The letter is signed - "Tim Lueckenhoff, President - Association of Boxing Commissions".

Tremendous news, to say the least - Jack Kerns will be assisting in setting the agenda for the next meeting.

It's just so laughable.

If you're like me, you have been wondering why in the world an organization like the Association of Boxing Commissions, which would aspire to respectability, would allow for Kentucky commission chairman Jack Kerns to stay on as a First Vice-President and member of the Executive Board.

The answer may lie in incidents that have taken place within the jurisdictions of some of the other members of the board.

In the last few years, there have been ring tragedies of one kind or another associated with at least five of the eight members of the ABC's Board of Directors. Of course, some of them have been unforeseen - including that of Pedro Alcazar, who collapsed and died, apparently without explanation, two days after fighting for the WBO super-flyweight title in Las Vegas (Marc Ratner's jurisdiction).

Others are borderline in nature - for example, in Oklahoma, which is overseen by Steve Bayshore, the Secretary of the ABC, a junior middleweight named Dyirell Crayton had to undergo emergency brain surgery after being knocked out in a fight against Stephan Pryor on December 14, 2001. Proper medical personnel were on the scene at Tulsa's Creek Nation Bingo, but there is legitimate doubt as to whether the fight should have been approved.

Pryor, the son of former junior welterweight champion Aaron Pryor, did not have a big reputation as a puncher, and sported just a 5-1 record. But Crayton had lost nine of his last ten fights, and in a bout eight months earlier against undefeated Israel Escandon, he was knocked unconscious for over 30 seconds. In the interim, he had also been suspended from Texas after a four-round stoppage loss to former Olympian Dante Craig.

On January 23 of 2000, in Venice Beach, Fla. - within the territory of ABC Vice-President Chris Meffert, Emiliano Valdez, a junior welterweight out of the Dominican Republic by way of Pahokee, Fla., went into a coma after a tenth-round KO loss to Teddy Reid. On March 23 of this year, Valdez died. The fight was competitive, as it should have been - Reid has gone on to win NABF titles at 140 and 147 pounds, and Valdez had a 10-2-1 record going into that bout, with losses only to then-undefeated Kassim Ouma and Kofi Jantuah.

At the time, there were arguments as to whether referee Brian Garry should have stopped the fight earlier, especially as Valdez seemed dazed in the fifth round and had been staggered on other occasions afterward. And criticism also arose about Valdez' trainer, Nelson Lopez, who sensed his fighter was badly hurt, but did not throw in the towel.

"How could I stop the fight?", Lopez told reporters. "They would have said, `It's ridiculous, a trainer bringing a fighter and not letting him fight.' I don't want anyone to get hurt, but that's the sport we choose."

Subsequently, the Florida commission became aware of another of Lopez' fighters - an amateur named Elijah Fenwick, who had died just a week before the Valdez fight, from injuries that were suffered in a January 11 sparring session at Lopez' Pahokee gym. In an astonishing revelation, it surfaced that Fenwick had a history of seizures, and that he had been hit in the head with a baseball bat before moving to Florida from Michigan. Lopez said he had no idea of Fenwick's history.

Colorado's Joe Mason, one of the ABC's regional directors, met with some misfortune in the very first fight card his commission had charge of.

This was the substance of a wire story published on April 19, 2001:

"PUEBLO, Colo. -- A boxer who collapsed from a brain injury after winning his first pro bout was in critical, unstable condition Thursday, a hospital spokeswoman said.

Cresencio Mercado, 19, won the featherweight match with a first-round knockout Saturday night and climbed on top of the ring ropes, waving his arms in celebration. But when he returned to his corner, his legs started shaking and he fell to the canvas.

Mercado, a former state Golden Gloves champion, sustained a brain injury and was listed in critical, unstable condition at Parkview Medical Center, spokeswoman Tressa Panepinto said.

Originally from Zacatecas, Mexico, Mercado is the sixth of seven brothers and is well known in Pueblo. He attended Central High School last year."

Two days later, Mercado died of a brain hemorrhage.

Once again, we weren't dealing with a fighter who, on the surface, was not capable - Mercado was a good amateur, who had lost in the quarterfinals to Brian Viloria in the U.S. Amateur Boxing Championships in 1999.

It's not that we find any particular fault with these commissions. But it would offer a sufficient explanation if there were, say, a certain level of sensitivity to the kind of non-enforcement of safety laws that has put Kerns squarely in the hot seat.

