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Notes and Nuggets from Thomas Hauser
Notes and Nuggets from Thomas Hauser
Pete Rose was inappropriately named. His bulky torso blended into a thick neck at one end and heavy bulging thighs at the other. He had heavy eyebrows, dark piercing eyes, and a granite-like jutting jaw. “Pete Bulldog” would have been better nomenclature. He was not evocative of a rose.
Rose played baseball in an era when fans wanted their sports heroes to be good guys.
He wasn’t.
Rose was married twice and was an unrepentant philanderer throughout both marriages. When he was in his thirties – he later admitted – he had sexual relations with a 14-year-old girl. In 1990, he pled guilty to two charges of filing false income tax returns and was sentenced to five months in prison.
A report compiled for Major League Baseball by John Dowd in 1989 concluded that Rose made at least 412 wagers on baseball games in 1985, 1986, and 1987. Fifty-two of those wagers were on teams that Rose played on and/or managed. As a result, he was banned for life from Major League baseball – a ban that precluded his being employed by any major league team and also from being considered for induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame.
The only thing Rose seemed sorry about was that he had been caught and punished. But as a baseball player, he was a legend.
Rose was born in 1941 – the year that Ted Williams batted .406 and Joe DiMaggio hit safely in 56 consecutive games. He played in the major leagues from 1963 through 1986. Baseball was more than a job to him. It was his way of life. Rose, it was said, was a baseball player first and a person second.
“Everybody wants a base hit when he goes up to bat,” Mickey Mantle observed. “But with Pete, you always had the feeling that he wanted it more.”
Rose was the National League Rookie of the Year in 1963 and its Most Valuable Player ten years later. With a lifetime batting baverage of .303, he was far from being baseball’s greatest hitter. But he was its most persistent and durable good one.
On September 11, 1985, Rose lined a single to centerfield off San Diego pitcher Eric Show for the 4,192nd base hit of his remarkable career. In so doing, he surpassed the “unbreakable” record emblazoned in baseball’s record book by Ty Cobb.
“Millions of Americans have fantasized about breaking Ty Cobb’s record,” Rose said. “But I’m the one who’s doing it.”
He finished his career with 4,256 base hits. Other MLB records that he holds to this day include most games played (3,562), most plate appearances (15,890), most career singles (3,215) and, less laudably, most career outs (10,328). He ranks second in career doubles (746), sixth in runs scored (2,165), and ninth in total bases (5,752).
“Statistics,” Rose once said, “are what let you look at a player who died before you were born and make him your hero.”
There was a time when Rose also tried his hand at boxing. When he was six years old, his father gave him a pair of boxing gloves and taught him the rudiments of self-defense. Later, Pete had two amateur fights and lost both of them.
“Just before my sixteenth birthday,” Rose reminisced years later, “Dad arranged for my first amateur match at the Finley Street neighborhood club. I fought Virgil Coles, an experienced boxer from the inner city who pretty much used me as his punching bag. But I took everything Coles dished out and on occasion landed a few wild punches myself. I was getting my brains beat out. Dad knew it but didn’t want me to see that he was concerned. I stood on my feet for the full three rounds and never once hit the canvas.”
And Rose’s second fight?
“The second one was against a guy who had five kids at ringside watching. I didn’t get knocked out. But I did say to myself, ‘I better go play ball.’”
Rose died from cardiovascular illness on September 30 at age 83. When I heard the news, my mind wandered back to two conversations that I had long ago.
The first conversation was with Rose shortly before he broke Ty Cobb’s record.
“I’ve won more games than any professional athlete ever,” Rose told me over lunch. “Baseball, football, basketball, you name it. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? I’ve walked off the field a winner more than nineteen hundred times. I’ve won more baseball games than forty-five Hall of Famers played in. I’m the winningest professional athlete ever.”
“What about Willie Shoemaker?” I queried. “He won more than six thousand races.”
That earned me a dirty look and the rejoinder, “Yeah; but jockeys have eight or nine shots at winning every day.”
