All posts by Mike Silver

A Double Tragedy: Two Boxing Fatalities on the Same Fight Card

October 22, 2025Boxing ArticlesBoxing DeathsMike Silver

What Went Wrong—And How to Fix It
By Mike Silver 10/22/2025

(Note: Some of the material in this article is excerpted from Mike Silver’s new book, When in Doubt, Stop the Bout: A Revolutionary Approach to Boxing Safety and Reform).

Never in the entire 133-year history of modern gloved boxing, have two fighters on the same card died from brain injuries sustained in separate bouts. Yet that unprecedented milestone was reached on August 2, 2025, in Tokyo, just nine weeks after another Japanese fighter collapsed into a coma after a bout in Osaka.

Yes, boxing is a dangerous sport but what happened in Japan was not unavoidable. These tragedies were the foreseeable result of negligence, incompetence, and corruption—resulting in a form of legalized manslaughter.

The Warning Sign: Ginjiro Shigeoka

The chain of events leading to the Tokyo double fatality began months earlier. On May 24 in Osaka, former IBF light flyweight champion Ginjiro Shigeoka (11-1) lost a punishing 12-round decision to Pedro Tadura (17-4-1). Video of the fight shows Shigeoka absorbing a sustained head beating, especially in the final three rounds. Moments after the bell, he collapsed. Surgeons removed a subdural hematoma from the right side of his brain. He remains in a coma.

That fight should never have taken place. Ten months earlier, Tadura had taken the title from Shigeoka in a savage ninth-round stoppage. Twice the referee nearly halted it before finally stepping in. Shigeoka collapsed unconscious in his corner and required surgery for a fractured orbital bone. He had suffered a severe concussion.

The Japanese boxing commission should not have allowed him back into the ring for another fight against the same opponent. Considering the crude style and limited experience of both fighters, a repeat of their first slugfest was inevitable. The rematch would almost certainly guarantee another head beating for the doomed fighter. Which is exactly what happened. The only difference between the first and second fight was this fight went the full 12 rounds. It is a medical fact that a brain rendered fragile by a previous concussion is more vulnerable to catastrophic damage from a second concussion.

Shigeoka was cleared by the boxing commission to fight, but he was “damaged goods”—an accident waiting to happen. His best chance for survival would have been for the commission to limit the scheduled distance to not more than eight rounds—a distance more suitable to his limited experience and defenseless style of fighting.

The boxing commission’s failure to protect its fighters is not unique to Japan—it is an international problem, repeated too many times with too many fatal consequences.

Fight One

On August 2, super featherweight champion Yamato Hata (17-2) defended his Oriental and Pacific Boxing Federation title against Shigetishi Kotari (8-2-1). Both men weighed 130 pounds.

Shigetoshi Kotari (right) trading punches with Yamato Hata.

Kotari had just 11 professional bouts. In an earlier era, he would have been a six-round preliminary fighter—not a title challenger. Yet today’s alphabet soup of sanctioning bodies routinely crowns champions with 10 to 15 fights, giving promoters a belt to market and fighters a dangerous distance to endure.

Kotari fought evenly for eight rounds, but fatigue and punishment mounted. Judges’ scorecards reflected the shift—he lost nearly every round from the ninth through twelfth. The heaviest damage came in those “championship rounds.” He collapsed in the dressing room, underwent brain surgery, and died a week later.

Had the fight been capped at eight rounds, Kotari would have likely survived.

Fight Two: A Rock ’Em, Sock ’Em Slugfest

The same card’s preliminary bout was just as deadly. Lightweights Yoji Saito (8-4-2) and Hiromasa Urakawa (10-3) fought toe-to-toe for eight brutal rounds, trading nonstop headshots like mindless robots. Defensive skills were virtually absent, including very little body punching, no footwork, and no slipping or parrying of punches. The strategy (or lack thereof) was basically “you hit me, now it’s my turn to hit you”.

Both men took an inordinate amount of punishment, absorbing hundreds of blows to the head. But no doctor entered the ring between rounds to examine the fighters.

In the closing seconds, Urakawa was knocked out and became unconscious. Despite emergency brain surgery, the 28-year-old never regained consciousness. Once again, too many scheduled rounds killed a fighter. Had it been a four, or five-rounder, Urakawa would almost certainly be alive.

Systemic Failures

These tragedies are not isolated—they stem from the following systemic failures:

1. Too Many Rounds for Too Little Experience

Statistics compiled from the Manuel Velazquez Boxing Fatality Collection show bouts longer than five rounds increase fatality risk by 70 percent. The fifth round should be considered an important demarcation. Also, a third of all deaths since 2000 occurred in the final scheduled round. Yet inexperienced fighters are constantly thrust into 10- and 12-round “title” fights for the sake of marketing and to provide the nefarious “sanctioning organizations” with thousands of dollars in fees taken from the fighter’s earnings for the “privilege” of fighting for the organization’s title belt.

2. Collapse of Standards and Skills

From the 1920s through the 1970s, fighters averaged 50–70 pro bouts before a title shot. Today’s champions often have fewer than 20. The problem is compounded by a lack of qualified trainers capable of teaching the finer points of boxing technique. With most of today’s pro fighters averaging only two to four fights a year, most never get the opportunity to develop and craft an effective defense on their own. Instead, fight after fight (and presumably when sparring in the gym) they engage in artless brawls devoid of strategy or adjustment. Every round looks exactly like the one that preceded it.

3. The Dehydration Madness

His swollen and battered face a testament to the beating he received, ill fated Shigetoshi Kotari leaves the ring after losing a 12 round decision. He collapsed in the dressing room shortly after this photo was taken.

Since weigh-ins moved to 24–36 hours before fights, too many boxers starve and dehydrate themselves to make weight, then binge to rehydrate. But the brain can’t rehydrate in a day. Dehydration reduces cerebrospinal fluid, the brain’s cushion against trauma, increasing the risk of catastrophic injury. In addition, a dehydrated fighter cannot perform with the same quickness and precision and will tire in the later rounds, making it more difficult to avoid punches. It is not clear whether weight cutting was a factor in the bouts mentioned in this article.

Legendary referee Mills Lane once made this observation: “Have you ever heard of a heavyweight dying of a subdural hematoma? I haven’t. It’s always the little guys—the featherweights and lightweights—because their handlers dry them out, starve them, then pump them full of water and food. What they’re really doing is setting that fighter up for injury.”

Statistics back up Mill’s observation. A study published in the January 2022 issue of Combat Sports Medicine, published by the Association of Ringside Physicians, found that sixty-two (75 percent) of eighty-three fighters fatally injured between 2000 and 2019 weighed between 108 and 135 pounds. According to BoxRec.com, 43 percent of all known professional bouts at that time involved fighters in the lightweight class (135 pounds) or lower.

The study offered no explanation for the disproportionally higher number of deaths in the lighter weight divisions, but it is possible that fighters weighing between 108 and 135 pounds average more punches per round than their heavier counterparts, resulting in more sustained and repetitive head punishment. The punches of lighter-weight fighters may not look as heavy or powerful as a middleweight’s or heavyweight’s, but they may be doing more damage because of their number.

It is also important to consider the fact that boxers in lighter weight classes (108 to 135 pounds) generally cut a higher percentage of their total body weight than those in heavier divisions, such as middleweight and light heavyweight. While fighters across all weight classes may aim to cut a similar number of total pounds, that amount represents a larger percentage of body mass for smaller fighters.

Reform Is Possible—If There’s Will

To reduce deaths and brain trauma, boxing must adopt the following reforms now:

Eliminate 12-round fights. Restrict most matches to 4–6 rounds. Reserve 8–10 only for elite, well-matched fighters.
Restore same-day weigh-ins. Fighters must weigh in within 10 hours of fighting to end the dehydration cycle and be encouraged to fight at their natural weight.
Suspend defenseless fighters. Boxers who consistently absorb excessive head shots, win or lose, should be barred until demonstrating improved defense.
Improve education and oversight. Referees must be trained to recognize concussion and have greater confidence in knowing when to stop a fight. Every ringside doctor must also receive adequate neurological training and not hesitate to examine one or both fighters after a particularly punishing round.
Limit the authority of the sanctioning organizations. Commissions must stop ceding authority to alphabet groups that invent titles and sanction mismatches for profit. What must end is the proliferation of fake “titles” that lure inexperienced fighters into dangerous 10- and 12-round bouts.

The Historical Perspective

From the early 1900s to the 1960s, fighters like Kotari or Urakawa would have been considered promising prospects with much to learn. No competent manager or responsible boxing commission during that era would have agreed to a 10- or 12-rounder after just a handful of bouts. The proliferation of fabricated “world titles” has dangerously distorted matchmaking today, with often fatal consequences.

The evidence is overwhelming: shorter fights save lives. The Association of Ringside Physicians has confirmed it. The Velazquez Collection confirms it. The history of the sport confirms it.

The Real Enemy

Boxing did not kill these men. Greed, negligence and incompetence did. The usual suspects are easy to identify. They include noxious sanctioning bodies that continually invent new titles to generate additional fees; promoters eager to sell them; incompetent referees and doctors who are slow to act; negligent boxing commissions incapable of enforcing effective safety measures.

All the above created the circumstances that made these deaths inevitable. New reforms and stricter rules, including reducing the number of rounds, will not eliminate all risk—but they can dramatically reduce deaths and brain trauma.

The alternative is more of the same: more funerals, more shattered families, more empty words about “warriors who died doing what they loved.”

Enough is enough.

End

Mike Silver’s new book, When in Doubt, Stop the Bout: A Revolutionary Approach to Boxing Safety and Reform should be mandatory reading for everyone who cares about boxing and the fighters who put themselves at risk.

Boxing and Ballet: My Interview with international Ballet Star (and former amateur boxing champion) Edward Villella

October 22, 2024Boxing Interviews, UncategorizedBoxing BalletMike Silver

Mike Silver

“Boxing’s appeal is its drama and grace, a blizzarding grace that amounts to an impromptu, exigent ballet, especially in the lighter and nimbler weights. Hands, arms, feet, legs, head, torso—more is done per moment than in fast ice hockey; and since there is more motion, the athletes in other sports cannot surpass a consummate boxer for grace.”

–Edward Hoagland

‘I’m not a fighter, I’m an artist. Boxing should be beautiful. . . . It should be like ballet dancing.’

Alexis Arguello

International ballet star Edward Villella hitting the heavy bag. Villella possessed the perfect physique for a dancer—or boxer.

Edward Villella began taking ballet lessons at the age of ten. He was an outstanding all-around athlete who also enjoyed boxing. In the mid-1950s he became the welterweight boxing champion of New York’s Maritime College and was undefeated in 20 fights. Several boxing managers expressed interest in signing him to a professional contract, but his love for dance was greater than it was for boxing. Edward Villella eventually gained international fame as one of the world’s premier ballet dancers. He became the lead dancer for the New York City Ballet under the direction of the legendary George Balanchine. Villella has won numerous awards including an Emmy, the National Medal of Arts and Kennedy Center Honors. He is the only American ever asked to dance an encore at the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow. In 1985 he was named founding artistic director of the acclaimed Miami City Ballet and served in that role until 2012.

In 2005 Edward Villella agreed to be interviewed for my first book The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science” (McFarland & Company Publishers). I wanted to ask this great artist how boxing compared to ballet since he had experienced and trained in both disciplines. The following is an excerpt from the book:

Mike: I think you will agree that a properly trained boxer is built more along the lines of a buff ballet dancer like yourself rather than a tightly knotted bodybuilder or beefed up football lineman. I have been critical of a recent trend in boxing that emphasizes weight training for boxers similar to how professional football athletes use weights in order to increase poundage and add extra muscle to their physiques. I’d like to read you a quote from an old school trainer who disdained the use of weight training for his boxers: “Old time fighters had a sleek shape. They were not carrying extra weight through muscle. Fighters in the 1920s through the 1950s, heavyweights included, were trimmed down. They had long smooth muscles. There was no need to oxygenate big muscles.” Have you ever recommended weight training for your dancers?

“Boxers and dancers are finely tuned instruments. Lifting weights would not be good for them. It’s like putting sand in the gas tank of a Ferrari.”

Edward: I have never asked my dancers to do weight training. As dancers, we have long use of the muscle tone. We don’t want to short the muscle tone. We want speed and elasticity. I don’t think that you have to dismiss all weight training. You can exercise with four or five pounds, and you’d be surprised what that will do for you. When I was a dancer I’d occasionally put a one or two pound weight on either ankle. And then when I took them off my speed was just terrific, and my feet moved so quickly. And that’s what we need to do; we need our feet to move. Our feet are like a fighter’s hands. My great mentor George Balanchine said, ‘the floor upon which we dance is the music’, which is the timing…it’s the phrasing. The dancer does not stay in one rhythm. You have to move in and out, in and out, up and down, slow, fast, set it up, go, go, go.

Mike: That is very similar to how a boxing match develops. Why do you think so many of the new breed of boxing trainers are bringing in “strength coaches” from other sports and are having the fighters lift weights far exceeding four or five pounds in the belief the added muscle will increase the fighter’s punching power?

Villella, like all professional ballet dancers, was a superbly conditioned athlete.

Edward: Without a comprehensive understanding of your muscle tone and the purpose of exactly what it is that you want to accomplish with a weight training routine you could end up training against yourself. You don’t want the training to go against your talent. That is the thing you cannot do. You have to understand your talent and know how to feed it. And that is why I don’t want our guys to do that kind of thing. Guys are normally thicker muscle toned than women and I don’t want them to bulk up because they will lose that agility. Boxers and dancers are finely tuned instruments. Lifting weights would not be good for them. It’s like putting sand in the gas tank of a Ferrari.

Mike: I agree. A properly conditioned boxer, or a professional dancer, is a fine-tuned instrument. Interfering with the machinery of that instrument by bulking up and losing agility is to be avoided.