Lueckenhoff, the ABC president, may have a higher level of sensitivity than anyone.

In Missouri, where Lueckenhoff serves as director of the commission, two fighters have met with tragedy in the ring - one of them died, the other suffered extensive brain damage.

The fatality involved Randie Carver, a world-class light heavyweight who died as a result of injuries sustained in a foul-filled September 1999 bout in Kansas City against Kabary Salem. Subsequent to that fight, questions were raised - originally by Salem's manager, Scott Massoud, and later seconded by others - about the role played by Ross Strada, the referee.

Massoud claimed that a close personal relationship between Strada and Carver prompted the referee to let the fight go much longer than it should have.

"If he had stopped the fight and Randie lost, due to the stoppage, he would have been blamed for his loss," Massoud told the Associated Press. "And that's something the referee didn't want. I'm not bad-mouthing (Strada), but we could've been out of there a lot sooner."

A lawsuit later filed by Carver's family names Strada as a defendant. And despite working on behalf of a state regulatory agency, Strada was in no way protected by state law when it came to liability - a fact he wasn't made aware of at the time.The state of Missouri has not stepped forward to offer him any protection whatsoever. Obviously, that's not a good message to send when your state's administrator is head of the national trade organization. But such is the way of boxing regulation. And it's not too unusual. Officials usually have to go to an outside agency, such as the National Association of Sports Officials, to get any insurance coverage at all.

The other Missouri situation brings its own degree of intrigue, for different reasons.

Fernando Ibarra Maldonado, a bantamweight, was knocked out in the sixth round of a fight on January 29, 1999 (just 7-1/2 months before Carver) against Thailand's Ratanachai Sor Vorapin, in a fight which took place at the Regal Riverfront Hotel in downtown St. Louis. Maldonado was able to get up and out of the ring but was unaccompanied by any medical personnel on the way to his dressing room. No doctor came back to examine him, as might be considered routine, in order to determine the extent of injury. A few minutes later, he collapsed, and it took a full THIRTY-FOUR minutes to get him to the hospital, simply because there was no ambulance on the premises.

Maldonado suffered a torn vein in his brain, which caused swelling and permanent brain damage. He fell into a coma, and though he thankfully survived, he had to spend two months in the hospital before being released. He later sued Gateway Holdings, owner of the Regal Riverfront Hotel, because it had a contract with the promoter requiring that an ambulance be present, and apparently the hotel did not make sure that the clause was enforced.

It was the contention of Maldonado's attorneys that had an ambulance been available, intra-cranial pressure would have been relieved and brain damage may have been prevented.

The week-long trial resulted in a $41.1 million judgment for Maldonado, the largest in Missouri for the year up to that time (until the same firm won a bigger judgment against Bridgestone). However, since the judge failed to adequately instruct the jurors on the matter of punitive damages, it was taken away, and the plaintiff (Maldonado) held onto $13.7 in compensatory damages, a figure that is now on appeal.

Why wasn't the Missouri "Office of Athletics" sued as well? Good question. The answer is that Missouri did not require that an ambulance be present for safety purposes at a professional fight, so therefore they weren't violating state law in the course of their own supervision.

"From the day I started working on this case, I thought that was outrageous," said John Simon, who served as lead attorney for Maldonado. "I was shocked to hear that the ambulance wasn't a requirement."

That's correct - the commission headed by Tim Lueckenhoff, who now also heads the ABC, didn't feel it important enough to mandate an ambulance, for reasons that, in part, can be interpreted from Lueckenhoff's testimony at the trial, which he entered on behalf of the defense.

"He (Lueckenhoff) testified in court that it was a matter of money; that there were local, small promoters who couldn't afford to pay a few hundred bucks for an ambulance on site," said Simon.

Fortunately for Lueckenhoff, there were Emergency Medical Technicians (EMT's) on the scene, so there was no violation of the Professional Boxer Safety Act on the part of his commission.

But it's a poor example nonetheless.

Does Missouri require an ambulance NOW? Sure it does.

What's sad is that it seemed to take an incident like this to persuade Missouri to change its rules to promote safety. Of course, that's not much different than the way it unfolded in Kentucky, is it?

It had been reported that Maldonado's manager had been suspended in Mexico after another of his fighters died in the ring - that fact may or may not be material to the discussion. Mexican suspensions are generally not recognized by commissions in the United States.

