A Paean to George Foreman (1949-2025), Architect of an Amazing Second Act

Published

3 weeks ago

March 24, 2025

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George Foreman had two careers as a prizefighter. He finished his first career with a record of 45-2 and his second career with a record of 31-3.

The two careers were interrupted by a 10-year intermission. During the lacuna, George morphed seamlessly into a different person. The first George Foreman was menacing and the second George Foreman was cuddly. But in both incarnations, Foreman was larger than life. It seemed as if he would be with us forever.

George Foreman, born in 1949 in Marshall, Texas, a suburb of Houston, learned to box in the Job Corps, a federally-funded vocational training program central to President Lyndon Johnson’s anti-poverty initiative. He was already well-known when he made his pro debut in 1969 on a card at Madison Square Garden topped by an alluring contest between Joe Frazier and Jerry Quarry.

The previous year, at the Olympic Summer Games in Mexico City, George endeared himself to the vast majority of white Americans (and many African-Americans too) by parading around the ring clutching a tiny American flag in his right hand after winning his gold medal match with a second-round stoppage of his Russian opponent. The scene was viewed by millions on television and the picture of it graced the front page of many large-circulation American papers.

The image would not have resonated as strongly if not for the actions of medal-winning American sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos. Ten days earlier, at the same Summer Games, Smith and Carlos stood on the podium with their black-gloved fists clenched high in a black power salute during the playing of the National Anthem. Big George, although only 19 years old, was hailed as a patriot, an antidote to those that would tear apart (or further rent) the fabric of American society.

Foreman squandered the admiration that flowed his way with his disposition. He didn’t handle the demands of celebrityhood very well. Reporters found him stand-offish if not downright surly. But he kept winning.

Foreman was never better than on the night of Jan. 22, 1973, when he conquered defending heavyweight champion Joe Frazier in less than two rounds at Kingston, Jamaica. Frazier, like Foreman, unbeaten and a former Olympic gold medalist, was as high as a 5/1 favorite in U.S. precincts, but George demolished him. Frazier was up and down like a yo-yo, six times in all, during the brief encounter.

In his next two fights, Foreman knocked out veteran Puerto Rican campaigner Joe Roman in the opening round and took out Ken Norton in the second frame, the same Ken Norton who had fought 24 rounds with Muhammad Ali, winning and losing split decisions.

Then came the iconic Rumble in the Jungle and we know what happened there. Riding a skein of 24 wins inside the distance, Foreman entered that contest with a record of 40-0 and the prevailing sentiment among the cognoscenti was that he would horizontalize Muhammad Ali in the same fashion as he had starched most of his other victims.

Following this setback, Foreman sat out all of 1976. He would have six more fights before his goodbye starting with a bout at Caesars Palace with Ron Lyle.

Foreman bombed out Lyle in the fifth frame of a back-and-forth slugfest that would be named The Ring magazine Fight of the Year. Four more knockouts would follow beginning with a fifth-round stoppage of Joe Frazier in their second and final meeting and then came a date in San Juan with Jimmy Young, a cutie from Philadelphia.

Foreman and Young met on a sultry afternoon in March of 1977 at the Roberto Clemente Coliseum, a building with no air-conditioning. Foreman nearly took Young out in the seventh round of the 12-round contest but ran out of gas and lost a unanimous decision.

In his dressing room after the fight, Foreman experienced an epiphany and became a born-again Christian. His trainer Gil Glancy rationalized the voices that Foreman heard in his head as a hallucination born of heat prostration, but George was having none of it. He returned to Houston where he could be found evangelizing on street corners or preaching as a guest pastor in storefront churches. His Rolls Royce was gone, replaced by a Volkswagen, and he found coveralls more to his liking than the fancy silk suits he had once purchased in bulk. He eventually established his own church, the Church of Lord Jesus Christ, and became an ordained minister.

ACT TWO

F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, “There are no second acts in American lives,” but Fitzgerald never met Reverend George Foreman.