The second conversation was with Tim McCarver fourteen years later. McCarver was an all-star catcher and World Series champion before becoming one of baseball’s great television commentators.
“Should Pete Rose be in the Hall of Fame?” I asked.
“That’s a difficult question,” McCarver answered. “It would be very awkward for Pete to be in the Hall of Fame until he’s reinstated by Major League Baseball. So here we are in a society that’s very forgiving, but the powers that be have yet to forgive Pete Rose.”
“If the powers that be asked you for a recommendation,” I pressed, “what would you say?”
“I’d say it’s time; that Pete has been punished enough.”
That conversation took place a quarter-century ago. My opinion at the time was that Rose should not be eligible for induction into the baseball Hall of Fame.
Now Rose exists only in memory and in baseball lore. To quote Tim McCarver, “It’s time. Pete has been punished enough.”
* * *
Lou DiBella promoted a club-fight card at Madison Square Garden’s Hulu Theater on Wednesday night. The opening and closing bouts call for comment.
In the first fight of the evening, Jerry Forrest (27-6-2, 20 KOs, 2 KOs by) was matched against Earl Newman (10-3, 7 KOs, 1 KO by).
Forrest has had eight step-up fights in his career and failed to win any of them. Forty-four months ago, he survived three knockdowns to salvage a draw when a grossly-out-of-shape Zhilel Zhang all but collapsed under his own weight. That made Forrest a bit of a name. Then, two years ago, he was beaten so savagely by Jared Anderson that hardened ringside observers cringed at the carnage.
Newman was winless in his last four bouts dating back to 2016.
Forrest wasn’t in fighting shape. And Newman (who has fought at weights as low as 177 pounds) weighed in at 252 pounds.
Both men looked tired when the fight began and more tired as the eight-round contest dragged on. Boxing is hard. I understand that. And each fighter gave an honest effort. But it was a painfully slow, sluggish encounter with the fighters moving as though they were in waist-high water. Forrest won a unanimous decision and did a back-flip in the ring after the decision was announced. If only he’d been that active during the fight.
Forrest-Newman was sad. The closing fight of the evening featured the outrageous.
Women’s boxing is erratic. At one end of the spectrum, Madison Square Garden has hosted legitimate championship fights like Katie Taylor vs. Amanda Serrano and Sandy Ryan vs. Mikaela Meyer that enobled the sport. But a study by John Sheppard of BoxRec.com several years ago noted that there were more available women’s “championship” belts than active women boxers.
Miyo Yoshida (17-4 with zero knockouts either way) had one of those belts – the IBF 118-pound strap. She won it last year by outboxing Ebanie Bridges (a paper champion whose greatest notoriety stemmed from having ample breast implants and appearing at weigh-ins dressed like a lingerie model). Yoshida was defending her belt at the Hulu Theater against 39-year-old Shurretta Metcalf (13-4-1, 2 KOs) who beat Mio by decision last year.
Yoshida-Metcalf looked like a club fight, not a “championship” bout. Metcalf had a huge advantage in height and reach, and Yoshida didn’t know how to bob and weave to get inside. Meanwhile, Shurretta threw wild punches from long range all night. When she landed, it seemed almost by accident.
The decision could have gone either way. I thought each fighter clearly won three rounds with four rounds up for grabs. Then the judges’ verdict was announced: 96-94, 97-93, and an abominable 99-91 for Metcalf.
97-93 was a stretch. 99-91 reeked of being an agenda-driven scorecard.
Matt Delaglio was recently named executive director of the New York State Athletic Commission and inherited a job that has long been marked by incompetence and neglect. Delagio is conscientious and well-qualified for the position. But he has a lot of work to do. One of the things on his “to-do list” should be an overhaul of ring judging in New York. Right now, the judging in New York is unacceptable.
* * *
Earlier this year, the IBF was in the spotlight for fragmenting the heavyweight title by virtue of its decision to strip Oleksansr Usyk of his belt and recognize Daniel Dubois as heavyweight champion of the world. On December 7, the WBA will outdo that absurdity by sanctioning a fight between Mahmood Charr and Kubrat Pulev for its “regular” heavyweight championship of the world.