Edward: What we seek is to eliminate tension. If you train against that purpose it’s not going to work for you. For instance, if I were preparing our dancers for a style that requires very quick and light footwork their training would be different than what is needed to dance in the much slower 19^th century Russian Grand Imperial style. There is heaviness to that style. The moves have a beginning and an end, and then you start all over again. Whereas in neoclassicism, which George Balanchine provides us with, the moment your heel got to the floor that was your propulsion for the next step, therefore the continuity of it had terrific natural connection. So you didn’t ‘stop, gesture, stop, gesture’. It’s like when you watch a heavyweight. They wind up and throw a big punch but they have no combinations. These guys are huge and they have four yards of left jab but it’s just hanging on ‘em. They can’t go low, high, down. They can’t get that jab working. Pump that jab. Work those combinations…boom, boom, boom (demonstrates by shadowboxing and throwing combinations). I relate to that kind of attack and speed.

Mike: That is an interesting analogy.

Edward: There is a whole connection about the approach to any physical gesture that we are about. It’s all totally connected and if you can be relentless in the way you approach these rotations, so that they are there and available for you any given second, you begin to dance instead of just doing a trick. And for me that is what differentiates fine dancing and fine fighting. It’s not enough that you’ve got a heavy right hand and a neat left hook and you throw two punches. There is more to it than that.

Mike: I wasn’t aware there were so many different styles of ballet.

Edward: My dancers have a repertoire where we have to dance in probably five, six, seven different styles, seven different periods, seven different choreographic approaches. They have the variety and they have the broader horizon. That was the beauty of my growing up at the New York City Ballet, which had a phenomenal repertoire. I danced everything from Swan Lake to Tarantellas. You can’t get further away from being Oberon in Mid Summer’s Night’s Dream to being the Prodigal Son, or Apollo. So unless you can counter and balance off all of these other things you become a one trick pony.

Mike: Unfortunately, there are too many “one trick ponies” in boxing today who continue to follow the same pattern round after round without knowing how to make the necessary adjustments due to a lack of experience and quality instruction.

Edward: Dancing, as George Balanchine said, is a conversation; I offer a hand, somebody gives me their hand. Do I hold the hand, or do I just use what is necessary? For instance, if we are having a conversation I’m not going to shout at you the whole time. Nor am I going to talk like this (speaks haltingly). So you have to have all of those ups and downs, sideways, expansions, extensions, all of this kind of flexibility that constitutes the purpose that you are about.

Mike: It sounds like you are referring to athletic intelligence which every great boxer must possess. I assume that is also true for a great dancer?

“You need dance intellect just as you need boxing intellect if you are going to reach your potential. You need the intelligence that relates to your talent. And if you can combine that talent and that intelligence you are so far ahead of the game.”

Edward: It’s really your mind driving your talent. So you need the talent and you need the mind that comes with the talent. It’s not like you’re trying to be a brain surgeon, but you need dance intellect just as you need boxing intellect if you are going to reach your potential. You need the intelligence that relates to your talent. And if you can combine that talent and that intelligence you are so far ahead of the game. So it becomes this mental exercise. I’m fond of saying our physicality is ‘mind driven’. It’s not just the talent. It is the mind analyzing the talent, and all of the nuances that are available can be used.

Mike: Both boxers and ballet dancers share fundamental requirements that include balance, coordination, rhythmic and fluid movement and precise timing. The most graceful boxer I have ever seen is Sugar Ray Robinson. At his best he possessed an almost ballet like grace and is generally acknowledged to be the greatest boxer of the 20^th century. In fact, after his first retirement, Sugar Ray Robinson had a brief career as a professional dancer and he was pretty good at it.

“Dancing, like boxing, is moving through balance…My favorite boxers are the ones who move and are beautiful to watch. The way Sugar Ray Robinson executed his combinations…the speed and accuracy…the timing aspect of it.”

Edward: Dancing, like boxing, is moving through balance. And the athlete that you remember is the beautiful dancing athlete. I once took a bunch of athletes and intercut them with dancers and made it into a whole one-hour show. It was called “Dance of the Athletes”. Joe DiMaggio covering center field. His swing when he was at bat. Ted Williams, Stan Musial, Frank Robinson. These, to me, were the athletes who were the dancers. My favorite boxers are the ones who move and are beautiful to watch. The way Sugar Ray Robinson executed his combinations…the speed and accuracy…the timing aspect of it…the way a good defensive fighter could stand in front of somebody and bob and weave and pull their chin back, maybe just a quarter of an inch, and the punch would miss them. To me, that is absolute talent, which is so practiced, so rehearsed, so completely understood it becomes a conditioned reflex.”

Mike: You mentioned growing up in New York City in the 1940s and 1950s and that you were a fight fan. Do you still keep up with the sport?

The perfectly balanced Sugar Ray Robinson jabs Tommy Bell with ballet like grace during their 1946 title bout.

Edward: Unfortunately, with my schedule, I rarely get to watch the fights today, and I can’t follow them. There was a fight on the other night, but it was all one sided. Let’s face it; a lot of the matches today are awful. They’re mostly mismatches, and it’s all setting up for the big payday, and to me that’s not what it’s all about.

Mike: What are your earliest memories of boxing when you were growing up?

Edward: My father ran a trucking business in the garment center and his two closest buddies were former professional fighters. And they used to have poker games every Friday night and in the middle of the poker games the Friday Night Fights came on. Everybody stopped to watch the fights on TV and when it was over they went back to the poker game. I remember seeing great fighters like Willie Pep and Sandy Saddler, Tony Zale, Rocky Marciano, Carmen Basilio, Kid Gavilan and his ‘bolo punch’. I can’t even think of all the names now.

Mike: Did all the years you had ballet training give you an advantage when you boxed.

“When I was an amateur boxer in college I had a tremendous advantage because I had trained as a ballet dancer for about seven years. Therefore, my legs were mine. They were in terrific condition for boxing.”

Edward: When I was an amateur boxer in college I had a tremendous advantage because I had trained as a ballet dancer for about seven years. Therefore, my legs were mine. They were in terrific condition for boxing. I’d wait until the third round and by then my opponent would be standing on spaghetti legs (laughs).

Edward Villella and Mike Silver meet after a performance by the Miami City Ballet at the Tilles Center in Long Island in 2008.

Addendum:

The best “dancer” among today’s top fighters is the current 135 pound champion Vasyl Lomachenko. He is a throwback to an era when mobile footwork was taught and emphasized as an essential element for offense and defense. Lomachenko and Villella have something else in common. Ironically, Loma’s father wisely insisted that his young son take ballet lessons for several years with a Ukranian dance company before being allowed to box. That experience gave the youth a “leg up” on the competition, so to speak. Loma’s amateur record was spectacular. He lost only one of 397 amateur fights and won consecutive gold medals in the 2008 and 2012 Olympics. He has also held multiple professional world championships from featherweight to lightweight. Perhaps all aspiring professional boxers should consider donning ballet slippers and start practicing pirouettes before learning how to jab and hook.

Mike Silver’s newest book, When in Doubt, Stop the Bout: A Revolutionary Approach to Boxing Safety and Reform(Hamilcar Publications) will be available in December 2024. Mike’s previous books include The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science; Stars in the Ring: Jewish Champions in the Golden Age of Boxing; The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments From the World of Boxing.

“BELTS? WE DON’T NEED NO STINKIN’ BELTS!” A MESSAGE TO ERROL SPENCE JR. AND TERENCE CRAWFORD: TOSS THE BELTS AND KEEP THE MONEY

July 7, 2023Boxing ArticlesMike Silver

MIKE SILVER

Six weeks ago at the press conference announcing the highly anticipated July 29th welterweight title fight between Errol Spence Jr. and Terence Crawford something remarkable happened. Errol Spence boldly called out the four sanctioning bodies (WBC, WBA, IBF and WBO) for the huge fees they charge to every boxer who fights for one of their title belts. “We got to know where this money is going to”, said Spence. “How is it helping the fighters out? What are they doing with it?”

Highway Robbery

Spence had good reason to ask. According to ESPN both he and Crawford are guaranteed a minimum of 10 million dollars apiece for their Showtime pay-per-view unification fight. Since all four organizations’ title belts will be on the line Spence and Crawford are supposed to give up 3 percent of their purse to each group as a “sanctioning fee”. That amounts to a total 12 per cent of 20 million dollars ($2,400,000) to be split four ways by the sanctioning groups. At the very least each boxer will have to pay $1,200,000 to these groups for the privilege of fighting for the belts. (If pay-per-view sales are strong the amount will be even higher).That is an obscene price to pay for the right to be recognized as champion by these self-appointed quasi-official ratings organizations.

Scam Artists

By the early 2000s the Mexico City based World Boxing Council (WBC) had already collected over $20 million in sanctioning fees from boxers’ purses, with an estimated ninety per cent of the money generated in the Unites States. The main source of income for the WBC, WBA, IBF and WBO (aka “the alphabet gangs”) are the aforementioned sanctioning fees. Each organization takes 3 per cent of the champion and challenger’s purse for every title fight they certify. The increase in the number of weight divisions in the 1980s from ten to 17 is directly tied to the desire of all four organizations wanting to collect additional fees while giving back to the sport nothing of value. It was a matter of simple economics– more weight divisions meant more title fights and thus more fees. But it still wasn’t enough for these greedy hustlers. Adding yet more weight divisions would be too hard a sell, so they decided on a clever innovation. The sanctioning organizations invented additional titles within each of the 17 weight categories with names like “International”, “Global”, “Interim”, “Super”, “Super, Super”, “Regular”, “Green”, “Diamond”, “Gold”, “Silver”, “Youth”, “Francophone”, “Champion in Recess”, “Franchise”. As a result, there are nearly 200 of these fabricated titles currently crowding professional boxing’s schizoid landscape. Most of these “champions” are unknown to even the most avid boxing fans. But that is of no concern to the alphabet gangs. What is important to them is that every boxing match broadcast by cable TV or a streaming internet service is for some kind of cockamamie title that requires both challenger and champion to cough up the 3 per cent sanctioning fee. With the rush to crown so many champions the fights often involve novice professionals with fewer than a dozen fights.

New titles pop up every year, so it’s safe to say the only people keeping track of all the belts (and fees) are the organizations’ bookkeepers. The WBA alone has 45 “champions” across 17 weight divisions. As soon as a title fight ends a representative of the sanctioning organization enters the ring to present the winner with an oversized leather and metal belt.

In his outstanding book, Boxing Confidential, author Jim Brady put the current title situation in historical perspective: “In the 1950s, there were approximately 5000 fighters worldwide. There were generally eight weight divisions, with one champion in each. That breaks down to one champ every 625 boxers. Today, with just the major sanctioning bodies and not counting the whackos, you have about one ‘world champion’ for every sixty-nine pros. It’s ridiculous.” No other major sport, with the exception of professional wrestling, would put up with the absurdity.

So, in the words of Errol Spence, “Where is the money going to? How is it helping the fighters out? What are they doing with it?” In his blog post of June 22^nd, the Editor of England’s respected Boxing News, Matt Christie, wrote, “It clearly isn’t being used to pay honest and knowledgeable people to compile rankings, it’s not adding to a pension pot for boxers, it’s not being spent on the carrying out of background checks on the criminals they do business with, nor is a penny going to charities like Ringside Charitable Trust.”

With no one to rein them in the alphabet gangs find it easy to make up their own rules and then break them when it suits their purposes. They manipulate their ratings of contenders to accommodate the needs of a few powerful promoters ahead of the welfare of boxers and the sport. Even casual fans know their monthly ratings are not to be trusted. Champions recognized by one sanctioning organization are not even rated in the top ten contender lists of a rival group. Under the table payments and secret deals between promoters and sanctioning organizations can get a less than mediocre fighter rated among the top contenders in his weight division. In order to provide a popular alphabet champion with a safe title defense the boxer’s promoter can arrange to have an inferior opponent rated to justify the mismatch. If boxing had a national commissioner similar to other professional sports the sanctioning organizations would have been thrown out years ago.

A Rare Opportunity

Errol Spence Jr. and Terence Crawford have a rare opportunity to actually do something that could help their sport and all fighters who are forced to give up a large chunk of their earnings to these thieves. All it would take is for Crawford and Spence to refuse to pay any sanctioning fees to the WBC, WBA, IBF and WBO. There is no logical reason why they should have to pay. With or without the belts would any fight fight fan on the planet doubt that the winner of Spence vs. Crawford is the best welterweight in the world? The new champion, whoever it will be, does not need a belt to prove it. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if their refusal to pay sanctioning fees encouraged other high profile boxers to do the same? Every boxer would benefit and so would the sport. It’s a long shot, but maybe this can be the start of a movement that will eventually drive the alphabet gangs out of the sport. Denying them fees would eliminate their raison d être and like rats deserting a sinking ship they would quickly disappear.

If both Spence and Crawford refuse to pay fees, the sanctioning organizations, according to their rules, will strip them of the belts and declare the titles vacant. If past history is any guide all four groups will then seek to crown their own welterweight champion and return to doing business as usual.

The People’s Champion

But what will we call the winner of the Spence vs. Crawford showdown if the new champion walks out of the ring without the four alphabet belts. Since he will no longer be a standard bearer for the WBC, WBA, IBF and WBO, why not call him “The People’s Champion”. That title—“People’s Champion”—should only be reserved for the fighter who has proven to be the best in his weight class by beating the best. It would have nothing to do with holding 2, 3, 4 or more alphabet belts. The belts should be considered meaningless unless the fighter has earned the title of “People’s Champion” by meeting and defeating the best competition. The fans’ acknowledgement is all that is needed. That was the way it used to be from the early 1900s to the 1970s.

When Jack Dempsey knocked out Jess Willard to win the heavyweight championship in 1919 there were no sanctioning organizations and no belts or fees. In fact, of the hundreds of photos I have seen of the legendary “Manassa Mauler” I have yet to come across one showing him wearing a championship belt. The public recognized Dempsey as a legitimate world champion because he beat the man that beat the man. The approbation of a “sanctioning organization” was unnecessary, and it was the same for every heavyweight champion that followed him for the next 60 years. So, to paraphrase the famous “badges” line from the classic 1948 film, Treasure of the Sierra Madre, both Spence and Crawford should tell the alphabet bandits—“We don’t need your stinkin’ belts!”