What IS important is that the wisdom of approving this match in the first place must be questioned. Maldonado, who fought under the name Francisco Ibarra, came into the fight with a record of 5-3-3 with no knockouts, and only 47 rounds of professional experience. The furthest he had gone in a fight was six rounds. He had also been matched questionably just a couple of months earlier, against contender Will Grigsby, in a fight that ended in a one-round technical draw.

By contrast, his opponent, Sor Vorapin, sported a 35-3 record, with 303 professional rounds under his belt. He fought Mark Johnson for the IBF 115-pound title in his very next fight and subsequently challenged Tim Austin for the IBF bantamweight crown.

Clearly two completely different classes of fighter in the ring.

Clearly a lack of proper safety provisions present at the site of a professional show, regardless of the prevailing law.

Clearly a tragic result.

Clearly something that could have been avoided.

Clearly an awful example being set.

Clearly an item for the "agenda" when the ABC meets again.

Go ahead and put THAT in your survey.

fightpage@totalaction.com

Copyright 2002 Total Action Inc.

“Put it all on Roy Jones Jr.,’’ I’m telling my buddy. “Get me the best odds you can.’’

Unfortunately, even the best odds aren’t going to make Woods a rich man. Still, it’s something good coming out of something bad.

Then, if I’m still Clinton Woods, I’m going to go out and fight the fight of my life, try everything I can to become the undisputed light-heavyweight champion of the world.

If by some crazy miracle I win, I’m going to become a very wealthy man my next fight.

I’ll be able to pay everyone back with huge bonuses.

If I lose, which is almost as close to a sure thing as tomorrow’s sunrise, I collect my purse along with my meager gambling profits and no one gets hurt. I go back home to Sheffield, England, buy a round or two for the boys in the pub and talk about my exciting trip to Portland, Ore., and my one-and-only shot at the big time.

It’s one way Woods will come out of this Saturday-night fiasco with something more than his head in his hands.

A blue-collar guy from the Old Country, Woods is 32-1 with 19 knockouts, which somehow makes him the mandatory sacrifice to Jones, the guy with all the belts, all the money and all the excuses.

How Woods got to be the mandatory challenger is something you don’t want the wife or kids to hear. It’s a sordid tale about money and greed and poor guys from places like Australia and England getting fattened up before getting fed to a bored lion.

Jones (46-1, 37 KOs) himself isn’t too sure what Woods is doing in Portland getting ready to fight for the title. On a conference call Monday, he hinted that Woods might not be his toughest opponent to date.

“Do I think he’s the guy I should be fighting? No,’’ Jones said. “I don’t think he did a thing to deserve to fight me. I don’t know why he’s ranked No. 1, but he is.’’

So Jones said he has to fight him. It’s boxing’s way. He doesn’t want to go to court.

The truth is, Jones can fight anyone he wants. He doesn’t need all those belts to earn his place in history, and he sure doesn’t need the money. If he’s looking to leave a legacy behind him, he’s not going to do it fighting guys like Clinton Woods
or Glenn Kelly.

While he’s bickering over whether he gets paid $6 million or $10 million for a fight - or demanding $25 million to fight Dariusz Michalczewski in Germany - his own history is quietly becoming a short story instead of a great novel. Ten years from now, no one’s going to think of Roy Jones and remember how much money he made when he fought Clinton Woods. They’re going to look back and wonder why he fought him in the first place, why he wasn’t fighting guys like Michalczewski or Vassily Jirov or Antonio Tarver or even Bernard Hopkins in a rematch. They’re going to wonder why money became such an issue for someone who had so much of it.

Sure, the fight game is a business, but it’s pretty tough to buy your way into boxing history. Besides, no one cares how rich Jones is. We just want to see if he's as good as he was back when he was fighting for more than just money..

If you’re not into tragicomedy, Saturday’s fight card on HBO won’t be a total loss. On the undercard, Bronco McKart (45-3, 29 KOs) will fight Winky Wright (43-3, 25 KOs) for Wright’s IBF junior middleweight title. It’s the third time the two will have fought, Wright winning the first two fights.

Blowouts are expected in each game. And you know what? They're all probably going to be more competitive than the bout between undisputed light heavyweight champion Roy Jones and his WBC mis-mandatory challenger Clinton Woods. You see, Jones must get his fight itinerary
done by the Kansas St. athletic director. Don't believe me? Just look at his last several bouts: Glenn Kelly, Julio Gonzalez and Derrick Harmon. All were heavy underdogs but Woods, who comes out of Sheffield,  England, takes the cake. Noted odds-maker Herb Lambeck lists Woods as a 100-1 underdog.