Charr, age 40, has not fought since 2022 and is best known for being knocked out twelve years ago by Vitali Klitschko. He is the current WBA “champion” and, according to Wikipedia, underwent double hip replacement surgery in 2017.
Pulev, 43, has won two fights in the past three years (against Ihor Shevadzutskyi and Andrzaj Wawrzyk) and is best known for being knocked out by Wladimir Klitschko and Anthony Joshua.
This is the environment boxing has created that turns off fans and drives them to other sports.
* * *
World in My Corner (1956) is one of those hokey, old, black-and-white boxing movies that’s fun if you like hokey, old, black-and-white boxing movies.
Audie Murphy plays Tommy Shea, a poor kid from New Jersey struggling to make it as a fighter. There’s a crooked promoter (the reprehensible Harry Cram), an honest trainer (the saintly Dave Bernstein), and a love interest (the beautiful Dorothy Mallinson, who suffers under the thumb of her wealthy controlling father). The real Jimmy Lennon Sr plays ring announcer Jimmy Lennon Sr. Chico Vejar (a veteran of 116 fights in the 1950s) plays welterweight champion Al Carelli.
More on Cram: You know a promoter is a bad guy when, almost always, he’s smoking a cigar.
Audie Murphy is unconvincing as a hard-luck tough from the wrong side of the river. Think Tom Cruise in a boxing ring. The love story is trite, but so is the rest of the film.
Dorothy: Can I ask you something?
Tommy: Sure
Dorothy: Why do you fight?
Tommy: You’re not asking me something. You’re asking me everything.
Tommy agrees to throw a fight against Carelli to get the money to marry Dorothy. Then he changes his mind.
Tommy: I’m not throwing the fight.
Cram: I don’t like your sense of humor.
If you’re a fan of old-time boxing movies, World in My Corner is fun.
Photo (c) Wojtek Urbanek
Thomas Hauser’s email address is thomashauserwriter@gmail.com. His most recent book – MY MOTHER and me – is a personal memoir available at Amazon.com. https://www.amazon.com/My-Mother-Me-Thomas-Hauser/dp/1955836191/ref=sr_1_1?crid=5C0TEN4M9ZAH&keywords=thomas+hauser&qid=1707662513&sprefix=thomas+hauser%2Caps%2C80&sr=8-1
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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Remembering the Macho Man, Hector Camacho, a Great Sporting Character
Twelve years ago tomorrow, on Nov. 24, 2012, Hector Camacho was officially declared dead. He was effectively dead before then, having suffered a heart attack in the hospital after his spinal cord had been severed by a bullet, but his attendants at the hospital in Bayamon, Puerto Rico, waited until his mother had arrived from New York to remove him from life support.
At the age of 50, one of the most charismatic personalities in the sporting life of America was silenced forever.
Hector “Macho” Camacho, the Macho Man, was flamboyant – boy was he ever – but he was also a great talent. A three-time New York City Golden Gloves champion, reputedly 96-4 as an amateur, he was undefeated in 31 bouts at 135 pounds and below and went on to conquer some of the sport’s biggest names – Boom Boom Mancini, Vinny Pazienza, Roberto Duran (twice), Sugar Ray Leonard – before the sun set on his long career.
Camacho was born in Bayamon but grew up in Spanish Harlem where his mother moved when he was four. He was 21 years old and 21-0 as a junior lightweight when he was first profiled in Sports Illustrated, then the best medium for enhancing the marketability of a young athlete. At this juncture in his life, Hector, who became a father at age 17, was still living in a Spanish Harlem housing project, sharing an apartment with his 38-year-old mother, his stepfather, three siblings, a niece and a nephew.
By then he had already been expelled from six schools and was no stranger to the legal system, having spent 3 ½ months at New York’s notorious Rikers Island for — as Pat Putnam phrased it — borrowing other people’s automobiles without their permission.