When the undefeated heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali was stripped of his title for refusing to be drafted into the army in 1967 he declared himself “The People’s Champion” and until defeated by Joe Frazier the people agreed with him. When great fighters such as Sonny Liston, Harold Johnson, Emile Griffith, Carlos Ortiz and Eder Jofre won their respective titles in the early 1960s there was no WBC or WBA. The only sanctioning organization that existed in the U.S. was the old National Boxing Association which began in 1921 and eventually grew to represent a loose confederation of 43 member states. Over the next 40 plus years it was staffed by a small group of unpaid but knowledgeable volunteers that recognized champions and rated the top ten fighters for each of boxing’s eight traditional weight divisions. Some of the volunteers were employed by their state athletic commission; most of the others had full time jobs unrelated to boxing. What they all had in common was a love for the sport. They were not seeking to use boxing to line their pockets. The ratings of the NBA were considered reliable and they could not be bought. Unlike today’s sanctioning organizations, the NBA was independent of promoters and did not seek to influence who would referee or judge a title fight. Their only purpose was to add a measure of credibility and coherent structure to boxing, something that is sadly lacking today. Yes, there was a sanctioning fee imposed for NBA recognized title fights. It was a token one dollar. That’s right—one dollar! And it was paid by the promoter.

But, as noted earlier, things began to change in the late 1970s coinciding with renewed interest in televised boxing that took off a decade later. The National Boxing Association had since morphed into the World Boxing Association (WBA) and moved its headquarters from the U.S. to Panama where a new group took over. (Its current headquarters are in Venezuela). Executives at the CBS and ABC television networks, although satisfied with boxing’s high Nielsen ratings, were concerned about the sport’s less than stellar reputation and a recent scandal involving a corrupt Don King sponsored tournament. To defer blame for any future scandals they insisted on some type of official imprimatur when advertising title fights so they turned to the only “sanctioning organizations” available at the time—the WBA and a spinoff organization calling itself the World Boxing Council (WBC) with headquarters in Mexico. Don King and Bob Arum, the sports major promoters, each had contracts with most of the champions and contenders attractive to television. The competitors were quick to realize the importance TV was allocating to these mostly insignificant entities so they formed mutually beneficial partnerships with them (King with the WBC and Arum with the WBA). The rest is history. (For a complete explanation of how the alphabet gangs came to power see chapter 15 in Mike Silver’s book, “The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science (McFarland Publishers, 2008).

So I ask you, Terence Crawford and Errol Spence Jr., for the good of the sport you love and have devoted your life to, at this most important time in your respective boxing careers, toss your alphabet belts and refuse to pay the sanctioning fees. You will not only keep over two million dollars that no one should be entitled to take from you, but also strike the first significant blow that could mean the beginning of the end for the alphabet gangs. For too long they have robbed too many fighters while at the same time devaluing what it means to be a true “world champion”. Hopefully your action might encourage other high profile boxers to do the same. If some good comes out of it future generations of fighters will bless and honor you for your courage and commitment to doing what is right.

Mike Silver is a former inspector with the New York State Athletic Commission and author of three books on boxing: The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science; Stars in the Ring: Jewish Champions in the Golden Age of Boxing; The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments From the World of Boxing. All are available on Amazon.com.

Foul Play in Philly?

September 23, 2022Boxing ArticlesMike Silver

By Mike Silver

On September 23, 1952, in Philadelphia’s Municipal Stadium, Jersey Joe Walcott defended his heavyweight crown against challenger Rocky Marciano. During the seventh round of a thrilling fight a caustic substance got into Marciano’s eyes. He returned to his corner blinking and squinting. “There’s something in my eyes, they’re burning.” Freddie Brown, one of the best corner men in the business, sponged Rocky’s eyes with copious amounts of water, giving the challenger some relief. But the burning began again in the eighth round. At the bell Rocky returned to his corner in obvious distress, telling his trainer Charley Goldman, “My eyes are getting worse. Do something, I can’t see.” Goldman and Freddie Brown continued to douse his eyes. Al Weill, Marciano’s volatile manager, was beside himself. Leaving the corner he approached referee Charley Daggert and pleaded with him to investigate Walcott’s gloves and shoulders. The referee waived him back to the corner.

If there was something illegal going on in Walcott’s corner Weill’s complaining must have gotten someone’s attention because by the end of the 10th round Rocky’s eyes have cleared and his vision returned to normal.

After 12 brutal rounds Walcott was ahead in the scoring. Unless Rocky can win by a knockout he will lose the decision. Less than a minute into the 13th round Marciano connects with a devastating right cross to Walcott’s chin and one of the greatest heavyweight title fights of all time comes to a sudden and dramatic ending.

The kinescope of the closed circuit telecast lends credence to the belief that Walcott’s gloves were doctored.

Was there foul play in Philly? The kinescope of the closed circuit telecast lends credence to the belief that Walcott’s gloves were doctored. At the end of the sixth round the camera shifts to Walcott’s corner and if you watch closely you can see Felix Bocchiccio, Walcott’s manager, rubbing Walcott’s left and right gloves as if he is applying something. Was this just a nervous reaction? I think not. The action looks too deliberate. After the eighth round the camera again follows Walcott to his corner. As soon as he sits down we see Bocchiccio leaning through the ropes and he again rubs Walcott’s right glove for at least six seconds in a circular motion before the camera moves over to Rocky’s corner. (My personal kinescope copy clearly shows this but for some reason it has been cut from the version available on YouTube). Just before the bell rings to begin the ninth round the camera moves back to Walcott’s corner and we again see his manager quickly rub Walcott’s gloves and then wipe his hands on the fighter’s stomach and trunks, as if trying to remove something. This part is included on the current YouTube version. Could the substance just be Vaseline? It’s doubtful. There is no reason to apply Vaseline to a fighter’s gloves in the midst of a fight.

Rocky never believed Walcott was aware of anything illegal going on in his corner. “He was too wrapped up in the fight (to notice),”

Rocky Marciano always believed that Jersey Joe’s manager had rubbed a hot, irritant salve—perhaps a capsicum ointment—on Walcott’s gloves and upper body. Rocky had good reason to suspect foul play. Felix Bocchicchio had resurrected Jersey Joe’s career and put him on the road to the championship, but he was also a well-known gambler and an organized crime figure in Philadelphia and New Jersey with a rap sheet dating back to 1925. Rocky never believed Walcott was aware of anything illegal going on in his corner. “He was too wrapped up in the fight (to notice),” Marciano said. “He was too great a champ to go along with something like that. They wouldn’t tell him. But somebody did it, because I know what was happening to my eyes.” Peter Marciano, Rocky’s brother: “Rocky believed he was blinded intentionally until the day he died. He spoke of it often.” After he retired as undefeated champion Rocky accused Bocchicchio of rubbing the substance on Walcott’s gloves and upper body in a story published in the Saturday Evening Post in October 1956. Walcott’s manager sued for libel. A Pennsylvania jury believed the allegations and found in favor of the Post.

In Liston’s corner his principal seconds are two men whose home base just happens to be the City of Brotherly Love.

Now let’s jump ahead to February 25, 1964. The scene is the Miami Beach Auditorium. Cassius Clay, a 7 to 1 underdog, is about to challenge heavyweight champion Sonny Liston. It’s not Philadelphia, but it might as well be. In Liston’s corner his principal seconds are two men whose home base just happens to be the City of Brotherly Love: Joe Polino, a well-known trainer and corner man, and former heavyweight contender Willie Reddish, Sonny’s chief trainer.

As the fourth round came to a close it was apparent that the odds did not reflect what was taking place in the ring. The challenger appeared quite capable of pulling off a huge upset. But near the end of the round Clay looked pained and began to blink furiously. He returned to his corner in an agitated state. “Cut the gloves off!” screamed young Cassius whose eyes felt like they were burning up. A caustic substance of unknown origin had somehow gotten into Clay’s eyes just as he seemed to be taking charge of the fight. The very capable and experienced Angelo Dundee, Clay’s trainer and chief second, kept a cool head. He sponged the stricken fighter’s eyes in an attempt to wash away whatever was causing the problem. At the bell to begin the fifth round Clay was still complaining. “I can’t see. We’re going home.” “No way” answered Dundee. “Get in there and fight. If you can’t see, keep away from him until your eyes clear. This is the big one. Nobody walks away from the heavyweight championship.” Dundee shoved him out of the corner.

Even though he was fighting half blind Clay incredibly was able to survive the round despite Liston’s best efforts to render him unconscious. Swaying and shifting like an Indian rubber man Clay instinctively avoided most of Liston’s punches. It was an amazing display by an extraordinarily talented 22-year-old athlete.

In the following round, with his vision improved, Clay dominated Liston, landing dozens of unanswered punches. The exhausted and demoralized champion returned to his corner at the end of the sixth round a tired and beaten fighter. Claiming an injured shoulder he told his seconds he could not go on. Cassius Clay—soon to be renamed Muhammad Ali—became the 22nd heavyweight champion of the world.

There is strong reason to believe that someone in Liston’s corner tried the same illegal methods used in the Marciano-Walcott fight to influence the outcome…

Conclusion: There is strong reason to believe that someone in Liston’s corner tried the same illegal methods used in the Marciano-Walcott fight to influence the outcome by temporarily blinding Clay. When asked his opinion Angelo Dundee, ever the diplomat, said that a substance used to treat Liston’s cut under his eye must have accidentally gotten into Clay’s eyes. But couldn’t it have gotten into Liston’s eyes as well, and why would anyone choose to treat an eye cut with a caustic substance in the first place?

Eddie Machen told reporters, “The same thing happened to me when I fought Liston in 1960.

Two days after the fight heavyweight contender Eddie Machen told reporters, “The same thing happened to me when I fought Liston in 1960. I thought my eyes would burn out of my head, and Liston seemed to know it would happen.” He theorized that Liston’s handlers would rub medication on his shoulders, which would then be transferred to his opponent’s forehead during clinches and drip into the eyes. “Clay did the worst thing when he started screaming and let Liston know it had worked,” said Machen. “Clay panicked. I didn’t do that. I’m more of a seasoned pro, and I hid it from Liston.”

Years later Joe Polino, Liston’s assistant trainer, told Philadelphia Daily News reporter Jack McKinney what actually happened.

According to Polino, in between the third and fourth rounds, Sonny had told him to “juice the gloves.” Polino said they were always ready to do that if Sonny was in real danger of losing. He admitted they had done it in Liston’s fights with Eddie Machen and Cleveland Williams. He said it was a stinging solution but did not specify what was in it.

According to McKinney, “Polino told me that he put the stuff on the gloves at Sonny’s express instructions and then threw the stuff under the ring apron as far as he could.” McKinney also added, “Joe himself felt so conflicted over this. He’d been sucked into it, but he knew if he ever came clean he would never work again.”

…both Walcott and Liston were handled by Philadelphia boxing people.

In each of the above scenarios the heavyweight champion of the world was facing defeat. It appears that desperate and illegal measures were taken by someone in the champion’s corner to influence the outcome. The other common denominator is that both Walcott and Liston were handled by Philadelphia boxing people. Philadelphia was home base for Blinky Palermo, the notorious fight fixer and longtime godfather of the city’s boxing scene. Blinky operated freely in Philly but was banned in New York State. This is not to say that he was involved in either incident (in fact he was in jail in 1964) just that Philadelphia was no stranger to boxing scandal considering who had been in charge for many years. Fight fans with long memories remember the notorious incident involving Harold Johnson, who claimed he was drugged after someone had given him a “poisoned orange” just before he stepped into a Philadelphia ring to face Cuban heavyweight Julio Mederos in 1955. Johnson, the betting favorite, was stopped in the second round. Professional boxing was suspended in Philadelphia for six months following the incident.

Perhaps because Marciano defeated Walcott to win the title the matter was not pursued by Weill or anyone else. There was no investigation by Pennsylvania boxing officials into the possibility that Walcott’s gloves were doctored. Florida officials were even more lax in the aftermath of the Clay-Liston bout. Florida didn’t even have a state boxing commission. Instead, local municipalities (in this case Miami Beach) ran the show. The only investigation that took place concerned the veracity of Liston’s claim that he injured his shoulder, which may have been bogus or exaggerated, but could not be proven.

The nefarious attempts to alter the course of boxing history failed…

Both Rocky Marciano and the fighter then known as Cassius Clay were destined for greatness. The nefarious attempts to alter the course of boxing history failed because Clay’s amazing speed, reflexes and uncanny athletic instincts enabled him to survive the fifth round. The attempt to foil Marciano was also unsuccessful because of the Rock’s almost super human toughness and determination. For three full rounds Marciano could barely see the target in front of him yet he kept attacking in his relentless way, bringing the fight to Walcott despite taking punches that would have stopped most heavyweights in their tracks. On that night it would have taken more than the two fists of a mortal being, let alone a “caustic solution”, to defeat the indestructible “Brockton Blockbuster.”

Article is excerpted from “The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments from the World of Boxing” by Mike Silver (Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2020).

A Greek Tragedy—Boxing Style

April 19, 2022Book Reviews, Boxing ArticlesMike Silver

Book Review: “The Duke: The Life and Lies of Tommy Morrison by Carlos Acevedo”

Hamilcar Publications, 208 Pages, $18.99

Reviewed by Mike Silver

In 1989 a handsome and charismatic twenty year old undefeated professional boxer named Tommy “The Duke” Morrison was on a fast track to super stardom. But all was not as it seemed. “With his bleached pretty-boy look, his genuine charm, and his heartland roots” writes

Acevedo, “Morrison was billed as a wholesome All-American type, despite an unsavory background that included any number of misdeeds, if not misdemeanors…Like Tyson, Morrison could not restrain his tumultuous nature—not for long, anyway.”