Foreman’s second act began on March 9, 1987, before an announced crowd of 5,555 at Arco Arena in Sacramento with a fourth-round stoppage of journeyman Steve Zouski. He told reporters in attendance that he would use his purse, reportedly $24,000, to build a youth center but the cynics were of the opinion that every penny would go into his coffers as expensive divorces and other burdens had exhausted his savings. When George passed the collection plate at his church, wisecracked the wiseguys, all that came back was lint.

Although Foreman had been out of action for a decade, it seemed much longer. By then, Muhammad Ali had fallen into decrepitude, dating an entire generation of heavyweights as relics. In appearance and in fighting style, Foreman scarcely resembled his former self which had the sensory effect of elongating the gap in his timeline. The new George Foreman shaved his head bald and his torso was more massive. When he sallied out of his dressing room, Hall of Fame boxing writer Graham Houston likened the impression to that of an ancient battleship coming out of the mist.

This reporter was ringside for Foreman’s second comeback fight at the Oakland Coliseum where he was paired against Charles Hostetter, a smallish heavyweight packaged as the heavyweight champion of Texas. Hostetter folded his tent in the third round, taking a knee like a quarterback running out the clock at the end of a football game. Foreman carried 247 pounds, 20 pounds less than what he had carried for Zouski but nearly 30 pounds more than what he had carried in his first meeting with Joe Frazier.

The Hostetter fight was a set-up, as were many of Foreman’s fights in the first two years of his comeback, but Big George never cheated himself. Away from the probing eye of reporters, he always went the extra mile in his workouts.

Foreman stayed busy, but his comeback proceeded in fits and starts. In his eighth comeback fight, he stopped Dwight Muhammad Qawi in the seventh round (more exactly, Qawi quit, turning his back on the referee to signal that he was finished) at Caesars Palace, but it was a lackluster performance by George whose punches were slow and often missed the mark. This was the same Dwight Muhammad Qawi who had given Evander Holyfield a tough tussle in a 15-round barnburner when both were cruiserweights, but against Foreman the “Camden Buzzsaw” was a bloated butterball, carrying 222 pounds on his five-foot-seven frame.

The bout’s promoter, Bob Arum, exhorted Foreman go back to the bushes to freshen-up and when George returned to the ring nine weeks later it was in Alaska in an off-TV fight against an opponent with a losing record.

But Foreman’s confidence never wavered and when he finally lured a big-name opponent into the ring, Gerry Cooney, he was more than ready. They met on Jan. 16, 1990, at Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City.

At age 33, Cooney was also on the comeback trail. He hadn’t fought in two-and-half years, not since being stopped in the fifth round by Michael Spinks in this same ring. Since his mega-fight with Larry Holmes in mid-1982, he had answered the bell for only 12 rounds. But, rusty or not, Cooney still possessed a sledgehammer of a left hook.

Cooney landed the harder punches in the first round and won the round on all three cards, but Big George was just warming up. In the second stanza, he decked Cooney twice. The second knockdown was so harsh that referee Joe Cortez waived the fight off without starting a count.

“He smote him,” wrote Phil Berger for his story in the New York Times. “The Punching Preacher gained a flock of converts,” said Bernard Fernandez in the Philadelphia Daily News.

Foreman called out Mike Tyson after the fight. The wheels were set in motion when they shared top billing on a card at Caesars Palace in June of 1990 (Tyson knocked out former amateur rival Henry Tillman in the opening round; Foreman dismissed the Brazilian, Adilson Rodrigues, in round two), but the match never did come to fruition and Foreman, tired of waiting, set his sights on Evander Holyfield who owned two of the three meaningful pieces of the world heavyweight title.

An Adonis-physiqued gladiator renowned for his vitality, Holyfield, 28, figured to be too good and too fast for Foreman. If Evander set a fast pace, Foreman, it seemed, would eventually crumble from exhaustion. “Hopefully Holyfield will take it easy on him,” wrote the sports editor of the Tennessean. “There’s no glory to be gained in mugging a senior citizen.”

Holyfield won the fight, but Foreman – the oldest man to challenge for a world title in any weight division to that point in time — won the hearts of America with his buoyant performance. On several occasions Holyfield rattled him, but Big George kept coming back for more and at the finish it was he, improbably, who seemed to have more fuel in his tank. After trouncing Gerry Cooney, casual fans, at least most of them, finally took him seriously and with his gallant performance against Holyfield, he graduated into a full-fledged American folk hero. One would be hard-pressed to find an example of a boxer elevating his stature to such an extent in a match that he lost.