Woods comes in with a ledger of 32-1, but 17 of those wins have come against fighters who's record is at .500 or below. He is the very definition of a built-up fighter whose management has successfully been allowed to exploit the corrupt rankings system. This time the WBC is the culprit and we shouldn't be surprised. For so long Jose Suliaman has been protecting his big money champions by feeding them an endless list of no-hopers to feast on. While the Oscar De La Hoya's get Patrick Charpentier as their mandatory challenger,  Stevie Johnston's would get legitimate tough guys like Cesar Bazan.

It's pretty clear, if you're a marquee money maker,  you get free rides. If you're not, well, we'll just find somebody who can be to defeat you.

It's another farce being perpetrated by not only the WBC but Roy Jones himself, who pockets right around $4 million for what amounts to a highly glorified sparring session. I give Jones this, he's a great manager. Anyone that can get that much money for that easy of a fight has to be doing something right. But just don't call him an all-time great, ok?

He's basically had one big fight (against James Toney in 1994) and since then has avoided any live bodies that could have given him trouble. And this talk of him being up there with the likes of Archie Moore,  Ezzard Charles, and Bob Foster amongst the all-timers at light heavyweight? Puuuuh-leeeeze. If you saw Jones struggle with Montell Griffin the first time out or against a one-armed Eric Harding for nine rounds, to say that would be straight out sacrilege. And let's be honest here, I don't see any Yaqui Lopez's or even any Mike Rossmans around as contenders.

Yes, some of his apologists will argue that he is a victim of circumstances and such. But, on the flip side, he MADE those circumstances all too prevalent.
Remember it was he, himself that stated he would make the Dariusz Michalczewski fight happen, it was he, that stated he would go up to heavyweight and fight Buster Douglas in 1998, and now he's using protracted negotiations with Bernard Hopkins and talk of a bout with John Ruiz to fight the likes of Clinton Woods.
It'll be the same old song and dance after he disposes of Woods. While Larry Merchant of HBO grills him,  Jones will boast he only did this fight because he had to and that bigger and better things are on the way.

It'll sound like the same broken record to me.

DESERVING

Now, if Jones should face his IBF mandatory next,  Antonio Tarver, nobody should raise a protest about that bout. Tarver, in his last four bouts has downed Lincoln Carter, Chris Johnson, Reggie Johnson and then gained revenge on Eric Harding this past July for the IBF light heavyweight title eliminator. No, it may not be the Mt. Rushmore of 175-pounders, but I will say this, in the context of today’s game, it's a pretty impressive run and all the above-mentioned names were
ranked within the top 10.

And you know what, just compare those last four names to the last four guys Jones has defeated: Kelly, Julio Gonzalez, Derrick Harmon and Harding.

THE BUDDY SYSTEM

One of the reason why Tarver has improved so much recently is that he hooked up with Buddy McGirt. McGirt, once a highly respected welterweight champion,  is quickly earning a rep as one of the game's premiere teachers and trainers.

“Tremendous knowledge and experience," says Tarver of his trainer." The guy has walked in my footsteps. I'm trying to walk in his. Buddy McGirt is a tremendous trainer; he's not a one-dimensional trainer, that's what I love about him. I mean, he takes each fighter and maximizes their positives and he works hard on their negatives as far as being a complete boxer."

BY THE WAY

Does Tarver know who Woods is?

" Unfortunately, not," said Tarver with a chuckle." I'm like the rest of the boxing world. But hopefully he can get it over with quick and move onto the next stage."

TAPIA TRAINER

As I'm writing this, Johnny Tapia is still awaiting word from Al Mitchell on whether Mitchell will train Tapia for his November 2nd date against Marco Antonio Barrera.

Regardless of who's in his corner that night, it's been evident for a long time that Tapia is one of these guys that trains himself. Just wind him up and go. He's a born fighter, and will be one to the day he dies. When you're in his corner what you're really doing his working as his pit crew, just setting down his stool, cleaning out his mouth-piece, getting him some water and then getting out of the way.

But I will say this, if there's anybody that can give you an honest assessment of all the trainers out there today, it's gotta be Tapia. After all, it seems like he's worked with every single one of them- at least twice.

HEAVYWEIGHTS

With the announcement that Lennox Lewis will be dropping his IBF belt, Chris Byrd and Evander Holyfield will duke it out for the vacant title, most likely in December on HBO.