Tommy’s early career had all the earmarks of a “Tysonesque” buildup. That was no coincidence since his manager at the time was Bill Cayton, the entrepreneur who was also Mike Tyson’s first manager. In his first year as a pro Morrison was matched with one tomato can after another resulting in 20 straight wins, including 17 by knockout (15 in two rounds or less). The build-up was intended to impress the masses and get him lucrative television bouts and eventually a shot at the heavyweight championship.

Despite the pushover competition, it was obvious that Morrison had a ton of natural talent and potential. As an amateur he was rated among the USA’s best heavyweights. He possessed good instincts, fast hands, and technical skills superior to most heavyweights. But what really set him apart was his explosive left hook. In addition, his PR team told the press that Tommy was a great nephew of the legendary movie star John Wayne (real name Marion Morrison aka “The Duke”). Whether true of not, the claim—never verified—added to his mystique.

One year after turning pro Morrison’s knockout binge and photogenic visage caught the eye of Sylvester Stallone who decided to give the young fighter a co-starring role in Rock V. The notoriety vaulted him into the public consciousness but it was the beginning of the end for Tommy, although no one at the time could predict just how bad the train wreck was going to be.

Aside from his usual recreational drug use, there is evidence that Morrison had begun taking steroids.

It was not just the Hollywood parties and endless parade of young women who found the attractive—and willing—movie star/athlete irresistible. Aside from his usual recreational drug use, there is evidence that Morrison had begun taking steroids. The drug, popular with body builders and macho actors, was used by Morrison to maintain enough bulk to cope with oversized heavyweights. Six months later he resumed his boxing career. His body now appeared more muscular and defined and fifteen pounds heavier. Thereafter he never weighed less than 220 pounds for a fight.

Steroid use by an athlete has both physical and mental side effects. Unstable behavior, including lack of impulse control and poor judgement has been documented. If someone already has these tendencies they can be exacerbated. Injecting steroids can also negatively affect stamina over the long haul because the increase in muscle mass requires more oxygen to counter fatigue. This could have been the case in Morrison’s disastrous fight with former Olympic heavyweight champion Ray Mercer on October 18, 1991. At the time Morrison was undefeated in 27 fights with 23 wins coming by KO. He was the favorite to defeat Mercer (17-0).

The referee, who seemed to be half asleep, stood by impassively while Mercer connected with nine punches, with the last three rendering Morrison unconscious. Only the ropes kept Morrison from falling.

Morrison dominated the first four rounds, outpunching and out boxing Mercer. But in the fifth round he suddenly seemed tired. In the midst of an exchange Mercer caught Morrison with a series of punches that drove him into the ropes. What happened next was one of the most disturbing endings to a bout ever seen. The referee, who seemed to be half asleep, stood by impassively while Mercer connected with nine punches, with the last three rendering Morrison unconscious. Only the ropes kept Morrison from falling. While still unconscious he was hit with six additional full power shots before the referee finally pulled Mercer off. It was a devastating defeat.

Tommy began his comeback 4 months later and over the next year knocked off eight opponents. The winning streak led to a match with former heavyweight champion George Foreman. In the best shape of his life, Tommy avoided going for the knockout, and instead used his superior speed and a jab and move strategy to win a unanimous 12 round decision. It was an impressive victory but just two fights later disaster struck once again when underdog Michael Bentt stopped Tommy in the first round after dropping him three times. Bentt was supposed to be a safe tune-up for an upcoming bout with heavyweight champion Lennox Lewis. The Lewis bout was cancelled. Not only did Tommy lose out on a 7.5 million payday, he also lost his manager who walked away from Tommy after the loss.

It was at this point that Morrison’s private life began to spin out of control. Convicted of drunk driving and drug possession (it was not the first time) he served 14 months in prison. Resuming his career Morrison took on an assortment of professional losers whose sole purpose was to fatten the records of prospects and contenders. Acevedo: “Now more than ever, it seems, Morrison and the boxing underbelly are intertwined like characters in the final, bleak pages of McTeague, handcuffed to each other (one of them a corpse) in Death Valley, California, waiting for the blistering sun to render its impersonal judgement.”

Boxing’s lack of uniform standards, even at the height of the AIDS epidemic, did not require blood tests.

If being an ex-con, a drug addict, a bigamist (yes, he was married to two woman at the same time), and an alcoholic wasn’t bad enough, in 1996 the Nevada Boxing Commission lifted Morrison’s license when a blood test revealed he had the HIV virus. The commission refused to give out details, but shortly thereafter Morrison held a news conference and revealed he had contracted HIV because of a “permissive, fast and reckless lifestyle.” One person who knew Morrison said he actually had gotten AIDS in 1989 but had remained silent in order to continue fighting. Boxing’s lack of uniform standards, even at the height of the AIDS epidemic, did not require blood tests. (Eventually with all the publicity about Morrison several states did adopt mandatory testing for AIDS).

As Morrison’s physical condition continued to deteriorate so did his mind. His thinking became increasingly delusional and paranoid, including bizarre claims of possessing powers of teleportation. Continued drug use and CTE just made things worse. Tommy eventually convinced himself he did not have the AIDS virus, claiming the blood tests gave a false positive result. But as long as he refused to be retested no boxing commission in the U.S. would license him to fight.

Incredibly, ten years after his last fight, and still refusing to be retested, Morrison was granted a license to fight in 2007 at the Mountaineer Casino Racetrack in West Virginia. He knocked out a fighter with a 4-2 record in the second round. One year later he travelled to the Dominican Republic and stopped another obscure opponent in the third round. After a proposed match in Canada was cancelled when Morrison refused the boxing commission’s request for a blood test he finally hung up his gloves for good.

But Acevedo does acknowledge that Morrison was a fine athlete with “the fastest hands of any heavyweight since a prime Mike Tyson.”

Morrison ended his career with a record of 48-3, with 42 knockouts. The record is deceiving. Acevedo: “On the surface, this ledger is impressive, but boxing is a sport in which nothing should be taken at face value. From the day he turned pro, Morrison epitomized the smoke-and-mirror world of boxing where the line between athletic event and consumer fraud is often thinner than a lightbulb filament”. But Acevedo does acknowledge that Morrison was a fine athlete with “the fastest hands of any heavyweight since a prime Mike Tyson.” He also pays tribute to “the kind of heart [guts] often lacking among his peers” and notes the lethal quality of his left hook that combined with an exciting style that made him a perennial fan favorite.

In August 2013, Morrison’s mother told ESPN that Tommy had “full-blown AIDS” and was “in his final days.” She also stated that Morrison had been bedridden for over a year. Tommy Morrison died on September 1, 2013. He was 44 years old.

Carlos Acevedo is that rare talent who inhabits the best of both worlds. He is a magnificent wordsmith whose knowledge and understanding of the “sweet science” is apparent on every page.

There are some very talented authors who have written colorfully about boxing but come up short in their actual understanding of the technical aspects of the sport; and there are other authors whose writing ability is mediocre at best, but whose knowledge of the art of boxing in all its varied nuance is matched by very few. Carlos Acevedo is that rare talent who inhabits the best of both worlds. He is a magnificent wordsmith whose knowledge and understanding of the “sweet science” is apparent on every page. That was my impression after reading his first book “Sporting Blood: Tales From the Dark Side of Boxing”. This work is no exception.

Mike Silver’s books include “The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science” and “Stars in the Ring: Jewish Champions in the Golden Age of Boxing-A Photographic History”; His most recent book is “The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments From the World of Boxing”.

Boxing in 2021: Dumb and Getting Dumber

December 1, 2021Boxing ArticlesMike Silver

Mike Silver

This past week the world lost a giant of musical theater, the legendary lyricist and composer Stephen Sondheim. One of the quotes attributed to Sondheim struck a chord with me.

“The dumbing down of the country reflects itself on Broadway. The shows get dumber, and the public gets used to them.”

If we replace the word Broadway with Boxing the quote can just as easily apply to the current boxing scene:

“The dumbing down of the country reflects itself in every aspect of boxing. Boxing gets dumber and the public gets used to it”.

Boxing currently has about 90 world champions (no one is sure of the exact number) spread over 18 weight divisions

Anyone who has seriously studied boxing history is aware the sport has always reflected the society that surrounds it. That still holds true for today. Just consider one aspect—music. The great golden age of Jazz, musical theater, the Big Band Era and Rock and Roll, all coincided with the golden age of boxing from the 1920s to the 1950s. When the heavyweight championship of the world mattered far more to society than it does today celebrity boxers such as John L. Sullivan, Jack Johnson, Jack Dempsey, Joe Louis, Rocky Marciano, Patterson, Liston, Ali and Tyson were not just important to the sport, they were also pop culture icons who were reflective of the era in which they fought. Today’s pervasive junk culture, where mediocrity is celebrated and flash over substance is the norm, has infested virtually every aspect of society and our lives, including boxing. It’s very appropriate to the times that most people–outside of those who still follow this sport–cannot name the current heavyweight champion, or the one who preceded him.

“Today’s world champions and contenders are at the lowest caliber it has ever been in over 100 years”.

If you want to dumb down and ruin a professional sport, then boxing should be your template. No other sport has experienced the type of out of control anarchy that has plagued professional boxing for the past several decades. Aside from the industry’s lack of integrity, coherence, or respect for its fans, the boxing skill (or lack thereof) of the majority of today’s world champions and contenders are at the lowest caliber it has ever been in over 100 years.

Case in point: The recently televised super bantamweight (weight limit 122 pounds) “unification” title fight between Stephen Fulton, the WBO (World Boxing Organization) champion, and Brandon Figueroa, the WBC (World Boxing Council) champion.

“Skills common among champions in decades past, are impossible to acquire today”.

I’m not blaming the boxers for their lack of skills. It’s not their fault. Every fight today, with rare exception, is a dumbed down facsimile of what a match between top professional boxers used to look like. Fulton and Figueroa had the heart, desire and conditioning but lacked the subtle skills of a seasoned professional boxer. Such skills, common among champions in decades past, are impossible to acquire today. Aside from a dearth of competent trainers today’s boxers are not exposed to the type of competition that over time would add to their experience and improve their performance. From the 1920s to the 1960s boxers had, on average, 60 or more professional fights before getting the opportunity to fight for a world title. A boxer with less than 20 fights was still considered a work in progress. Today the average number of fights to a title is 10 to 20. Going into their fight Figueroa and Fulton had only 19 and 22 fights respectively. Sixty years ago their limited professional experience might have entitled them to an eight round preliminary match in the old Madison Square Garden—if they were lucky. A title fight pitting these novices against the then current world bantam or featherweight champions (think Eder Jofre, Rubin Olivares, Alexis Arguello) would never even be contemplated.

“Fulton and Figueroa, like so many others, are not being taught properly”.

Even taking into account their lack of professional experience it was apparent that Fulton and Figueroa, like so many others, are not being taught properly. Instead of moving about the ring with the speed and footwork expected of featherweights they fought like amateurish heavyweights trying to overwhelm the other with power punches. Feinting, timing and judgement of distance were absent from their limited repertoire. There was no lateral movement. Both fighters were stationary targets and easy to hit. They did not step in with their punches but kept charging towards each other like two rams butting heads. When they closed and became entangled it was obvious that no one had taught them how to clinch. There were very few combinations thrown. They just mostly flailed away with “hail Mary” punches intended to knock out their opponent. When one landed it was usually by accident.

Neither fighter displayed any coherent plan or strategy. As a result, the fight quickly deteriorated into a messy and artless brawl with every round looking exactly like the one that preceded it. If you saw one round you saw the entire fight. There was no change in tactics or adjustment in style because neither boxer was capable of doing that. The only intelligent comment made by one of the five incessantly yammering ringside commentators was that “they’re fighting like ‘rock ‘em, sock ‘em robots’”. No doubt it was meant as a compliment, but is an apt description of boxers devoid of any cleverness or what used to be referred to as “ring guile”. As is often the case with today’s boxers they were getting hit far too often with punches that could have been easily avoided. Defensive moves in the form of parrying, ducking, sliding, slipping, weaving or simply taking a step back were nonexistent. According to CompuBox punch stats they threw a combined total of 1462 power punches (described as any punch not a jab) of which over two-thirds landed—far too many. Yet only 354 jabs were attempted, with barely 10% landing. If either fighter had employed an effective jab more often it could have changed the course of the fight.

“The disappearance of the left jab is one of the more disturbing aspects of the dumbed down quality of contemporary boxing.”

Just as a comparison I watched a video of the Rueben Olivares vs. Alexis Arguello featherweight title bout from 1974 and counted up the number of jabs thrown by Olivares, one of the greatest punchers of the past half century. I stopped counting by the sixth round since Olivares had already thrown 216 jabs, 50 more than Fulton had attempted for the entire 12 rounds. The disappearance of the left jab is one of the more disturbing aspects of the dumbed down quality of contemporary boxing.

If there is anything positive to say about this fight it is that both men were evenly matched. In the end Fulton was awarded a majority decision and thus unified the WBC and WBO super bantamweight titles. But don’t open the champagne bottles just yet. We should not confuse a “unification” fight with a fight for the “undisputed” title. The current IBF (International Boxing Federation) super bantamweight champion is Murodjon (let’s call him Muro) Akhmadaliev of Uzbekistan. In addition to the IBF title Muro also owns the WBA “Super World Super Bantamweight” title. No, that is not a typo. The word “Super” appears twice to differentiate it from the plain “Super” WBA title which appears to be vacant at this time. Adding another version of the same 122 pound title gives the WBA an opportunity to charge another “sanctioning fee” when the time comes to crown the next “super, super” world champion. What this means is that the WBA recognizes not one, but two versions of their same 122 pound world title. It is a clever subterfuge. More titles mean additional fees can be deducted from the boxer’s purse for the “privilege” of fighting for an organization’s title belt. All four sanctioning groups are guilty of the same behavior. It’s why this farcical but dangerous sport currently has about 90 world champions (no one is sure of the exact number) spread over 18 weight divisions, at least 7 of which are unnecessary. Over the past 40 years millions of dollars in sanctioning fees have flowed into the coffers of the WBC, WBA, IBF and WBO with nothing of value being returned to the sport. One can never underestimate the arrogance and crass stupidity of these useless boxing parasites who continue to feed off of the blood, sweat and tears of the boxers they exploit.