There was more to George Foreman’s growing popularity. He proved to be a great salesman, leavening his fistic fearsomeness with self-effacing humor. He developed an amusing shtick that played off his fondness for cheeseburgers and he became a popular guest on the talk show circuit. “Is this Adilson Rodrigues a good fighter?” inquired Johnny Carson. “I sure hope not,” deadpanned Foreman.

History would show that Big George wasn’t done making miracles, but there were potholes in his path. He had ended the Holyfield fight with a puffy face and with swelling around both of his eyes, but he looked a lot worse following his 10-round match with Alex Stewart in April of 1992. At the final bell, his face was a bloody mess and both of his eyes were swollen nearly shut. Fortunately, he scored two knockdowns in the second stanza, without which he would have been on the wrong side of a split decision.

Two fights later, he was out-pointed by Tommy Morrison in a bout sanctioned as a world title fight by the fledgling and lightly-regarded World Boxing Organization (WBO). Purportedly a distant relative of John Wayne, “Tommy the Duke” had the equalizer, a Cooney-ish left hook, but there were holes in his defense. A slugfest on paper, this bout played out like a chess match. Go figure.

Eighteen months after his lackluster showing against Morrison, Foreman got another shot at the world heavyweight title, thrust against Michael Moorer who had upset Holyfield to win the WBA and IBF (and lineal) titles. (The WBC version was held by Lennox Lewis; Mike Tyson was in prison.) A former light heavyweight champion who had successfully defended that diadem nine times, Moorer, not quite 27 years old, was undefeated in 35 fights with 30 knockouts.

The match-up was widely disparaged because of the alphabet soup nonsense and because Foreman was coming off a loss. “Big George has been good for the game, but has outstayed his welcome,” wrote Harry Mullen. The noted British scribe, who had been ringside for Larry Holmes’ beatdown of Muhammad Ali, told his readers that he wouldn’t be going to Las Vegas to see the fight because he just couldn’t stomach yet another dispiriting spectacle. “The most likely outcome,” he said, “is a prolonged and painful beating.”

At this juncture of his life, Foreman didn’t need the money. Although his TV sitcom “George” had been cancelled after only eight episodes (George played a retired boxer who starts an after-school program for inner-city kids), he had money rolling in from a slew of endorsements. McDonald’s, KFC, Frito-Lay, Oscar Meyer – you name it – and Big George was a “brand ambassador.” With his purse of no great importance in the big picture, George’s only incentive for defeating Moorer was his pride.

Through nine rounds, Moorer vs. Foreman was a tedious affair. Moorer was ahead by a commanding 5 points on two of the scorecards while the third judge had Moorer ahead by only 1. Foreman, who scored 68 knockouts over the course of his pro career, always had a puncher’s chance, no matter the opponent, but there was no inkling of the thunderclap that would come. This was shaping up as the sort of fight that would have the patrons streaming to the exits before the final bell.

The thunderclap arrived in the final minute of the 10^th frame. It was a classic British punch in execution, a stiff right hand delivered straight from the shoulder. The punch didn’t travel far, but landed smack on Moorer’s jaw. His face went blank and he fell to the canvas where he lay prone as the referee counted him out. Before the stupefied crowd had a chance to soak it all in, Foreman dropped to his knees in prayer. Many were misty-eyed as ring announcer Michael Buffer made it formal, orating the particulars.

Six days after the 20^th anniversary of the Rumble in the Jungle, Big George Foreman had rolled back the clock, recapturing the world heavyweight title, or at least pieces of it, capping the most astonishing comeback in the history of human endurance sports.

Foreman would have four more fights before leaving the sport for good two months shy of his 49^th birthday. We won’t delve into those bouts other than noting that he was fortunate to get the nod over Axel Schulz and unfortunate to lose to Shannon Briggs in his farewell fight, a narrow decision widely assailed as a heist.