The story in S.I. noted that Camacho’s reflexes were so quick that he could play two video games at once. Among his many physical attributes, it was his hand speed that attracted the most attention. When he ramped up his offense, his fists were a blur. But eventually, when folks thought of Camacho, what they remembered was his choirboy face with the spit curl in the middle of his forehead and his outrageous ring costumes which ran the gamut from a loincloth to a dress.
Hot-dogging came natural to Hector Camacho; it was embedded in his DNA. And in common with Muhammad Ali, he could be arrogant without coming across as arrogant. There was an impish quality to his bravado. He was fun to be around and, in his own words, could light up a room like a Christmas tree.
What Camacho lacked was any capacity for embarrassment.
Former WBA super bantamweight champion Clarence “Bones” Adams, who is now the proprietor of a Las Vegas gym that bears his name, became fast friends with the Macho Man when both trained in Las Vegas, the host city for their most lucrative fights. Mention Camacho’s name to Adams and a smile creases his face if he doesn’t burst out laughing.
“One day after Hector and I had gone jogging,” recollects Adams, “we drove over to the old White Cross Drugs [on the north Strip near the Stratosphere] to grab a bite to eat at their lunch counter. When we left and were standing outside by the car, Hector said, ‘Hold on a minute, I have to go pee.’ I said I’ll wait for you but then I noticed he was already peeing. Some cars honked as they passed by.
“Greg Hannely, my manager at the time, and I went to Detroit in 2000 to support Hector who was on the undercard of a show featuring Thomas Hearns. At the weigh-in, Hector wore a long shirt with nothing underneath it. This wasn’t apparent until he stepped off the scale and started doing jumping jacks.
“Hector,” continues Adams, “once had a Ferrari that he misplaced; he couldn’t remember where he parked it. He never did recover that car, but he wasn’t too bothered by it. His attitude was, ‘there’s always more where it came from.’” (Presumably this was the same Ferrari that Camacho was driving when he was ticketed for driving too slow with a suspended license on a Florida highway while being pleasured by a woman sitting astride him.)
Historians would compartmentalize Camacho’s career into two segments. Part One ended with his successful lightweight title defense against Edwin Rosario at Madison Square Garden on June 13, 1986.
Camacho kept his undefeated record intact, prevailing on a split decision, but ended the fight looking as if he had taken all the worst of it. Badly hurt in the fifth round and again in the 11th, he repaired to his dressing room with a swollen nose and two black eyes.
This fight, reads a story in a Canadian paper, “persuaded him to scale back his ultra-aggressive style in favor of a more cerebral, defensive approach.” That’s a diplomatic way of saying that Camacho devolved into a runner.
In his next fight, Camacho proved too clever for Cornelius Boza-Edwards, winning a unanimous decision, but the crowd didn’t like it when Hector spent the last two rounds on his bicycle and there were boos aplenty as the match wended to its conclusion. This would be the Macho Man’s final fight as a lightweight. He moved up to 140 where a slew of attractive match-ups awaited, notably a showdown with Julio Cesar Chavez.
Camacho and Chavez touched gloves in Las Vegas on Sept. 13, 1992, before an announced crowd of 19,100 at the UNLV basketball arena in what reportedly was the fastest sellout in Las Vegas boxing history up to that date. Chavez, widely seen as the top pound-for-pound fighter in the sport, advanced his record to 82-0 with a lopsided decision, winning all 12 rounds on the card of one of the judges. The Macho Man, who had avenged his lone defeat to Greg Haugen, declined to 41-2.
This wasn’t a milquetoast performance by Camacho. He simply couldn’t deal with Chavez’s unrelenting pressure. LA Times scribe Alan Malamud wrote that Hector showed unexpected grit by trading with Chavez after his legs were gone, thereby reducing him to a stationary target. But more brickbats came Camacho’s way following setbacks to Felix Trinidad and Oscar De La Hoya. He lasted the distance in both bouts but was roundly out-pointed. By the third round of the De La Hoya fight, wrote Kevin Iole, it was a foregone conclusion that De La Hoya would win.