Mike Silver’s books include “The Arc of Boxing: The Rise and Decline of the Sweet Science” and “Stars in the Ring: Jewish Champions in the Golden Age of Boxing-A Photographic History”; His most recent book is “The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments From the World of Boxing”.

Book Review: “Damage: The Untold Story Of Brain Trauma In Boxing” By Tris Dixon,

July 4, 2021Book Reviews, Boxing ArticlesBoxing Injuries, CTEMike Silver

Boxing’s Human Demolition Derby

By Mike Silver

The wealth of information contained in this remarkable book is more important than 100 medical papers about brain damage in boxing because it is written in layman’s language and exposes the personal stories behind the cold statistics and scientific jargon. Its words should serve as a clarion call for action on behalf of the athletes for whom boxing is not so much a choice as a calling. In bringing attention to this serious topic Tris Dixon does not seek to abolish boxing—although there is a strong case to be made for that both medically and morally—but to try and make a dangerous sport less dangerous by shining a light on a subject that is too often ignored or neglected by the boxing establishment.

The first chapters reveal a litany of neurological studies that emphatically link boxing to chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), which is a medical term for brain damage caused by repetitive concussive and/or sub concussive blows to the head. At least 70 years before Dr. Bennet Omalu famously discovered and published his findings on chronic traumatic encephalopathy in American football players, neurologists in the 1920s and 1930s had already made that same connection as it relates to professional boxers. At that time CTE was known to the general public by a different name—“punch drunk”. The term was used to describe boxers “who were losing their faculties in the form of slurred speech, awkward movement, memory loss, and other degenerative behavioral changes.” Eventually scientists and neurologists stopped using the pejorative “punch drunk” and replaced it with the more elegant sounding “dementia pugilistica”, which is just another name for CTE.

That would mean from the beginning of the last century to the present thousands upon thousands of boxers have been afflicted with varying degrees of brain damage.

Subsequent studies indicated the condition was not confined to any specific population of prizefighter. “It was not just the old fighters who suffered from it”, writes Dixon. “Nor, as the early research showed, was it just novices, sparring partners, and fall guys. Some fighters were burnt out before others, some fought long, hard careers, some were ‘punchy’ after a dozen fights.” Most alarming of all was a consensus by the scientists that approximately 90% of all professional boxers were affected in some way. That would mean from the beginning of the last century to the present thousands upon thousands of boxers have been afflicted with varying degrees of brain damage.

CTE is a progressive condition that slowly but surely gets worse over time. Dixon describes the ongoing research that is attempting to understand why some boxers develop symptoms early and others seem able to function normally until their 50s or early 60s when they suddenly drop off the cliff, so to speak, and quickly descend into a haze of mental confusion and premature senility even though the boxer has retired from the ring and repeated head traumas are at an end.

In addition to explaining the science, Dixon does not shy away from questioning the moral ambiguities of the sport. He quotes Dr. Ernst Jokl, whose book The Medical Aspects of Boxing (1941) is considered a seminal work for its time: “Of all the major sports, boxing occupies a special position since its aim is that of producing injuries, more particularly to the brain…similar injuries occur in sports other than boxing, e.g., in football or wrestling. But here they are accidents rather than sequale of intentional acts. Only in boxing are traumatic injuries unavoidable even if the rules are adhered to.”

Second-impact syndrome, which can result in permanent brain damage, is a common occurrence in many prizefights and sparring sessions…

Dixon notes that in recent years researchers have determined that one of the most dangerous aspects of both boxing and football is second impact-syndrome “when someone suffers a second concussion while still suffering from the first.” Second-impact syndrome, which can result in permanent brain damage, is a common occurrence in many prizefights and sparring sessions yet “is not widely discussed in boxing when it should be a regular part of the conversation…[it] is one of the most serious threats to brain injury, both in the long and short term. In second-impact syndrome, the first hard hit has done more damage than anyone suspects and then the boxer takes a follow-up shot and life can be irreparably changed. A fighter can be hurt in sparring and still not be healed by fight night, when disaster can strike.” The danger is compounded in the presence of an incompetent referee or ringside physician. Dixon laments the fact that boxing does not have the equivalent of the “tap out” in mixed martial arts (MMA) contests. But the “I am willing to be carried out on my shield” mentality is embedded into the culture of this ancient sport and in the minds of its fighters. Even so, modern gloved boxing was never meant to be a human demolition derby or a fight to the death.

His (Ali’s) family did not want to believe or admit that boxing was the cause.

Of course no book on brain injuries in boxing would be complete without mentioning the most famous boxer of them all—Muhammad Ali. Dixon devotes several chapters to Ali, starting when Ali began to show symptoms of CTE while still fighting. By his early 40s (a few years after he retired) Ali’s hand tremors, slowing of his speech and movement noticeably worsened. His family did not want to believe or admit that boxing was the cause. They claimed that he had Parkinson’s disease and his condition had nothing to do with boxing. While it’s possible that in later years he may have developed Parkinson’s disease Dixon quotes several prominent doctors who state unequivocally that boxing was the primary cause of Ali’s infirmity.

Ali actually suffered from Parkinson’s syndrome, which is destruction by trauma to the same parts of the brain that are destroyed by someone who develops Parkinson’s disease. It is not the same as Parkinson’s disease and has a different cause.

Ali actually suffered from Parkinson’s syndrome, which is destruction by trauma to the same parts of the brain that are destroyed by someone who develops Parkinson’s disease. It is not the same as Parkinson’s disease and has a different cause. CTE, which can cause Parkinson’s syndrome, is identified at autopsy by the presence of tau protein in the brain. Tau gradually breaks down brain cells, causing the reduced state fighters find themselves in while they’re still alive. Dr. Robert Cantu, one of the world’s foremost neurosurgeons, and senior advisor to the NFL Head, Neck and Spine Committee states that “CTE is a highly serious issue itself, but it could also be an accelerant to other neurological illnesses”, something he is almost certain of. “Of the great fighters who died and were diagnosed with dementia, Parkinson’s, ALS, or Alzheimer’s over the years, there is not only a chance that it was just CTE misdiagnosed, but it could have triggered different medical problems. You’ve got dementia, Alzhiemer’s, Parkinson’s but you got it twenty or thirty years earlier. But there are pure cases of CTE, and in those cases they’re probably not an accelerant, just the result.” Dr. Ann McKee, another renowned neuropathologist interviewed by Dixon, “has checked more than twenty-five boxers’ brains and has yet to see one that has not had CTE from fighting.”

“Statistics from CompuBox, which compiled the punch stats from 47 of Ali’s 61 professional fights, revealed he was hit 8,877 times.”

Dixon tells us that in 1981 a CAT scan of Ali’s brain was taken just before his last fight. It showed the type of atrophy that show up in 50 percent of boxers with more than 20 bouts—a percentage far higher than in the general population. This type of abnormality is found four times as frequently in boxers as in non-boxers. In the latter half of his 20 year career Ali absorbed a huge number of punches: “Statistics from CompuBox, which compiled the punch stats from 47 of Ali’s 61 professional fights, revealed he was hit 8,877 times.” That number does not include all the hits he took in countless rounds of sparring. Ali had stayed too long and paid a terrible price. At the time of his death at the age of 74 in 2016 Ali “had been unwell for 3 decades.” His brain damage was severe, and it was all due to boxing—not Parkinson’s disease as has so often erroneously been credited for his condition. Had Ali donated his brain for research the diagnosis of CTE would have been confirmed, as it has with the dozens of deceased boxers (and many more football players) who willed their brains to science. Instead, the most recognizable face on the planet was propped up as an advocate to find a cure for Parkinson’s disease. All well and good, but what he should have been was the poster person for brain damage in boxing.

Frankie (Pryor) told Dixon she wished that Ali’s family had publicly acknowledged the reason behind the icon’s demise as that could have helped countless more fighters understand what happened to them.

Frankie Pryor knows about CTE first hand. She is one of several wives of former champions who were interviewed by Dixon. Frankie’s late husband, Aaron “Hawk” Pryor, was one of the greatest fighters of the past 50 years. But, like so many others, he became a boxing casualty. Frankie told Dixon she wished that Ali’s family had publicly acknowledged the reason behind the icon’s demise as that could have helped countless more fighters understand what happened to them. “It was kind of always my one regret because the one fighter who had the notoriety and could have brought a lot of attention to this was Ali”, she said. “And then they went off on this Parkinson’s thing…I don’t think it was done maliciously. Maybe Lonnie [Ali’s wife] didn’t fully understand the impact, but just to say, ‘it wasn’t boxing, it was Parkinson’s.’ No it wasn’t.”

How sad for this tragic sport that there is no Muhammad Ali Center for patients and family members who are dealing with boxing induced brain damage.

There is a research center named for Ali in Phoenix, Arizona—the Muhammad Ali Parkinson’s Center. It is described as “a comprehensive resource center for patients and family members dealing with Parkinson’s disease.” That is the legacy the champ’s family prefers. But what does that legacy mean to the legions of damaged boxers who, like Ali, are suffering the debilitating effects of chronic traumatic encephalopathy? How sad for this tragic sport that there is no Muhammad Ali Center for patients and family members who are dealing with boxing induced brain damage.

Nevertheless, research into the causes and treatment of CTE continues thanks to the efforts of Dr. Robert Cantu, Dr. Ann McKee, and Dr. Charles Bernick. They are at the forefront of the science seeking to detect and track the earliest and most subtle signs of brain injury in those exposed to head trauma. A remedy to treat, or perhaps even reverse, the damage done by the tau protein is a long way off. Many of the studies will not bear fruit for another 10 or even twenty years. In the meantime what can be done to limit the damage? The answer: Plenty, but only if there is the will to change. Among the changes that Dixon says should be considered are glove size, reducing exposure by limiting the number of rounds and their duration, better education for referees and ringside physicians, and the use of head guards.

Dixon points out “the lack of detailed education with trainers, through commissions or sanctioning bodies. No memos have gone out since CTE was confirmed.

There are many people and organizations in the professional boxing world that are not anxious to accept the findings of the scientists or do anything of significance that might make the sport less dangerous. Dixon points out “the lack of detailed education with trainers, through commissions or sanctioning bodies. No memos have gone out since CTE was confirmed. Nothing changed, yet this—punch–drunk syndrome—was boxing’s problem before it was anyone else’s.” In the words of Chris Nowinski, a former Harvard football player, WWE wrestler, and founder of an organization called the Concussion Legacy, “Fighters are on their own…If you compare boxing to what’s happening in football or other sports there’s virtually no one looking out for the athletes…Without a centralized organization, there’s nowhere for boxers to get educated, no go to source, no self-help manuals, and no union.” Absent a centralized organization or boxers’ union (don’t hold your breath waiting for that to happen) the major promoter/entrepreneurs are in control. Referees and ringside officials are licensed by state boxing commissions but they are paid by the promoter. This is a clear conflict of interest as the promoter has a vested interest in seeing that a promising fighter under contract to him does not lose. Referees and ringside physicians should be completely independent of having anything to do with a promoter or sanctioning organization. Dr. Margaret Goodman, a respected former ringside physician for the Nevada Boxing Commission, explained how a promoter’s influence can determine who officiates: “If you [the ringside physician] stop a fight or recommend a fight should be stopped from a promoter that has big connections with the commission, you’re never going to work another fight again. Same thing for the referees. Same thing for the judges…there are too many outside influences, and the overall health of the sport has not improved as much as it could from those factors as well, which most people don’t take into account.” No one wants to see a boxer seriously injured but with no effective oversight in place the pervasive greed and corruption of promoters and sanctioning organizations takes precedence over any concern for the boxer’s health.

One cannot help but be moved and disturbed by the author’s accounts of his interviews with these damaged gladiators.

The best parts of the book involve Dixon’s description of his personal interaction with the boxers and their families. One cannot help but be moved and disturbed by the author’s accounts of his interviews with these damaged gladiators. Although the boxers were concerned about the long term effects of their punishing careers most said—and it speaks to the pull of this sport and how central it is to their lives—that they would do it again even if it meant winding up with brain damage.

“Fighters must be made to understand the cumulative toll sparring and boxing takes on them and they need to be prepared to walk away when the time comes.”

Dixon concludes with the following words: “The sport might not be able to save every fighter but it must give them the best chance of saving them from themselves. Fighters must be made to understand the cumulative toll sparring and boxing takes on them and they need to be prepared to walk away when the time comes. That is the hardest part for many fighters, and it’s why the sport should do more to help as they start a new chapter….It’s time boxing confronts its own worst problem, stops ignoring it, and steps up to address it at all levels. This is a sport of courage and it will take bravery but it’s happened in football, soccer, and rugby although it should not be up to other sports to take on boxing’s biggest fight.” It is a fight that is long overdue.

Damage: The Untold Story Of Brain Trauma In Boxing

By Tris Dixon

Hamilcar Publications, 227 Pages, $29.99

Teddy Atlas: Cyber Boxing Coach

November 14, 2020Boxing InterviewsMike Silver

Mike Silver Talks With Teddy Atlas About His New Boxing Instructional Videos

Mike Silver

Teddy Atlas is a world renowned trainer and boxing commentator. Over the course of his 40 plus year career Teddy has mentored and taught scores of top amateur and professional boxers, including world champions Wilfredo Benitez, Mike Tyson, Simon Brown, Michael Moorer, Timothy Bradley, Joey Gamache, Barry McGuigan and Alexander Povetkin. He is also one of the sport’s most popular and respected broadcasters, having worked for ESPN as both an analyst and color commentator for over 20 years.