And the money kept rolling in. In 1994, the year that Foreman conquered Michael Moorer, a portable indoor grill that came to be called the George Foreman Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine was introduced to the public. The contraption proved so popular that Foreman, the TV pitchman and the face of it, reaped a reported $200 million in royalties, more money than he had earned in all of his prizefights combined.

They say you can never go home again, to which Big George replied , “bah, humbug.”

Foreman’s heroics during his Second Act put a spring my step and had the same effect on many others. In the words of the inimitable Jim Murray, he was a hero to every middle-aged man and older who looked in the mirror and saw some stranger looking back at him.

Thank you, George, thanks for the memories. Rest in peace

***

Note: TSS editor-in-chief Arne K. Lang is the author of five books including “Prizefighting: An American History,” released by McFarland in 2016 and re-released in a paperback edition in 2020. Several of the passages in this story were extracted from that book.

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Jaron ‘Boots’ Ennis Wins Welterweight Showdown in Atlantic City

Published

2 days ago

April 12, 2025

David A. Avila

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In the showdown between undefeated welterweight champions Jaron “Boots Ennis walked away with the victory by technical knockout over Eamantis Stanionis and the WBA and IBF titles on Saturday.

No doubt. Ennis was the superior fighter.

“He’s a great fighter. He’s a good guy,” said Ennis.

Philadelphia’s Ennis (34-0, 30 KOs) faced Lithuania’s Stanionis (15-1, 10 KOs) at demonstrated an overpowering southpaw and orthodox attack in front of a sold-out crowd at Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

It might have been confusing but whether he was in a southpaw stance or not Ennis busted the body with power shots and jabbed away in a withering pace in the first two rounds.

Stanionis looked surprised when his counter shots seemed impotent.

In the third round the Lithuanian fighter who trains at the Wild Card Gym in Hollywood, began using a rocket jab to gain some semblance of control. Then he launched lead rights to the jaw of Ennis. Though Stanionis connected solidly, the Philly fighter was still standing and seemingly unfazed by the blows.

That was a bad sign for Stanionis.

Ennis returned to his lightning jabs and blows to the body and Stanionis continued his marauding style like a Sherman Tank looking to eventually run over his foe. He just couldn’t muster enough firepower.

In the fifth round Stanionis opened up with a powerful body attack and seemed to have Ennis in retreat. But the Philadelphia fighter opened up with a speedy combination that ended with blood dripping from the nose of Stanionis.

It was not looking optimistic for the Lithuanian fighter who had never lost.

Stanionis opened up the sixth round with a three-punch combination and Ennis met him with a combination of his own. Stanionis was suddenly in retreat and Ennis chased him like a leopard pouncing on prey. A lightning five-punch combination that included four consecutive uppercuts delivered Stanionis to the floor for the count. He got up and survived the rest of the round.

After returning shakily to his corner, the trainer whispered to him and then told the referee that they had surrendered.

Ennis jumped in happiness and now holds the WBA and IBF welterweight titles.

“I felt like I was getting in my groove. I had a dream I got a stoppage just like this,” said Ennis.

Stanionis looked like he could continue, but perhaps it was a wise move by his trainer. The Lithuanian fighter’s wife is expecting their first child at any moment.

Meanwhile, Ennis finally proved the expectations of greatness by experts. It was a thorough display of superiority over a very good champion.

“The biggest part was being myself and having a live body in front of me,” said Ennis. “I’m just getting started.”

Matchroom Boxing promoter Eddie Hearn was jubilant over the performance of the Philadelphia fighter.

“What a wonderful humble man. This is one of the finest fighters today. By far the best fighter in the division,” said Hearn. “You are witnessing true greatness.”

Other Bouts

Former featherweight world champion Raymond Ford (17-1-1, 8 KOs) showed that moving up in weight would not be a problem even against the rugged and taller Thomas Mattice (22-5-1, 17 KOs) in winning by a convincing unanimous decision.

The quicksilver southpaw Ford ravaged Mattice in the first round then basically cruised the remaining nine rounds like a jackhammer set on automatic. Four-punch combinations pummeled Mattice but never put him down.

“He was a smart veteran. He could take a hit,” said Ford.