Also, it looks like Wladimir Klitschko could be facing Jameel McCline later this year.

As for Lewis, he will most likely take on his WBC mandatory Vitali Klitschko next.

But if you train very hard and fight guys like “Sugar” Ray Robinson... sex or no sex there is a very good chance you may find yourself kissing the canvas.” The “Raging Bull” looked around and said: “I fought ‘Sugar’ Ray so many times (they fought six times) it’s a wonder I didn’t develop diabetes.” Floyd laughed, then he spoke. “I was quite aware of Cus’ philosophy,” he said of our late former boxing manager, looking at me. “But real or mental, I felt my legs tired and weak whenever I sparred in the gym or fought in the ring after having sex two or three days before.” “One thing I could say,” I snapped, “I’m no psychiatrist but I’m almost sure that athletes are more prone to suffer from psychosomatic conditions than ordinary people.”

“Psycho what?” said Rocky, making a face.

“You know,” I said, “when la testa plays tricks on you... and you, conveniently, allows the mind to make excuses for you.” Rocky smiled, shaking his head. “You mean,” he said, showing interest in the subject, “that a fighter is in trouble when his mind goes blank?”

“To the contrary,” said Patterson. “You get into serious trouble when –during a heated exchange- the mind starts to ask questions about your behavior prior to the fight.” LaMotta and Chuck nodded simultaneously as Patterson, surprisingly, took the lead. “That’s why many times we see a fighter doing quite well in the ring,” he said, “hitting the other guy almost at will and suddenly, after a couple of rounds of failing to put his rival down or out, he starts to think about the wrong things he did during training.

“Yeah,” interrupted LaMotta, “like missing a couple of days of training; messing around with his girlfriend or wife a few days before fight time; having a “wet dream,” or being too horny to sleep properly for a day or two while in training...” “That’s what a prizefighter’s mind does,” I interjected. “It searches for excuses to justify his frustration.” “Then,” Floyd continued, “the fight starts to switch. The guy who is winning withdraws from his attacks to ‘reserve energy’ for later use, provoking the bout to change direction.”

Prizefighters who pose great confidence in their physical prowess usually become the main targets for these mental maladies. A first encounter with an experienced boxer who is not too accomplished but is hard to hit with clean punches, for example, may forced a strong, KO artist to the painful state of mind of feeling exhausted and “lacking power” prematurely. “Why,” the boxer usually asks himself, “I knock everybody out with this punch but I can’t with this sonofabitch?”

He’s not aware that experienced boxers are very difficult to hit with clean punches to sensitive areas, as it is with beginners. Unaware of such specifics, he begins to lose confidence in himself, and becomes an easy pray to a psychosomatic condition. He becomes impaired by his mind, not his physicality.

“In the course of a fight, however,” I said, “usually during the first few rounds after touching gloves, seasoned boxers get a pretty good idea as to the outcome of the bout.”

“True,” said Patterson, “but that is if they have been nice, clean guys during training. For if you train hard and responsibly your confidence surge to a maximum.” “‘Nice and clean’ means,” I asked, “no sex?” Floyd smiled timidly. “Like some famous, big shot once said,” he answered, “‘One man’s meat, another’s poison is.’”

After the show we were asked to do a “public service announcement” for the station. We all agreed. It went this way: “My name is so and so. It’s 10:00 pm. Do you know where your children are?”

I did it in four “takes.” Wepner in four. Floyd in three. LaMotta in eleven.

And after twenty seven “takes” Mr. Graziano -whom we thought extinguished his thirst with one beer too many during the program- was still trying to say his name.

Floyd said: “Let’s go. This guy had too much sex while preparing for this program.

And this bias has been confirmed during the hearings the Senate has had regarding the legislation, where there is hardly a voice present to stand up for the other side when the discussion turns to the rampant "exploitation of fighters".

I don't think I'm being unfair when I say it seems as if John McCain's staff invited Bernard Hopkins, Roy Jones, and a few other fighters into a conference room, asked them what should be in the bill, and kept everyone else in the business out of the dialogue.

Nothing wrong with the concept of protecting fighters. I'm obviously all for it.

But the result of this slanted view, as you know if you've been reading this comprehensive look inside the boxing industry, is legislation that is going to be ineffective at best, and harmful at worst. Either way, it simply doesn't properly reflect the state of affairs in this industry, because the people who have drafted it have not consulted with the kind of people who can give them a proper, objective, intelligent overview of it. And that's no one's fault but their own.