Although Teddy is no longer actively training boxers his expertise and wisdom is now available to everyone via a series of exceptional instructional videos. They are the next best thing to having Teddy right in front of you teaching you everything from the basics to more sophisticated “tricks of the trade” (not to mention the many life lessons that are always interwoven into Atlas’s memorable teaching style). Whether you are a boxer, armchair fan, trainer or just someone who is curious to know more about this ancient sport, you can have no better guide than Teddy Atlas.

So far three instructional video programs have been released and have proven to be extremely popular. They are: The Fundamentals of Boxing; The Peek-A-Boo Style of Boxing; 14 Signature Punches From All of The Greats. Nine more programs are planned, each covering a different aspect of the sweet science. Each video program is broken into separate segments that total about 3 hours.

Following are excerpts from an interview I recently conducted with Teddy to discuss the videos and his plans for future tutorials.

Mike: Whose idea was it to do these videos?

Teddy: The owners of Dynamic Striking.com contacted my daughter and asked if I would be interested in doing a boxing instructional video. They are the biggest makers of instructional fight videos in the world. A lot of the videos are about the MMA [Mixed Martial Arts] world, but they have some boxing and they wanted to get more involved with that.

After the initial success of the first one we found out there is a base out there that is interested and wants to learn.

Mike: Was the idea to do just one video?

Teddy: I thought so, but after seeing how successful the video was they suggested to keep doing them on specific areas of boxing. After the initial success of the first one we found out there is a base out there that is interested and wants to learn. So we started off with one, and now we’ve done four. The plan is to do eight more after that.

Mike:You’ve spent 45 years teaching the finer points of the sweet science. Will you still be involved in personally training boxers?

Teddy: I’m not inclined to train fighters so easily anymore. It takes a lot out of me. I’ve always been saying on ESPN for 25 years that when a fighter enters the ring they leave with less of themselves. What I never said was, it’s the same for a trainer. At least it’s been that way for me over the years. There is such a strong bond between trainer and fighter. You lose a piece of yourself physically, emotionally, even spiritually. You lose faith in people sometimes. You put so much into them they sometimes disappoint you in such a close proximity. So I’m not inclined to so readily say yes, anymore.

Mike: Who was the last boxer you trained?

Teddy: I was asked to come out of retirement about three years ago to train light heavyweight Oleksandr Gvozkyk. We won a world title against a really good puncher, Adonis Stevenson. Following that fight I was asked to train some marquee fighters. I’ve been saying no to them for the most part because it’s hard to want to make that commitment because of all of the things that float around that commitment that I know will go into it—going away from home, being in camp, the physical, mental and emotional demands of being responsible for a person.

Mike: Doing the videos, at this stage of your career, seems like a good idea because in a very real sense you will still be teaching.

Teddy Atlas Working The Corner With Michael Moorer The Night He Won The Title From Evander Holyfield

Teddy: Cus D’Amato said I was born to teach. I don’t know, but I’ve been doing it since I’m 19 years old. I was training Wilfredo Benitez when I was like 21. Not that I deserved it, but I was with Cus D’Amato, so I got that opportunity. If I told you some of the names of fighters I trained before I was 24 you’d shake your head. They’re all world champions, or guys who just fought for a world title and came up short. I became a commentator for 25 years with ESPN. I still work for them doing SportsCenter stuff, and I was fortunate enough to be put into the Hall of Fame as a broadcaster. But with all of that I’m still a teacher. Like Cus said, when you’re a teacher you teach. It’s always in you, it never leaves you. Because what is teaching? Teaching is really an opportunity, a privilege, and its work. It is a responsibility that could be a burden, like I just pointed out, but it’s also a privilege because you get a chance to make somebody better. You get a chance to help somebody in this world. That’s pretty good.

Mike: Modern technology has made it possible for you to reach a much wider audience who will benefit from your knowledge even if you’re not doing one on one teaching anymore.

Teddy: Like I just explained to you, I was reticent to do it anymore. I was keeping myself out of it. So this opportunity with Dynamic Striking comes along and my daughter talked me into it. She reminded me that this was a chance to do what I do best without having to go to camp, without having to have that personal involvement with the fighter that has worn me out. She explained to me that instead of helping one person I could help thousands who could learn something the right way, hopefully. They can improve on their interest in the sport, on their partaking of the sport, whether it’s a professional or an amateur, or a parent that wants their kid to learn the fundamentals properly, or a white collar guy who wants to work out but wants to do it the right way, not the wrong way. So she reminded me that here is an opportunity that came knocking on my door to continue teaching where I was inclined not to teach anymore.

Unlike other sports where you have to have a background in that sport, in boxing anyone can be a trainer. I couldn’t wind up on the sideline coaching a football team in the NFL because I don’t have that background.

Mike: It is my belief, and I’ve written about it, that we do not have nearly enough competent trainers who know how to teach the finer points of boxing technique.

Teddy: It’s true. Unlike other sports where you have to have a background in that sport, in boxing anyone can be a trainer. I couldn’t wind up on the sideline coaching a football team in the NFL because I don’t have that background. I don’t belong there, even though I may know the basics of the sport. But you can do that in my sport. I’m not saying they have to spend 8 years apprenticeship up in Catskill away from everything with Cus D’Amato, who was my mentor, and who had a great boxing mind. But the opportunities to do that aren’t even there anymore, to be quite honest. There should be some apprenticeship served. I look around and I see too many of these so called trainers without a background that are teaching fighters, so therefore the teaching is inappropriate. It is not correct in a lot of ways. So here is an opportunity, while I can still do it, without having to pick up the responsibility of the personal relationship with a fighter that I talked about earlier. I can still be able to teach people in a way that is fundamentally correct, and in a way that’s been lost in the sport to a certain degree because we do not have the teachers we should have. We have some good ones, but we have some that are not.

Mike: Are the lessons in these tutorials the same that Cus taught you in the eight years you were with him?

Teddy: Yes and no. I learned the nuts and bolts from Cus, the ABCs, the laws, the rules. There are laws in life and there are laws in boxing. You break the law in boxing you don’t get a ticket, you don’t get jail time, you get punched in the face. So you learn the basics and you have that foundation, and then with experience you start to add certain things.

Mike: What are some examples of the “nuts and bolts” of boxing?

Teddy: Moving your head after your last punch and covering back fast with your hands; keeping your chin down; keeping a slight bend in your knees; sharing the weight on both legs. You don’t put it all on one leg, or even 60% on one leg, it has to be 50-50 on both legs. Why? So you’re available to react without a millisecond lost. The weight is on the balls of your feet so you are ready to move while having the benefit of balance. You have to learn all those things and more, and you eventually advance.

Mike: The second video in the series explains the peek-a-boo style of boxing that Cus made famous. It was used to great effect by former champions Floyd Patterson, Mike Tyson and Jose Torres.

Teddy: The peek-a-boo was pure Cus D’Amato. People are interested in it. It’s part of the history of the sport. So when we did the peek-a-boo video of course I drew it directly from the blueprints of what Cus taught me and gave me, and instilled in me. But from there we advanced to other techniques.

Mike: In the video program titled 14 Signature Punches from All the Greats you explain and demonstrate some of boxing’s most effective “signature” punches that are identified with certain boxers. One of my personal favorites is the one called “The Walk Off”.

Jersey Joe Walcott Sneaks A Jab In On Rocky Marciano

Teddy: Jersey Joe Walcott [heavyweight champion 1951-1952] had this move where he would hitch up his trunks and start to walk off to the side a little bit. What the hell is that? Probably a habit he picked up, maybe a wasted habit? No it’s not wasted. It was thought out. It was developed. It was designed for a reason. The natural instinct of the person in front of him was to relax just for a moment…just for a moment. Like you have in nature when an animal, say a snake, a python, will make you relax just for a second and then–bang! Strike and it’s over. Well it’s the same thing. Jersey Joe would adjust his trunks and take a little walk off to the side, and you relax a little bit, you start to follow him and you don’t even realize you’re following him. And you start to follow him and– bang! He’s got you. Like the python. He’s got you. Sometimes it doesn’t even register with the spectators who see it. They think, “Oh, it just happened”. But it didn’t just happen. It happened because Walcott made it happen. You don’t knock great guys out by accident. Like Sugar Ray Robinson said, “I’ve got to dress them up before I take them out”. And that’s what Walcott did. He adjusted his trunks a little bit, he started moving his shoulders, walked like he was just taking a casual walk in the park, and then all of a sudden he synchronized the slip of his shoulders with that left uppercut and he caught Ezzard Charles—a great fighter—and knocked him out.

Mike: I’ve seen film footage of that fight but never quite understood what Walcott was doing until you explained it.

Teddy: Walcott had all those little subtleties, nuances, instinctive things that he knew he could do from experience. He knew how to walk the tightrope. He knew to take something that looked risky, and take the risk out of it. All that was left was the ingenuity and the genius of it that gave him that little edge. Life’s about overcoming, about finding a way. That’s what boxing’s about. I try to bring those things to this video series as it relates to boxing.

Mike: What is another example of a boxer’s “signature punch”

Teddy: Hector Camacho’s “trip hammer” jab. Camacho was a helluva fighter. He had great, great speed, and great boxing ability. His jab was very effective, but he did it different than anyone else’s. Nobody even noticed it. I liken it to a trip hammer. He didn’t turn it over, he just dropped it. He just dropped it! And what did that do? Well It saved him probably 2 tenths of a second. It sounds like nothing, but it’s everything. It got him there just a little quicker, without some of that excess motion, but he still threw it straight. He didn’t give any warning. So the basics were still there, but his genius, his instincts took it to a different place. I let my experiences do the same thing for me as a teacher.

Mike: What other instructional videos are planned?

Teddy: The next one is called Keys to the Door. It should be up in about two weeks. It’s all about the jab.

There are cave paintings found in Ethiopia that go back thousands of years depicting boxers and you always see the lead hand extended.

Mike: Why is it called Keys to the Door?

Teddy: The title is appropriate because the jab is the key that opens the door. It’s the lantern that lights the way. There are cave paintings found in Ethiopia that go back thousands of years depicting boxers and you always see the lead hand extended. There’s a reason for that. Even way back then they knew there had to be a science to it. There had to be something that was more than just the brawn. The jab shows the way. If it was just the brawn all the creatures would have been the ones that were in charge. But they weren’t in charge; they were the ones that were on the grill being cooked. Man used his brain to give him the edge and figure out the advantages. There were tribes that weren’t necessarily the most physical but they were the ones that lived a little better. They were the ones that won the battles they had to win. They were a little smarter and had a little more ingenuity. It’s the same with boxing. The guys who were big and strong and came in there throwing haymakers did not have the edge against those who were a little smarter and had a little more ingenuity.

Mike: So what you’re saying is the jab is probably as old as boxing itself?

Teddy: Apparently. Even back then they knew there had to be a jab to lead the way. There had to be science connected to the physical that would give them an edge. I explain some of the history in these tutorials and why the jab has been around since the beginning of boxing. Without the jab it wouldn’t be called boxing. It would be called slugging. It would be called throwing or chucking, but it wouldn’t be boxing. It is boxing for a reason, and a big part of that reason is the jab. The jab is what makes it possible for you to do everything else. It is part of the militia that clears the way, which gets there first so you can come in with the artillery. Something has to clear the way. Something has to set up the way for the tanks to come in—that’s the jab.

Mike: I’ve never heard the jab described that way, but it makes perfect sense.

Teddy: How many guys out there know there’s 14 different ways to throw a jab? Not too many.

Mike: What’s an example of using the jab in a different way?

Teddy: Say you are about to throw a jab but you realize your opponent is set. What does that mean? That means he’s looking to counter you. Don’t throw it. So what do you do? You throw a little feint and you freeze him, then you quickly step just six inches off to the left, and you throw it from there—different place, different position, different result. Instead of getting hit, you land, and he doesn’t land. It’s just one example of a different kind of way to throw the jab.

A lot of people forget that when Tyson was Tyson–when he was good–he out jabbed taller guys.

Mike: I’ve seen fighters you’ve trained do that move, including Mike Tyson.

Teddy: A lot of people forget that when Tyson was Tyson–when he was good–he out jabbed taller guys. How? He was shorter than most of his opponents. How did he out jab a taller guy? He did it by learning how to slip a punch, taking away the guy’s reach, so now he could jab inside it.

Mike: A boxer who knows how and when to use a jab certainly has an edge over one who does not.

Teddy: I make the following point when I introduce the video before I get into the ring and show it. Can you imagine Muhammad Ali without a jab? I can answer that—no. Could you imagine Floyd Mayweather Jr. without a jab? Go back to the great golden era; can you imagine Willie Pep without a jab? No, you couldn’t. Can you imagine George Foreman without a jab? Everyone saw the big shots that took Joe Frazier off the ground to win the heavyweight title. The jab set up that big uppercut. The jab kept him off balance, the jab never let him recover, the jab discombobulated him.

Mike: Your videos have proven to be a valuable resource for anyone interested in boxing. Thank you Teddy for continuing to teach, inform and entertain.

Teddy: I’m blessed and grateful that people are going out there and purchasing it. They’re interested in the topics and I’m hoping they’ll understand the truth of it.

Ed. Note: The Teddy Atlas instructional videos can be purchased and downloaded from Dynamic Striking.com. The cost is $97 dollars per program.

Mike Silver’s newest book is The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments from the World of Boxing. Available from Amazon.com or publisher’s website: Rowman.com

“A great painting, like a great boxing match, can be appreciated on many different levels.”

November 3, 2020Boxing Articles, Boxing Interviews, UncategorizedMike Silver

Boxing Paintings: The Big Three From An Artist’s Point of View

By
Mike Silver

From ancient times to the present, the visual and emotional drama that is inherent in the sport of boxing has always attracted and inspired artists. Statues, friezes, vase paintings, and murals depicting boxing scenes and boxers have been discovered in ancient Crete, Greece and Rome. Many are on display in the great museums of the world. One of the earliest known images is a stone slab relief, discovered in Baghdad, which shows two boxers with taped leather hands. It is estimated to be 5000 years old.