Still, there was no doubt on who won the super featherweight contest. After 10 rounds all three judges gave Ford every round and scored it 100-90 for the New Jersey fighter who formerly held the WBA featherweight title which was wrested from him by Nick Ball.

Shakhram Giyasov (17-0, 10 KOs) made good on a promise to his departed daughter by knocking out Argentina’s Franco Ocampo (17-3, 8 KOs) in their welterweight battle.

Giyasov floored Ocampo in the first round with an overhand right but the Argentine fighter was able to recover and fight on for several more rounds.

In the fourth frame, Giyasov launched a lead right to the liver and collapsed Ocampo with the body shot for the count of 10 at 1:57 of the fourth round.

“I had a very hard camp because I lost my daughter,” Giyasov explained. “I promised I would be world champion.”

In his second pro fight Omari Jones (2-0) needed only seconds to disable William Jackson (13-6-2) with a counter right to the body for a knockout win. The former Olympic medalist was looking for rounds but reacted to his opponent’s actions.

“He was a veteran he came out strong,” said Jones who won a bronze medal in the 2024 Paris Olympics. “But I just stayed tight and I looked for the shot and I landed it.”

After a feint, Jackson attacked and was countered by a right to the rib cage and down he went for the count at 1:40 of the first round in the welterweight contest.

Photo credit: Matchroom

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Boxing Notes and Nuggets from Thomas Hauser

Published

3 days ago

April 12, 2025

Thomas Hauser

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Jack Dillon’s name doesn’t resonate with boxing fans today. But he was important in his time.

Ernest Coulter Price was born in 1891 and turned pro at age seventeen. According to legend, when asked his name by the referee before his first fight, he answered “Sidney Dillon” (the name of a racehorse in a stable where he’d worked). The referee misunderstood him, announced him as “Jack Dillon,” and Jack Dillon was his fighting name from then on.

Dillon stood a shade over 5 feet 7 inches tall. He earned renown as a small light-heavyweight, was known as “Jack the Giant Killer,” and compiled a 94-9-16 (65 KOs, 2 KOs by) ring record not counting an estimated 125 “newspaper decisions.” He defeated Battling Levinsky in 1914 to claim the world 175-pound championship and lost the title to Levinsky two years later. He fought Levinsky ten times, winning six with two losses and two draws.

Dillon was always willing to go in tough. But he fought too long, got hit too often, and drank too much. He died at age 51 in a state psychiatric hospital in Florida.

Jack Dillon by Mark Allen Baker (McFarland & Company) tracks Dillon’s life and ring career from beginning to end. To his credit, Baker has done an enormous amount of research. But his writing style is heavy. He falls short of recreating a long-ago era when boxing captivated America. The character portraits are one-dimensional. And the book reads as though, after studying hundreds if not thousands of newspaper clippings, Baker decided to insert every bit of information he found. There are descriptions of fight after fight after fight after fight after fight after fight. After a while, most of the fights no longer seem to matter.

And when Baker tries to liven things up, he lapses into hyperbole (e.g. writing of Dillon, “From the opening gong, it was clear to every opponent, regardless of size or skill, that they were destined for destruction . . . When he looked up [toward the heavyweight division], there wasn’t a heavyweight alive who didn’t fear for his life.”)

I also had the feeling that, to prove the case for Dillon’s greatness, Baker massages the facts a bit. For example, lobbying for the idea that Dillon was deserving of a shot at heavyweight champion Jess Willard, Baker argues that several fighters had beaten much larger men to claim the heavyweight crown. He then cites James Corbett’s victory over John L. Sullivan (a supposed 35-pound weight differential), Bob Fitzsimmons’s triumph over Corbett (26 pounds), and Tommy Burns over Marvin Hart (45 pounds).

The problem is, those numbers are suspect. Adam Pollack (a leading authority on boxing’s early gloved champions) says that there were no official weigh-ins for heavyweight fights way back when. Weights were sometimes announced by a fighter’s camp in the lead-in to a fight or otherwise shared with the public. But the numbers were often inaccurate.