But I think, if for no other reason than so that no one goes off half-cocked, that before we go any further in exploring what should be done about promoters, that we establish something which is absolutely fundamental to the discussion.

Whether anyone likes it or not, the role of the promoter is the lifeblood of boxing. Nothing - and I mean NOTHING - in this business ever happens without a promoter somewhere deciding to take a step forward and put on a show.

So those people in Washington who have contemplated the various ways of prejudicing the promoter in favor of the boxer, whether it is justifiable or not, should keep this one fact in mind - when you cripple the promoters, you run the very real risk of crippling the business.

And I know there are a whole legion of people out there who think the networks need to be licensed as promoters. I hear it all the time - THE NETWORKS ARE PROMOTERS. An argument, I guess, can be crafted in support of this, depending on the kind of definition you want to use for "promoter". Should they be licensed? Quite possibly, yes. And that will be a subject we're to tackle later on. But are they promoters, in either the traditionally-accepted sense or the real-world sense that we outlined for you in the previous chapter? Not really.

When compared to promoters, as we look at them in terms of the traditional view, networks don't arrange for the box office, or the ring setup; they don't rent venues, they don't make undercard fights. They don't buy ads in the local paper. They don't depend in any way, shape, or form on a live gate to exist. And if we're comparing networks to the "promoter as packager" - they don't construct the package but in fact have the packages pitched to THEM, don't they? And networks generally don't get involved with a fighter until he is already developed to some extent - promoters are the ones who invest the money to develop the fighter.

When we explore issues regarding promoters, we are not lashing out against promoters in general; we ARE, however, going to take issue - strongly - with promoters who abuse the power they have as a result of their promotional agreements, who blatantly rob money from fighters, who don't fulfill the terms of their contracts, who participate in false advertising, who succeed in business by bribing people from the sanctioning bodies.

Other than that, I don't really have a problem with them, and I'm not being facetious. I don't really blame promoters for taking some liberties here or there - they're just playing the game within whatever conditions the current rules allow. If regulators and legislators haven't proven capable of establishing laws that would curtail certain activities and govern certain specific business practices, whose fault is that? And who can really blame a promoter for taking advantage of the overall state of chaos?

The stars you see and appreciate on television - people like Oscar De La Hoya, Shane Mosley, Fernando Vargas, Felix Trinidad, Floyd Mayweather, even Bernard Hopkins and Lennox Lewis - didn't get where they are all by themselves. No, they weren't completely manufactured, but their value has no doubt been enhanced by promoters who knew what they were doing.

The manner in which promotional contracts should be dealt with is going to be a subject for succeeding chapters in this text - you can rest assured of that. But for now, let me say that if you hinder the ability of promoters to contract with fighters, you may very well risk removing all the incentive from promoters to build, nurture, and develop the careers of fighters, many of whom will go on to become gate and TV attractions who help to feed this business.

And let me dispel another notion the general public - and fighters as well - have about promoters. I can't tell you how many times I have heard the quote, "They're making so much money off us". Well, through the years I have seen enough of the promotional end of this industry to know better. I'm sitting here thinking about all the guys who put on a show and worked their asses off for one, two, three months, only to wind up losing money at the end of it, and I'm wondering if any of you out there would like to try that on for size.

Ask yourself this question - if making money at promoting fights is such a slam dunk proposition, why doesn't every manager who wants to build a fighter's record simply find someone to "beard" for a series of promotions, rather than sign away rights to a promoter right from the start of their fighter's career? And why isn't there at least one successful fight club in every Top 100 market in the United States?

And if you think having television constitutes such an absolute a guarantee of making money on a fight show, think again. That's not the reality - not all the time, anyway. I've seen it, so no one has to tell me differently.

Are there promoters who go into shows with no risk, who in effect have their money made irregardless of their ability to sell tickets? Absolutely.

But what gets lost in all of that is the money that is invested in the development of a fighter, during that period of time when it makes no difference to anyone but the fighter's connections and the promoter himself that he is on a fight card. Consider what the "opportunity cost" of that is.

It's clear that there is more than what can be seen on the surface, isn't there?

So doesn't it make sense to put the narrow perspective on the shelf and undertake a much more objective analysis of this whole thing?

Certainly, we'll admonish the promoter when he's wrong, but make no mistake about it - we need him, and the role he fills, and he needs to be appreciated at least to a certain degree when implementing any responsible steps in the direction of boxing reform.

fightpage@totalaction.com

Copyright 2002 Total Action Inc.