Between the Trinidad and De La Hoya fights, staged 44 months apart, Camacho had 21 fights and won them all. His victims were mostly journeyman with two notable exceptions. On June 22, 1996, he scored a 12-round unanimous decision over 45-year-old Roberto Duran. Eight months later, he defeated another faded legend when he stopped Sugar Ray Leonard in the fifth round. Leonard, who had been out of the ring for six years, was forever retiring and unretiring and Camacho retired him for good. Both bouts were in Atlantic City.
A wag wrote that Sugar Ray was 40 years old going on 41 and that Camacho was 35 years old going on puberty.
Camacho’s advisors kept him busy to keep his name in the news and Hector did his part by making the news for bad behavior outside the ring. In January of 2005, he was arrested for the November 2004 burglary of a computer store in Gulfport, Mississippi. He went there to retrieve a laptop that was being repaired but entered the property after hours by way of the ceiling. An illegal drug, ecstasy, was found in his hotel room when he was placed under arrest.
After serving five months in jail, Camacho was released with the understanding that he would be placed under house arrest for one year when he returned to Puerto Rico but, by all accounts, the authorities in Puerto Rico were never notified of this arrangement.
Camacho’s frequent misdeeds, once seen as the amusing antics of a fun-loving man-child, came to be seen in a different light as he grew older; as a pattern of behavior that betrayed a dark side in his personality.
In a 1985 conversation with New York Times boxing writer Michael Katz, Camacho’s estranged manager Billy Giles said, “someday he’ll wind up like Tyrone Everett, maybe worse,” the reference to a talented junior lightweight from Philadelphia who was murdered under sordid circumstances.
That proved to be eerily prophetic.
Camacho had 20 more fights after his hollow performance against Oscar De La Hoya, ending his career as a bloated middleweight. His only noteworthy opponent during this final phase of his boxing career was Duran who was then 50 years old when they clashed in Denver. In a bout that echoed their first meeting, Hector won a unanimous decision. This was Roberto Duran’s farewell fight. Camacho soldiered on for eight more bouts, winning five.
In November of 2012, thirty months after his last ring assignment, Hector Camacho and a companion were ambushed as they sat in a car in the darkened parking lot of a Bayamon, Puerto Rico bar. The companion died instantly in the hail of bullets. Police found nine packets of cocaine on the decedent and an open packet of cocaine in the car.
Camacho’’s funeral was held at Harlem’s landmark Saint Cecilia’s Church. Hundreds of mourners stood in the cold outside the church as his casket was being placed in the funeral car. They cheered and shouted Camacho’s battle cry, “Macho Time,” as the hearse pulled away.
They say you shouldn’t speak bad about the dead, so we will let Bones Adams have the last word. “Hector had his demons,” says Adams, “but he was a great friend, a nice, kind, and caring guy.”
—
Editor’s note: For more on Hector Camacho, check out Christian Giudice’s biography, “Macho Time: The Meteoric Rise and Tragic Fall of Hector Camacho,” published by Hamilcar in 2020.
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Avila Perspective, Chap. 304: A Year of Transformation in Boxing and More
A subtle transformation in professional boxing is taking place with the biggest fights no longer placed in Las Vegas, New York or Los Angeles. Instead, they are heading to the Middle East.
Golden Boy Promotions joined the crowd last week with one of their stronger fight cards taking place in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The main attractions were new unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto “Zurdo” Ramirez of Mexico along with Puerto Rico’s diminutive Oscar Collazo unifying the minimumweight division.
And there is more to come.
Matchroom Boxing seemed to lead the way in this rerouting of major boxing events. It goes as far back as December 2019 when Anthony Joshua fought Andy Ruiz in a rematch for the heavyweight championship in Diriyah, Saudi Arabia.
Little by little major fights are being rerouted to Saudi Arabia.
Is it a good thing or not?