Both The Ring Record Book and Pollack’s research point to far smaller weight differentials than the numbers put forth by Baker. That’s important because it goes to the issue of scholarship. And yes; when Jack Dempsey brutalized Jess Willard, he was outweighed by at least fifty pounds. But Jack Dillon was no Jack Dempsey.

Still, even with its flaws, Jack Dillon performs a service in that it brings attention to a forgotten fighter and puts a great deal of information at the fingertips of readers who want to know more about “Jack the Giant Killer.”

* **

Jody Heaps spent three decades as a senior creative director and executive producer for boxing-related projects at Showtime. In recent years, he has redirected his attention to projects of his own. His two most recent efforts are worthy of mention.

One Night in the Many Deaths of Sonny Liston is a 40-minute play that imagines the last night of Liston’s life in December 1970 and his death at the hands of a “statuesque, provocatively-dressed, Las Vegas showgirl in her late-twenties” who visits his home unannounced with a “gift” from Sonny’s mob associates – a small packet of adulterated heroin that by design will kill him.

The writing flows exceptionally well. The play humanizes Liston in a credible way. And the tension builds nicely. But the narrative strains credibility with the plot twist that Liston accepts his death as inevitable and shoots up knowing that the heroin will kill him.

More recently, Heaps has written, directed, and co-produced a ten-minute play titled A Mop of Angels that can be seen in its entirety on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hImmcG2pivM

Rich O’Brien is wonderful in the role of Spencer Olrich (an aging actor who has been replaced as the star of a successful action-movie franchise) and is now reading a play for minimal pay in a ninety-nine-seat black box theater in the middle of nowhere.

Or is that really who Olrich is?

Two themes – aging and the magic of theatre – are intertwined throughout the narrative. Olrich’s thoughts include:

* “Old age is the most surprising event in a man’s life. And the cruelest. I thought that getting old would take a whole lot longer than it did. And the worst part, you never see it coming until it’s too late.”

* “Nobody knows what happens after we exit this mortal coil. And nobody’s in any hurry to find out. But that fear of the unknown; that’s not the scariest part. You know what is? Being forgotten. You may die when your heart stops beating. But you cease to exist when nobody remembers your name.”

* “This school board contends that theater is a luxury. And you’re right. Theater doesn’t stop wars or end famines or cure deadly diseases. Yet a life without theater would be no life at all. For theater is where we celebrate the joy of our humanity and mourn the pain of our existence; where we pretend to be others only to discover ourselves. To you school board members in your suits and your ties, theater may be a luxury. But for those of us who dream, theater is no more of a luxury than wings are to an angel.”

Theatrical writing is an often-thankless endeavor. But Heaps loves doing it and says, “I’ve gotten better as I keep plugging away at it. At least, I hope I have.”

Does Jody miss boxing?

“Not at all,” he answers. “I always had mixed feelings about boxing. I still enjoy conversations about it from time to time. But do I follow it? No.”

* **

If you’ve been to one final pre-fight press conference, you’ve been to all of them. That’s a slight exaggeration. But the comments do tend to be predictable. Herewith, an example of what you’ll hear from the promoter and main event fighters.

The promoter will speak longer than all of the fighters on the card combined. His opening remarks will be along the lines of:

“I’d like to thank [name of site] for hosting this great event. There’s a saying in boxing that you haven’t fought until you’ve fought at [repeat name of site]. I’d also like to give a shout out to [names of sponsors]. And most importantly, thank you to [insert name of entity or individual funding the fight card]. We have a massive stacked event on tap. This might be the best fight card in the history of [repeat name of site]. [Name of main event A-side fighter] is the fastest-rising star in boxing today. But he’ll be facing a huge challenge when he looks across the ring on [insert date] and sees [name of B-side opponent] standing across from him.”

Toward the end of the proceedings after almost everyone in attendance has lost interest, the B-side fighter in the main event will speak:

“What’s up, everybody. I’d like to thank [name of promoter], [name of network],[my whole team], and God. I had a great training camp. Fighting [name of opponent] at [name of site] is an opportunity I’ve been waiting for my whole life. I’ve been through some things that wasn’t all my fault. But this is a dream come true. It means everything to me. From the time I was a little boy, I dreamed of seeing my face on posters. Not in the post office like my uncle was, but for a fight like this. I’m in the best career of my shape. Or whatever. You know what I mean. I’m looking forward to putting on a show and winning this fight for my fans. [Name of opponent] is a good fighter. I take my hat off to him. But I’m going to shock the world on Saturday night.”