Let's say the fighter wins ten bouts in a row, then loses a couple of fights. Well, at that point the fighter may have lost much of his usefulness to the promoter as far as his status as a prospect is concerned. And his value as an "opponent" may be marginal at best, especially if he hasn't reached the ten-round level yet. The promoter can cut the fighter loose, but then he's out some money without ever having a chance to make it back - and that figure may be a substantial amount, depending on what the pre-established minimums in the contract was, not to mention any bonus money that was paid.

That particular promoter takes a loss on the development of a fighter.

By the same token, when the fighter WINS 10-15 fights or more, the promoter has still made a cash outlay. And since networks don't generally "buy" fighters who are not at the main event level, there has been no direct return on that investment yet.

When it's time for that fighter to finally make a payday, often fighting in a network main event or a semi-final on another promoter's card, an opportunity presents itself. And at that point the promoter, who has brought the fighter along, may want to share somehow in that payday in order to recoup his investment.

Such a pursuit is perfectly understandable, given the circumstances.

As we've mentioned, the way things exist now, that kind of thing is quite possible. The promoter has the latitude to negotiate a "promotional fee", i.e., a side deal, in exchange for releasing his fighter to engage in the bout. And because in almost all cases the promoter, by virtue of his contract, has the exclusive right to the services of the fighter, he's got all the leverage in the world. The fighter doesn't know the figures, or if in fact a side deal has been cut at all.

At this point in time the deal can go in one direction or another. This is where the greedier promoters will look to make that investment back in one fell swoop, and then some, often making more money on the deal than the fighter himself.

And so the question becomes - what are we going to do about it?

Well, one idea is to require that each and every one of these side deals be disclosed, which would require little more than an understanding of Federal law on the part of the commissions.

Section 13, Paragraph (b) of the Muhammad Ali Boxing Reform Act states that:

"A promoter shall not be entitled to receive any compensation directly or indirectly in connection with a boxing match until it provides to the boxer it promotes -

(1) the amounts of any compensation or consideration that a promoter has contracted to receive from such match"

This little piece of law is simple, but at the same time it would seem to be pretty clear, IF it's enforced.

Certainly when a promoter makes a side deal for the fighter's services, it constitutes compensation, whether it is direct OR indirect. And even if it is a handshake deal between promoters, it would clearly fall within the scope of this law because it involves an offer and acceptance, with consideration, and therefore is a contract.

Okay - so we've established that the practice exists. But unlike most people, I'm not here to assert that these agreements be made known to the fighter as a means of keeping promotional fees OUT OF the hands of promoters, but rather, to ensure that there is a sense of order to these deals - that they are accepted as a normal course of doing business, operating on the principle that you have to know what you're working with in order to effectively address it.

Toward that end, here are some suggestions - all of which apply to cases where a promoter is placing one of his fighters on ANOTHER promoter's card:

* Promotional contracts would be recognized in every jurisdiction, or by the national commission, whichever is going to vested with the authority on these matters, so that (a) they are not summarily dismissed as being invalid, and (b) the promoter can at least have the opportunity to assert his rights.

* A database would be established in which anyone with a promotional contract on a fighter would put it on file with a central location, so that this information can be easily accessed by all jurisdictions.

* Anyone who is going to seek recognition as a "promoter", for the purposes of realizing a promotional fee, would be required to have his promotional contract on file with the aforementioned database, or, in the absence of one, with the appropriate jurisdiction, and be licensed - as either a promoter or an "adjunct promoter", which in effect means that he is not staging a show itself, but intends to exercise certain rights as a promoter. It follows that he would have to make any disclosures that would be required by the Federal law and those of the local jurisdiction.

* All monies - and that means any network rights fees, the purses for main event fighters, the proposed "promotional fees", and even perhaps casino site fees - be revealed, so that the fighter, and the local or national jurisdiction, has access to them. That way the fighter has more information at his disposal with which to bargain with.

* When the promoter exacts a "promotional fee" out of another promoter in order to release his fighter on a one-time basis, it would not be allowed to exceed more than a certain pre-determined percentage of the total amount that is AVAILABLE for that particular fighter's purse.

* If the promoter wants to take an amount greater than that percentage, he can file, for lack of a better word, a "grievance", in which he will make a case for justification. Any number of extraneous circumstances, including sizable loans, excessive expenses directly related to the fighter, or provisions in the promotional agreement itself could lead to the filing of such a motion.

