 KOs) blitzed Mexico’s Ricardo “Not Finito” Lopez (17-8-3) with a four knockdown blowout that left fans mesmerized and pleased with the fighter from Austin, Texas.
Schofield immediately shot out quick jabs and then a lightning four-punch combination that delivered Lopez to the canvas wondering what had happened. He got up. Then Scholfield moved in with a jab and crisp left hook and down went Lopez like a dunked basketball bouncing.
At this point it seemed the fight might stop. But it proceeded and Schofield unleashed another quick combo that sent Lopez down though he did try to punch back. It was getting monotonous. Lopez got up and then was met with another rapid fire five- or six-punch combination. Lopez was down for the fourth time and the referee stopped the devastation.
“I appreciate him risking his life,” said Schofield of his victim.
In a middleweight clash Shane Mosley Jr. (21-4, 12 KOs) out-worked Joshua Conley (17-6-1, 11 KOs) for five rounds before stopping the San Bernardino fighter at 1:51 of the sixth round. It was Mosley’s second consecutive knockout and fourth straight win.
Mosley continues to improve in every fight and again moves up the middleweight rankings.
Super middleweight prospect Darius Fulghum (9-0, 9 KOs) of Houston remained undefeated and kept his knockout string intact with a second round pounding and stoppage over Pachino Hill (8-5-1) in 56 seconds of that round.
Photo credit: Golden Boy Promotions
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Jordan Gill TKOs Michael Conlan Who May Have Reached the End of the Road

Fighting on his home turf, two-time Olympian Michael Conlan was an 8/1 favorite over Jordan Gill tonight in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Had he won, Matchroom promoter Eddie Hearn was eyeing a rematch for Conlan with Leigh Wood. Their March 2022 rumble in Nottingham was a popular pick for the Fight of the Year. But the 29-year-old Gill, a Cambridgeshire man, rendered that discussion moot with a seventh-round stoppage. It was Conlan’s third loss inside the distance in the last 18 months and he would be wise to call it a day. His punch resistance is plainly not what it once was.
It was with considerable fanfare that Conlan cast his lot with Top Rank coming out of the amateur ranks. Tonight was his first assignment for Matchroom and his first fight at 130 pounds after coming up short in two world featherweight title fights. And he almost didn’t make it past the second round. Gill had him on the canvas in the opening minute of round two compliments of a left hook and stunned him late in the round with a right hand that left him on unsteady legs.
He survived the round and for a fleeting moment in the sixth frame it appeared that he had reversed Gill’s momentum. But Gill took charge again in the next stanza, trapping Conlan in the corner and unloading a fusillade of punches that forced referee Howard Foster to waive it off, much to the great dismay of the crowd. The official time was 1:09 of round seven.
Released by Top Rank, Conlan trained for this fight in Miami, Florida, under Pedro Diaz, best known for rejuvenating the career of Miguel Cotto. But the switch in trainer and in promoter made no difference as Conlan, who won his first amateur title at age 11, was damaged goods before he entered the ring. It was a career-defining victory for Jordan Gill (28-2-1, 9 KOs) who was not known as a big puncher and was returning to the ring after being stopped by Kiko Martinez 13 months ago in his previous start.
Semi-wind-up
In the “Battle of Belfast,” undefeated welterweight Lewis Crocker seized control in the opening round and went on to win a lopsided decision over intra-city rival Tyrone McKenna (23-4-1). Two of the judges gave Crocker every round and the other had it 98-92, but yet this was entertaining fight in spurts. McKenna had more fans in the building, but Crocker, seven years younger at age 26, went to post a 7/2 favorite and youth was served.
Other Bouts of Note
Belfast super welterweight Caoimhin Agyarko, who overcame a near-fatal mugging at age 20, advanced to 14-0 (7) with a 10-round split decision over Troy Williamson (20-2-1). The judges had it 98-92 and 97-93 for Agyarko with a dissenter submitting a curious 96-94 score for the 31-year-old Williamson who wasn’t able to exploit his advantages in height and reach.
Sean McComb, a 31-year-old Belfast southpaw, scored what was arguably the best win of his career with a 10-round beat-down of longtime sparring partner Sam Maxwell. Two of the judges gave McComb every round and the other had it 99-88. McComb, who has an interesting nickname, “The Public Nuisance, successfully defended his WBO European super welterweight strap while elevating his record to 18-1 (6). The fading, 35-year-old Maxwell, a former BBBofC British title-holder, lost for third time in his last four starts after winning his first 16 pro fights.
Photo credit: Mark Robinson / Matchroom
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