For promoters looking to cut costs it’s definitely welcomed. But what does it do for the fan base accustomed to saving their money to buy tickets for one or two major events?
Now there is talk of Shakur Stevenson, Devin Haney and Terence Crawford heading to the Middle East to fight on major cards sponsored by “Riyad Spring.” It’s a new avenue for the sport of pro boxing.
This past week Golden Boy and its roster of Latino fighters took its turn and showed off their brand of aggressive fights. Some like Collazo and Arnold Barboza made the best of their moments. And, of course, Zurdo proved he should have moved up in weight years ago. He could be the Comeback Fighter of the Year.
Benavidez vs Morrell
Interim light heavyweight champion David Benavidez accepted a challenge from WBA light heavyweight titlist David Morrell to meet on Feb. 1 at T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas.
Bad blood between the two tall fighters already exists.
Morrell claims Benavidez is over-rated.
“I’m getting the knockout. 100%. He’s all talk and no bite. He can’t do what he thinks he’s gonna do,” said Morrell. “He has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s provoking me and now I want to go out there and beat the crap out of him. I’m here now and none of that talk matters.”
Benavidez begs to differ.
“Here we are again. I told you that I was going to give you the fights you want to see, and now we’re here,” Benavidez said while in Los Angeles. “Morrell has been talking about me for a while and disrespecting me. He wanted to make it personal with me, so I’m personally going to break his mouth. That’ll give him something to remember me by.”
Also scheduled to fight on the fight card are Isaac Cruz, Stephen Fulton, Brandon Figueroa and Jesus Ramos Jr.
Netflix
No surprise for me with the massive success of the Jake Paul and Mike Tyson event on the Most Valuable Promotions boxing card last week.
According to Netflix there were 108 million people tuned into the event last Friday that also featured the incredible Amanda Serrano and Katie Taylor rematch. Another exciting card was the men’s welterweight clash between Mario Barrios and Abel Ramos that ended in a draw.
If fans weren’t satisfied with the Paul fight, they certainly got their fulfillment with the world title fights, especially Serrano and Taylor who were estimated to be viewed by more than 72 million people. No female fight in history can touch those numbers.
So, what’s next for Netflix in terms of boxing?
West Coast Blues
Southern California is usually a hotbed for boxing events no matter what time of the year. But this year only a few boxing cards are taking place within a driving distance until the end of the year.
Las Vegas is in slumber and Southern California has a few smaller boxing cards still on schedule. Arizona has a significant Top Rank fight card in a few weeks as does Golden Boy Promotions in the Inland Empire.
Here are some upcoming fight events worth noting:
Dec. 5 – at OC Hangar in Costa Mesa, Calif. Vlad Panin vs Sal Briceno by SOCA Fights.
Dec. 7 – at Footprint Center in Phoenix, Rafael Espinoza vs Robeisy Ramirez and Oscar Valdez vs Emanuel Navarrete by Top Rank.
Dec. 13, at Chumash Casino 360 in Santa Ynez, Calif. Carlos Balderas vs Cesar Villarraga by 360 Promotions.
Dec. 14 at Toyota Arena in Ontario, Calif. Alexis Rocha vs Raul Curiel by Golden Boy Promotions.
Turkeys in East L.A.
The 25th annual Turkey Giveaway by Golden Boy takes place on Saturday Nov. 23, at Oscar De La Hoya Animo High School starting at 11 a.m.
It’s incredible that 25 years have passed since the inception of this yearly event. Many current and past fighters for the promotion company will be passing out turkeys and meeting fans. Among those expected to appear are Alexis Rocha, Victor Morales, Joel Iriarte, Bryan Lua and others.
Photo: Eddie Hearn, Frank Warren, and HE Turki Alalshikh at the Joshua-Dubois fight
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Philly’s Jesse Hart Continues His Quest plus Thoughts on Tyson-Paul and ‘Boots’ Ennis
Jesse Hart (31-3, 25 KOs) returns to the ring tomorrow night (Friday, Nov. 22) on a Teflon Promotions card at the Liacouras Center on the campus of Temple University. During a recent media workout for the show, which will feature five other local fighters in separate bouts, Hart was adamant that fighting for the second time this year at home will only help in his continuing quest to push towards a second chance at a world championship. “Fighting at home is always great and it just makes sense from a business standpoint since I already have a name in the sport and in the city,” said Hart (pictured on the left).