In more recent times important American artists have produced an impressive volume of work devoted to the sport. Three of the most famous boxing paintings of the 20th century were done by American artists. They are Dempsey and Willard by James Montgomery Flagg; Dempsey and Firpo by George Bellows, and Brown Bomber by Robert Riggs. Each of these compelling masterpieces depicts a scene from an iconic heavyweight championship contest.

Three of the most famous boxing paintings of the 20th century were done by American artists.

A great painting, like a great boxing match, can be appreciated on many different levels. There are layers and nuances to each—some obvious and some not so obvious. I can analyze a fight much easier than I can analyze a painting. So, I thought it might be interesting to seek out the expert analysis of an accomplished artist and hear what he had to say about the aforementioned paintings.

One of my dear friends is renowned artist Sol Korby. Sol is an award winning painter and illustrator. After service in World War II Sol was employed by various advertising agencies, and subsequently for most of the leading book publishers including Time Inc., Dell, Ace, Fawcett and Avon. (A sampling of Sol’s amazing creations can be viewed at: SolKorbyIllustrations.com)

Sol is ageless. At 90 years plus he is still active and productive, working in his studio almost every day. He is also familiar with boxing’s colorful history. In fact, his work includes a number of boxing subjects. I was anxious to hear what he had to say about each painting.

But first a brief history of the artists and their subjects:

“Notice how Flagg put a cloud in the sky and how he silhouetted Dempsey’s head against the white cloud to emphasize Dempsey’s importance.” –Sol Korby

Dempsey and Willard
James Montgomery Flagg
(Click On Image To Enlarge)

Dempsey and Willard (6’ x 19’): James Montgomery Flagg (1877-1960), was a popular and prolific artist best known for his World War I recruiting poster of Uncle Sam pointing to the viewer (inspired by a British recruitment poster showing Lord Kitchener in a similar pose) with the caption “I Want YOU for U.S. Army”. The Dempsey and Willard mural is 6 feet high by 19 feet wide and is by far the largest of the three paintings. It depicts heavyweight champion Jess Willard and challenger Jack Dempsey in a scene from the July 4, 1919 title fight. Dempsey was 60 pounds lighter than the 6’ 6 ½” 250 pound champion. It didn’t matter. In a savage beat down Dempsey floored Willard seven times in the opening round. The game champion withstood a terrible beating until his corner finally threw in the towel before the start of the 4th round. The electrifying “Manassa Mauler” would hold the title for the next seven years and become the greatest sports superstar of the roaring twenties.

The mural was commissioned by Jack Dempsey and completed in 1944. It was prominently displayed on the wall of his popular Broadway bar and restaurant. Although invited to participate in the celebrity packed unveiling Jess Willard declined to attend. He wired Dempsey, saying, “Sorry I can’t be there. But I saw enough of you 25 years ago to last me a lifetime.”

After the restaurant closed in 1974, Dempsey and his wife Deanna donated the painting to the Smithsonian’s National Gallery of Art in Washington D. C. where it is on permanent display.

Dempsey and Firpo (51” x 63 ¼”): George Wesley Bellows (1882-1925) was one of the most renowned artists of his generation. His previous boxing paintings and prints, numbering 46 in all, had already won him considerable fame, most notably Stag at Sharkey’s. Bellows was commissioned by the New York Evening Journal to cover the heavyweight title fight between champion Jack Dempsey and Argentina’s Luis Angel Firpo on September 23, 1923 at New York’s Polo Grounds. The fight was witnessed by 90,000 fans who contributed to boxing’s second million dollar gate.

In a wild first round Firpo was dropped seven times and Dempsey twice. The painting captures the dramatic moment when Dempsey is knocked out of the ring by Firpo. As the painting shows, he landed on reporters sitting in the first press row. Controversy erupted when it was claimed Dempsey was unfairly aided by the reporters who proceeded to push him back into the ring (in the painting one reporter’s hand is seen on Dempsey’s back).
Bellows inserted himself in the painting. He is the bald fellow seated on the extreme left. The painting is owned by the Whitney Museum of American Art.

The Brown Bomber (31” x 41”): Robert Riggs (1896-1970) was a painter, printmaker, and illustrator well known in the 1930s for his realistic images of the circus, boxing matches, hospitals and psychiatric wards. The Brown Bomber is the nickname of the great heavyweight champion Joe Louis, who held the title from 1937 to 1949 and defended it a record 25 times. The scene depicts the climactic ending to the historic championship fight between Louis and Germany’s Max Schmeling on June 22, 1938 at Yankee Stadium. Louis was seeking to avenge his knockout loss to Schmeling (the only blot on his otherwise perfect record) that had taken place two years earlier. This fight had huge political and social significance. On the eve of World War II, with Nazi Germany ascending, the world focused their attention on this fight. Louis was not just fighting for himself. To the 70,000 fans in the sold out stadium and millions more listening on radio, the fight symbolized the struggle between democracy and Nazi Germany. Joe Louis’ swift and brutal annihilation of Schmeling in the very first round made him a national hero and cemented his legendary status for all time. The painting is owned by the Taubman Museum of Art, in Roanoke, Virginia.

Of the three paintings, Dempsey and Willard is Sol Korby’s favorite: “I think most people who are interested in art would say Bellows is the best painter of the three, probably because he’s in between Flagg and Riggs. Riggs is too stylized, and Flagg is not stylized at all, and Bellows is right in the middle. Personally, I like Flagg best because his work is realistic. I do that kind of work. I like to see things the way they are in nature. When I do a painting I try to make it as close as possible to nature.

“One of the main differences between Flagg’s mural and the two paintings by Bellows and Riggs, aside from the size, is that the others have action. This painting is not really a fight picture the way you and I know a fight picture. There’s no action. There’s no blood. It’s just the two principle fighters in their typical poses. Flagg depicts the two fighters in their prime and the way they move. Willard is moving forward and he’s got one glove near his chest and the other is down near his thigh. He’s not concerned that Dempsey’s going to hit him. It shows he’s not afraid of him at all. He thinks he can beat Dempsey. It wasn’t until the first couple of punches that Willard really knew he was in for a fight now.

“On the left side of the painting you have the referee standing there. He’s not running towards them. He’s just standing there to balance out the ring post on the right side of the painting. It works as a mural because we’re talking about a painting that’s measured in feet. The other paintings are measured in inches. So you have a painting that’s 6 feet by 19 feet symbolizing their fighting styles. I think he did a fantastic job on it.

“This painting is an example of what I call a David and Goliath theme. Flagg wanted to get that big vs. little effect. You’ve got the small guy, who everybody roots for, and you’ve got the monster who everybody wants to lose. Flagg shows Dempsey at his best in that tiger crouch against this giant. He looks like he’s just about to spring up. You’ll also notice how Flagg put a cloud in the sky and how he silhouetted Dempsey’s head against the white cloud to emphasize Dempsey’s importance.

“Flagg and Dempsey knew each other very well. They traveled in the same circles. He was always in the restaurant.”

“Flagg and Dempsey knew each other very well. They traveled in the same circles. He was always in the restaurant. The end result was a very personal type of painting. Flagg put all his friends in the first row. Not only his friends, but also friends of Dempsey. He’s got different sportswriters and people they associate with, including satirist Damon Runyon, cartoonist Rube Goldberg, promoter Tex Rickard, humorist Bugs Baer and Dempsey’s trainer, Jimmy DeForrest. [note: Flagg, like Bellows, inserted himself into the painting and is seated in the first row]. That’s the intent of this picture. It’s not really a boxing picture like the others because there’s no action in it and there’s no blood and neither is being knocked down.

“Many of Flagg’s friends were in show business. Two of his best friends were comedian W.C. Fields and actor John Barrymore. He used to go out all night with them carousing and drinking and would get home very late. If they weren’t in a play or anything they had nothing else to do, so while they had a lot of time, he had work to do and, tight or not, he could knock off an entire illustration in one afternoon. That’s how fast he was.

“In his painting of Dempsey and Firpo, George Bellows did something very unique”, explains Sol. “He has Dempsey falling back and somebody in the press row with his hand on Dempsey’s back is about to push him back into the ring. Many people today are not familiar with this fight, even though they may have heard the name Jack Dempsey. Looking at the painting for the first time they might think it is Dempsey who knocked Firpo out of the ring. But the one thing that tells you Dempsey won this fight, even though you know he is knocked out of the ring, is to look at his hair. His hair is immaculate. There is not one strand out of place. The guy was knocked out of the ring and his hair didn’t move! Bellows painted it that way to show Dempsey wasn’t even hurt to begin with and, as we know, he got back into the ring and knocked out Firpo in the next round.

“Dempsey had only ten seconds to make it back into the ring before being counted out. Bellows shows the referee starting the count right away. In this way he draws attention to the controversy about whether Dempsey could have gotten back into the ring in time without the help of the people who pushed him back.

“You’ll also notice that at the top of the painting there are lights above the ring and two more lights in the far reaches of the stadium. Bellows didn’t want all that area dark. He wanted to show there was space and distance and he wanted to show where the lighting on both figures is coming from and it works very well. And he has nice little figures in the back all cheering and raising their hands and hats and all those things going on in the ringside to show that everyone is excited about what’s happening.

“Robert Riggs’ painting, The Brown Bomber, takes a little explaining, because this is a violent picture. It is the aftermath of violence. This is really an amazing picture in terms of its composition. Starting with the referee’s outstretched arms, and going clockwise past Louis’s back we see the towel flying into the ring and then the guy who threw in the towel, and then we see the heads and the shoulders of all the people sitting at ringside, which brings us right back to the referee. In other words, it makes a complete oval.

“The title is The Brown Bomber but this painting is not about Joe Louis. This painting is about Max Schmeling!”

“Just off center in the oval, on all fours, is Schmeling. He’s out, completely finished, and Louis is standing over him. If he ever attempts to get up he’s going to be smashed down again. The title is The Brown Bomber but this painting is not about Joe Louis. This painting is about Max Schmeling! The whole thing is about Max Schmeling. He’s in the oval and he’s groping to get up. His head is turned because he wants to see where Louis is and he can’t do anything about it. Look at the people at ringside. They are all looking at him. They are not looking at Louis. Nobody is looking at Louis, including the referee, who is about to stop the fight. This painting is about Max Schmeling. Joe Louis is one of the figures that complete the arc. He’s part of it, but he’s not the main figure in the painting—Schmeling is.

“This is the most violent of the three paintings. Dempsey being knocked out of the ring didn’t hurt him, didn’t bother him. But this one, Schmeling is in agony and there’s no getting away from it.

“Each of these artists had different styles. Flagg paints in a more true to life style. Bellows and Riggs are more stylized and you can see it in everything they do, especially in the heads and figures around the ring and the shapes of the fighters’ bodies. Everything is stylized. But that is the property of the artist. They feel they’re enhancing the subject. An example is Louis’ arm. Riggs paints him with more muscles than Louis ever had. But he wanted that. It shows that Louis had the strength to do what he did, to put Schmeling on all fours on the canvas. He also made Schmeling’s muscles prominent to show he wasn’t just a tomato can. He was a good fighter. He was champion at one time. Louis is not beating some club fighter—this was a champion.”

There you have it, an artist’s take on three magnificent boxing paintings. Sol asked me which one I liked best. Well, here it is almost two weeks later, and I am still trying to decide. All three are so unique and spectacular in their own way. At this point it’s a dead heat. Which one is your favorite?

Mike Silver’s newest book is The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments from the World of Boxing. Available from Amazon.com or publisher’s website: Rowman.com

In Tribute to Wilbert “Skeeter” McClure: From Pug to Ph.D.

August 17, 2020Boxing ArticlesSkeeter McClureMike Silver

Mike Silver

Dr. Wilbert “Skeeter” McClure, the former professional boxer, passed away last week at the age of 81. Between 1958 and 1960, Skeeter McClure won virtually every important national and international amateur boxing championship including Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), Golden Gloves (Chicago and Inter-City), Diamond Belt, Tournament of Champions, and Pan American Games. The crowning achievement to his brilliant amateur career was winning the Olympic Gold Medal in the light-middleweight divisionat the 1960 Olympics in Rome, Italy.

McClure’s roommate at the Olympics was another Gold Medal winner named Cassius Marcellus Clay. At that point, McClure was considered to be a more accomplished boxer than Clay. But whereas Clay, later known as Muhammad Ali, won the professional heavyweight championship in 1964 and became the most recognized face on the planet, McClure’s once promising professional career stagnated, never living up to expectations. One wonders how things might have turned out had McClure, like Clay, been guided by the savvy Angelo Dundee instead of the incompetents with whom he entrusted his professional boxing career.

Skeeter, Cassius Clay, Eddie Crook, Rome 1960

It is to McClure’s everlasting credit that he did not let the terrible mismanagement of his professional boxing career stop him from achieving great success in an entirely new profession. McClure had a college degree in literature and philosophy. After his pro career ended, he returned to school where he earned a master’s degree in counseling and, in 1973, a doctorate in psychology from Detroit’s Wayne State University. The Ohio native joined the teaching staff of Northeastern University in Boston, where he taught courses in counseling and psychology for five years. Over the next 20 years, McClure built a successful private clinical practice. In addition, he operated a consulting firm that provided corporations, non-profit foundations, and police departments with education and training in stress management, conflict resolution, team building, and performance evaluation.

The history of his pro boxing career serves as a primer for how to ruin a brilliant young prospect through appallingly careless matchmaking.

Considering his post-boxing success, one might ask if it makes any difference that Skeeter did not win a professional boxing championship. I believe it absolutely does make a difference. McClure dedicated 17 years of his life to the sacrifice and discipline it takes to master the toughest of all sports. He had it within him not only to win a professional boxing title, but also to achieve all-time great status perhaps equal to or even exceeding that achieved by Muhammad Ali. Bad decisions made by the people he trusted to guide him to a title destroyed those dreams. The history of his pro boxing career serves as a primer for how to ruin a brilliant young prospect through appallingly careless matchmaking.