And last, a word from the main event A-side fighter:

“I got nothing to say today. I’m tired of being disrespected by [names of offending entities]. I don’t listen to what people say about me. But what they say about me really pisses me off. You can all suck my [body part of choice].”

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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Avila Perspective Chap 320: Boots Ennis and Stanionis

Published

3 days ago

April 11, 2025

David A. Avila

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Jaron “Boots Ennis and Eimantis Stanionus are in the wrong era.

If they had fought in the late 70s and early 80s the boxing world would have seen them regularly on televised fight cards.

Instead, with the world’s attention span diluted by thousands of available programming, this richly talented pair of undefeated welterweights Ennis (33-0, 29 Kos) and Stanionis (15-0, 9 Kos) will battle in the smaller confines of Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City on Saturday April 12.

Thankfully, DAZN will stream the WBA and IBF welterweight world title fight on the Matchroom Boxing card.

If not for DAZN these two elite fighters and the sport of pro boxing might be completely invisible to the sports entertainment world.

These welterweights are special.

Ennis, a lean whip-quick fighter out of Philadelphia, stylistically reminds me of a Tommy Hearns but not as tall or long-armed as the Detroit fighter of the past.

“Win on Saturday and I’m the WBA, IBF and Ring Magazine champion, and then we’ll see what’s next. But I am zoned in on Stanionis,” said Ennis the IBF titlist.

Lithuania’s Stanionis and his pressure style liken to a Marvelous Marvin Hagler who would walk through fire to reach striking distance of a foes chin or abdomen.

“Ennis is slick, explosive, and they say he’s the future of the division. That’s why I signed the contract. I don’t duck anyone—I run toward the fire,” Stanionis said.

When Hagler and Hearns met in Las Vegas on April 1985, their reputations had been built on television with millions watching against common foes like Roberto Duran and Juan Roldan. Both had different styles just like Stanionis and Ennis and both could punch.

One difference was their ability to take a punch.

Hagler had a chin of steel, Hearns did not.

When Ennis and Stanionis meet in the boxing ring this Saturday, each is facing the most dangerous fighter of his career. Whose chin will hold up is the true question?

“This isn’t gonna be a chess match. This is going to be a war,” said Stanionis who holds the WBA title. “I’m stepping into that ring to test him, break him, and beat him. Let’s see how he handles real pressure.”

Ennis just wants to win.

“I’m at the point right now where I don’t care what people say,” said Ennis. “I’m here to do one thing and that’s put hands on you, that’s it.”

Golden Boy in Oceanside, CA

Next week budding star Charles Conway (21-0, 16 Kos) meets Mexico’s Jorge Garcia Perez (32-4, 26 Kos) in the semi-main event at Frontwave Arena in Oceanside, California on Saturday April 19.

The two super welterweights are both ranked in the top 10 and the winner moves up to the elite level of the very stacked super welterweight division.

Conwell, who trains in Cleveland, Ohio, has been one of boxing’s best kept secrets and someone few champions and contenders want to face. Take my word for it, this kid can fight.

On the main event is undisputed female flyweight world champion Gabriela Fundora (15-0, 7 Kos) defending all her titles against Mexico’s Marilyn Badillo (19-0-1, 3 Kos).

Fundora is quickly becoming the most feared champion in boxing.

360 Promotions

Super welter prospect Sadridden Akhmedov (15-0, 13 Kos) meets Elias Espadas (23-6, 16 Kos) in the main event on Saturday April 19, at the Commerce Casino in Commerce, Calif. The 360 Promotions event will be streamed on UFC Fight Pass.

Also, Roxy Verduzco (3-0) meets Jessica Radtke (1-1-1) in a six rounds featherweight battle.

Fights to Watch

Sat. DAZN 5 p.m. Jarron Ennis (33-0) vs Eamantis Stanionis (15-0).

Photo credit: Mark Robinson

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