Hart’s view of where his career currently resides in relation to the landscape in the light heavyweight division leads you to believe that, at the age of 35, Hart is realistic about how far he can go before his career is over.
“Make good fights, win those fights, fight as much as I can and stay busy, that’s the way the light heavyweight division won’t be able to ignore me,” he says. Aside from two losses back in 2017 and 2018 to current unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto Ramirez at super middleweight, Hart’s only other defeat was to Joe Smith during Smith’s most successful portion of his career.
When attempts to make fights with (at the time) up-and-coming prospects like Edgar Berlanga and David Benavidez were denied with Hart being viewed as the typical high risk-low reward opponent, it was time to find another way. So, Hart decided to stay local after splitting with Top Rank Promotions post-surgery to repair his longtime right-hand issues and hooked up with Teflon Promotions, an upstart company that is the latest to take on the noble endeavor of trying to return North Broad Street and Atlantic City to boxing prominence.
In essence, it is a calculated move that is potentially a win-win situation for all parties. Continued success for Hart along with some of the titles at light heavyweight eventually being released from Artur Beterbiev’s grasp due to outside politics, and Jesse Hart just may lift up Teflon Promotions into a major player on the regional scene.
Tickets for Friday’s show are available on Ticketmaster platforms.
**
As we entered November, a glance at the boxing schedule made me wonder if it was possible for the sport to have a memorable month — one that could shine a light forward in boxing’s ongoing quest to regain relevance in today’s sports landscape. Having consecutive weekends with events that could spark interest in the pugilistic artform and its wonderful characters was what I was hoping for, but what we got instead was more evidence that boxing isn’t immune to modern business practices landing a one-two punch on the action both inside and outside of the ring.
Jaron “Boots” Ennis was expected to make a statement in his rematch with Karen Chukhadzian on Nov. 9, a statement to put the elite level champions around his weight class on notice. What we witnessed, however, was more evidence of how current champions in their prime can be hampered by having to navigate a business that functions through the cooperation of independent contractors. Ennis got the job done – he won – but it was a lackluster performance.
It’s time for Ennis to fight the fighters we already thought we would have seen him fight by now and I do believe there is some truth to Ennis rising to the occasion if there was a more noteworthy name across the ring.
—
Some positives emerged from the Mike Tyson-Jake Paul event the following week. Amanda Serrano, Katie Taylor, and women’s boxing are finally getting the public recognition they deserve. Mario Barrios’s draw against the tough Abel Ramos, also on the Netflix broadcast, was an action-packed firefight. So, mainstream America and beyond got to witness actual fights before being subjected to Paul’s latest circus.
Unfortunately for fans, but fortunately for Paul, the lone true boxing star in the main event dimmed out from an athletic standpoint decades ago. In this instance modern business practices allowed for a social media influencer to stage his largest money grab from a completely unnuanced public.
As Paul rose to the ring apron from the steps and looked around “Jerry’s World,” taking in the moment, it reminded me of an actual fighter when they’re about to enter the ring taking in the atmosphere before they risk their lives after a lifetime of dedication to try and realize a childhood dream. In this case though, this was a natural-born hustler realizing as he made it to the ring apron that his hustle was likely having its moment of glory.
In boxing circles, Jake Paul is viewed as a “necessary evil.” What occurs in his fights are merely an afterthought to the spectacle that is at the core of the social media realm that birthed him. Hopefully the public learned from the atrocity that occurred once the exhibition started that smoke and mirrors last for only so long. Hopefully Paul’s moment of being a boxing performer and acting like a true fighter comes to its conclusion. But he isn’t going away anytime soon, especially since his promotional company is now in bed with Netflix.
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