As an Olympic gold medal winner, McClure would be a hot commodity if he were to turn pro today, especially considering that he was a college graduate. But the scenario in 1960 was quite different from today. An Olympic title, while desirable, did not automatically insure a megabuck promotional contract or a lucrative television deal.

After considering several management offers, McClure signed on with a wealthy Ohio businessman whose hobby was managing professional fighters. This person hired a trainer who had been affiliated with Archie Moore, the great light heavyweight champion. Regrettably for McClure, both the businessman and the trainer proved to be clueless in the ability to make appropriate matches for the young phenom.

McClure was drafted into the Army directly after the Olympics, but he was able to turn pro and fight several times while on leave. He won his ninth straight pro fight June 30, 1962 – a 6-round decision over Harold Richardson at Madison Square Garden. Teddy Brenner, the Garden’s matchmaker, was impressed with McClure’s performance and his sterling amateur background. Television was in need of new faces to fill a weekly schedule calling for almost fifty Garden main events per year. So, with a grand total of nine pro fights (5 KOs) and 39 rounds of professional experience, McClure was signed to fight the South American middleweight champion Farid Salim on August 4, 1962 at Madison Square Garden in front of a nationwide television audience. Salim, a rangy 6’ 2” middleweight had lost only two of forty professional fights.

(Note: The following are comments and direct quotes by McClure from his interview with this author that took place in 1998.)

McClure was excited to be headlining at the world famous arena and wanted to be ready for his first major test as a pro. I asked my trainer: ‘Is he a boxer? Does he have fast hands? What’s he got?’ And the answer I received was: ‘I don’t know.’ What the [expletive]! My first TV fight…10 rounds…and the son-of-a-gun doesn’t know anything about my opponent! No one [today] would do that to a fighter with a Gold Medal.” McClure shook his head in disgust. It was the same thing with everyone else I fought. I’d ask: ‘What has he got?’ Every first round was a surprise.

“McClure moves with the grace of a young Ray Robinson, hits with authority, and fights back furiously when hurt.”

Despite the lack of advance knowledge, the former Olympian, a 12-to-5 underdog, was more than up to the task. He won a unanimous decision. His superlative boxing skills were a revelation to many who witnessed the bout. One reporter wrote: McClure moves with the grace of a young Ray Robinson, hits with authority, and fights back furiously when hurt. Comparing a boxer with only ten pro bouts to Robinson, the greatest fighter who ever lived, was a huge compliment. More experience before taking on top contenders was all that McClure would have needed in order to realize his full potential.

After four more fights, McClure was rated the eighth best middleweight in the world. But it was all happening too fast. There was little respite from one hard match to the next, all against top opposition. One didn’t have to be a boxing expert to know that McClure was being rushed into matches with fighters he should have avoided at that stage of his career. At some point, the boxer must be tested against a quality opponent to see what he’s got, but the timing has to be right. Unfortunately, instead of being handled like a precious diamond in the rough that needed a master craftsman to cut and polish it, McClure was thrown to the lions while he was still learning the ropes as a pro. Considering his spectacular amateur accomplishments and the tremendous promise shown in his early professional bouts, the ruination of that great potential, through no fault of his own, makes Wilbert Skeeter McClure the most poorly managed fighter in the history of the sport.

This is how it evolved: Six weeks after the bout with Farid Salim, McClure returned to his hometown of Toledo, Ohio and won a unanimous 10-round decision over tough Tony Montano, a 37-bout pro who’d competed with several world ranked boxers. Three weeks after the bout with Montano, McClure was back in the Garden meeting 63-bout veteran Gomeo Brennan. Once again displaying fighting spirit and superb boxing smarts, McClure won a hard-fought 10-round decision over a far more experienced opponent. In early 1963, he returned to Toledo to outpoint former welterweight contender Ted Wright, a veteran of 60 professional bouts.

Amazingly, despite his limited professional experience, he was good enough to be competitive with these seasoned veterans, even outpointing them, but every fight was tough. He certainly wasn’t being overprotected, that’s for sure. In fact, in his 33 professional fights, only five opponents had losing records. As if to emphasize this point, in his next fight, on October 18, 1963, McClure was matched against the great former welterweight champion Luis Rodriguez in yet another nationally televised fight from Madison Square Garden.

Rodriguez was a substitute for Jose Gonzales, a granite-chinned contender who six months earlier had withstood the bombs of “Hurricane” Carter and stopped the feared puncher on a cut in the sixth round. When Gonzales was injured in training, he pulled out of the scheduled bout with McClure; Luis replaced him. A bout with Gonzales would have meant another punishing contest for McClure, but taking on Rodriguez made even less sense.

McClure didn’t have to ask about Rodriguez. The great Cuban boxer was a former welterweight champion and one of the ten best fighters in the world. His only losses in 55 bouts were against Emile Griffith and Curtis Cokes. Rodriguez was capable of beating the world’s top welterweights and middleweights. He had scored a stunning ninth-round knockout of middleweight contender Denny Moyer in his most recent fight. Luis had a total of 430 professional rounds compared to McClure’s mere 14 fights and 85 rounds.

McClure knew that he was not ready for Rodriguez. He told his manager and trainer that he thought they were crazy for accepting him as an opponent at this stage of his career. We argued for two days, said McClure. I was just so tired of all this crap. Isolated in a remote New Jersey training camp, the young fighter was fatigued and disgusted. But, his handlers eventually convinced him to accept the match, saying that his weight advantage of nine pounds would give him an edge.

Meeting a fighter of Rodriguez’s stature in his 15^th professional bout was both negligent and stupid. Compare it to the early career of future middleweight champion Marvin Hagler who turned pro after winning the National AAU light-middleweight championship in 1973. In Hagler’s 15^th pro bout, he won a 10-round decision over Sugar Ray Seales, the 1968 Olympic gold medalist. It was Seale’s first defeat in 22 bouts. Hagler’s next two opponents had a combined record of 5-14-3. Another future middleweight champion, Roy Jones Jr., a light middleweight Silver medalist in the 1988 Olympics, had a spectacular amateur record similar to McClure’s. In his 15^th pro bout, Jones KO’d Lester Yarbrough who came into the ring with a 12-16-1 record and would win only one of his next 34 bouts. Neither of these future pro champions faced the type of brutal competition that McClure had to contend with during his first two years as a pro.

Of course it was a forgone conclusion that Skeeter would lose. Once again displaying the heart and talent of a true champion, and despite being dropped for the first time, the overmatched Olympian actually gave Rodriguez a tough fight. The Cuban won a unanimous 10-round decision, but he had to work hard for the victory. Even Rodriguez was impressed. Give that kid another year, he said, and he’ll be champion.

After that fight, Skeeter should have taken a rest and then taken on a series of lesser opponents, while at the same time perfecting his professional skills. Instead, Brenner insisted on a rematch two months later. After all, their first televised fight was exciting and interesting so why not do it again? McClure’s management should have refused the rematch. It is a truism in the unforgiving world of professional boxing that a quick rematch between an inexperienced boxer and an old pro is just asking for trouble. The old pro will use his vast experience to figure out what to do in the rematch while the inexperienced boxer will be at a distinct disadvantage. And that is exactly what happened. Rodriguez adjusted his strategy and concentrated his attack on McClure’s body to slow him up and bring down his guard. In Round 6, Rodriguez dropped McClure for an 8-count with a solid left hook to the jaw. Once again McClure got up and fought his heart out. He was able to win a few rounds but lost another unanimous decision in a punishing fight. Putting McClure into the ring with Luis Rodriguez for his 15^th and 16 fight was not just bad matchmaking, it bordered on criminal negligence.

A young boxer doesn’t walk away from a series of tough and punishing fights without paying a price. If it happens often enough there will come a time in the abused boxer’s professional life when something changes within him. It can happen after one vicious beating, or it can take place over the course of several tough fights with too little time to rest between them. The change can be dramatic, or it can be subtle and unrecognizable except to an experienced trainer or someone close to the boxer. The damage is both physical and psychological. Eventually the law of diminishing returns takes effect as progress ends and potential is blunted.

The boxing portion of this story could very well end here even though Skeeter went on to fight 14 more times over the next four years. Five months after the Rodriguez debacle, there was a 10-round decision loss to future light-heavyweight champion Jose Torres (another Garden fight McClure needed like a hole in the head); only two fights in 1965, and in 1966, a pair of back-to-back 10-rounders spaced two months apart with murderous-hitting middleweight contender Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. McClure lost a decision in the first bout and fought to a draw in the second. The cost of those two fights added to the erosion of this once brilliant prospect. The decline was underscored four months later when he lost a 10-round decision to unrated Harold Richardson, the same fighter he previously had beaten easily. It was McClure’s 24^th professional fight and his fifth loss. Comparisons to Sugar Ray Robinson were long past. He had been put in too deep too early, and sunk.

Yet, it took a while for this proud and intelligent boxer to finally accept the inevitable, to acknowledge that the boxing part of his life was ended. In 1967, after being stopped for the first time in his career by Johnny Smith and then losing a lackluster 10-round decision to England’s Johnny Pritchett, McClure hung up his gloves. His record was 23-7-1 (11 KOs). Three years later, feeling the itch to give it one more try, he had two more fights and then retired for good.

Although a large part of the blame for McClure’s failed boxing career goes to his managers, the person who was most responsible for ruining him was Teddy Brenner, the powerful Madison Square Garden matchmaker.

Although a large part of the blame for McClure’s failed boxing career goes to his managers, the person who was most responsible for ruining him was Teddy Brenner, the powerful Madison Square Garden matchmaker. Both Brenner and Harry Markson, the director of the Garden’s boxing department, were uninterested (or perhaps incapable) of using the resources, reputation, and influence of the world’s most famous arena to its fullest capacity. Developing and nurturing new talent was not a priority with them. There are people who mistakenly hail Brenner as a great matchmaker. The facts do not support that opinion. During his tenure at the Garden (1959 to 1977), Brenner made some good matches, but he did far more damage by destroying the careers of at least a score of very promising young fighters, including McClure, by overmatching them against superior opposition before they were ready. This pattern was repeated far too often. Brenner knew better but just didn’t care. If the result of a match ended up ruining a prospect, so be it. It was of no concern to either Brenner or Markson. Their weekly paychecks arrived whether they put on a good show or not. They would also abuse their power by favoring certain “house fighters” handled by compliant managers who never argued with Brenner’s choice of opponent. Making matters worse, the marketing skills of Brenner and Markson were negligible. The great arena was running on its reputation and interest was dwindling. One time, near the end of their tenure, in a fit of pique they revoked the press privileges of a journalist who dared to criticize one of their awful matches in print. So much for freedom of the press.

Former Lightweight Champion Carlos Ortiz With Skeeter

In those days the prestige of appearing in a main event at Madison Square Garden was second only to winning a world title. Even when matched against an opponent that was all wrong for their fighter, managers were reluctant to turn down a Garden main event. But it didn’t have to be that way. In Los Angeles, during the same period, promoters George Parnassus and Eileen Eaton were carefully developing and nurturing local talent and making the sport hugely popular without benefit of a national television sponsorship. But because this is an article in tribute to Wilbert McClure, I won’t go into further details about the destructive nature of Brenner and Markson’s arrogance and incompetence. Suffice it to say that boxing suffered as a result.

Reminiscing some thirty years later, McClure was philosophical about his ill-starred professional career. I was bitter back in 1967, the then 59-year old grandfather admitted to me. McClure was still handsome and looked twenty years younger. But now I’ve come to terms with it. I believe everything that happened was supposed to be in my life, both before and after. When you think about it, maybe the experience helped me to save some lives. I’m probably a more well-rounded psychologist because of my experience in the [boxing] business.

McClure was not prone to self-pity, nor did he live in the past. His positive attitude helped him to start over in an entirely new field. But boxing was not totally out of his life.

McClure was not prone to self-pity, nor did he live in the past. His positive attitude helped him to start over in an entirely new field. But boxing was not totally out of his life. From 1995 to 1998, he served as chairman of the Massachusetts Boxing Commission where one of his chief priorities was the athletes’ safety. He especially was concerned about over-the hill-boxers who can no longer properly defend themselves yet still are allowed to fight. The boxing community, said McClure, especially the state commissions, ought to have more courage lifting the licenses of fighters who cannot and should not do it anymore. During my tenure as chairman, I was threatened with lawsuits by managers because we suspended those boxers who couldn’t fight anymore.

When asked to evaluate today’s fighters McClure’s response was precise. You cannot become skilled and polished if you are fighting two or three times a year. When you’ve got fighters challenging for a world title with 15 pro fights, you know you’ve got a problem. It makes it difficult to appraise the top boxers of today based on what they have accomplished. It is not scientifically sound, accurate, or fair. I feel sorry for Roy Jones Jr. because he hasn’t fought a great or even a very skillful opponent yet. So he cannot be placed in the pantheon of great middleweights because it takes great opponents to make great fighters.

McClure also said that welterweight champ Oscar de La Hoya, although still a work in progress, was lucky that there were no Kid Gavilans around to test him. Put Oscar in the ring with Gavilan when he was champion, or a Ray Robinson when he was champ or a Tony Zale. Those guys were tough, man. There isn’t any way in the damn world you’re going to hurt them…and they will hurt you badly. It is a lesson that Skeeter learned the hard way.

Wilbert “Skeeter” McClure, a gracious and intelligent man, made his mark both inside and outside of the boxing ring. But most importantly, he lived his life with meaning and purpose.

Mike Silver’s newest book is The Night the Referee Hit Back: Memorable Moments from the World of Boxing. Available from Amazon.com or publisher’s website: Rowman.com:

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In Tribute to Wilbert “Skeeter” McClure: From Pug to Ph.D.