* In cases where in fact the promoter has negotiated the purse of a fighter, the fighter would have an advocate of some sort (manager, lawyer, agent) with no connection to the promoter present at such a negotiation, or at the very least, apprised of what is going on.

* Perhaps the fighter would be allowed to negotiate directly with another promoter for a particular fight, with the stipulation that the promoter with whom he has a contract is entitled to the approval of the opponent and would be entitled to a percentage of what that final purse figure is.

* Any Federal law that would serve to govern the promotional contract be constructed so as to override that of local jurisdictions; after all, some jurisdictions specifically preclude the promoter from deriving a financial benefit - directly or indirectly - in connection with a fighter's services.

So, you say, how do we know that promoters aren't negotiating secret side deals ON TOP OF the side deals they're already making with each other, for purposes of circumventing the law?

Well, that's why we call this process REGULATION. Somewhere along the line commissioners are going to have to take some initiative to ensure that the law is followed.

Gee - what a novel idea.

fightpage@totalaction.com

Copyright 2002 Total Action Inc.

As we discussed the motif of the show, LaMotta, and Rocky already had a can of beer in hand. Patterson, Wepner and I were sipping on soda and munching on some wonderful hors d’oeuvre. When asked if we understood the order of things to come in the show, we all nodded our heads, laughing. Indeed, we were not believed.

From the beginning, I thought this would be an afternoon of great fun. Patterson was naturally shy and withdrawn, LaMotta was the exact opposite, Rocky was not very eloquent but loved to talk, and Wepner seemed too sober-minded for the type of interview I was expecting.

In any case, soon enough, with miniscule microphones pinned to our lapel, we found ourselves seating comfortably around a round table with plenty food and drinks and three TV cameras moving around us. Then, suddenly, the show began... live!

When asked why we had selected boxing as the way to earn our living, Rocky, LaMotta, Floyd and “The Bleeder,” each offered a reason connected to poverty and a difficult social upbringing. At the time, already experienced with government and community work, I had decided never to adopt a “victim mode” in order to justify my life as a prizefighter.

So my answer didn’t match any of my ex-colleagues’. “I became a prizefighter,” I said, “because I didn’t want to be hurt.” We all laughed, including the host, for we knew it was a wise-crack answer. “Hey,” I continued, but this time in a serious tone, “a person gets to the top induced by smartness, sensitivity and character. If you are poor, abused and an orphan, but stupid, your chances to be successful at anything is almost null. But if you are all those things and smart and determined, then you may have a better chance at reaching great heights.”

Myself? I had many good choices available when I reached adolescence. My father had his own prosperous trucking business in Puerto Rico and was absolutely fair and generous with his five sons and two daughters. He wanted everyone of his off-springs to go to college. We all made it to High School, but only two finished college -I wasn’t one of them. For I selected boxing when I joined the Army at 18, simply because since childhood and inspired by Joe Louis, “Sugar” Ray Robinson and Willie Pep- I idolized one-to-one competition. And after watching these three super champions in fight films over and over, I wanted to be a boxer.

They were the reason why I loved to street-fight in Playa de Ponce, the barrio where I was born and raised in Puerto Rico. Now, around the table in a New York TV studio, every time we had a break, Floyd, Chuck and I munched on something solid while Rocky and Jake sipped on beer. “Were you guys always in shape,” the host wanted to know at one point, “or did you engage in female circumstances once in a while?” We smiled and looked at each other confused. I decided to answer the question.

“If we looked at women during the free time we enjoyed as we trained for a fight,” I said, “and were lucky enough to score, then we had no problem. But if we missed training or resting periods in order to chase them, then we were definitively asking for trouble.” “Not me,” Floyd butted in. “I could never be with a woman during training.”

“Why?” the host wanted to know.

“Because my knees would get very weak,” Floyd said looking down. “My opinion is based on personal experience.”

“Sex,” I asked surprised, “weakens your knees?”

“How do you make sex?” Graziano wanted to know. “Running?”

“Well,” Floyd responded shyly but assuredly, “I don’t know what sex does to you. But it makes my knees and my boxing spirit very, very weak.”

Of course, I didn’t feel like contradicting Floyd right then and there, but I was amazed with his statement. After all, we were both managed by Cus D’Amato, who had one set of rules for everyone he trained. And Cus taught each and everyone of his good fighters that sex could be convenient for athletes as long as it didn’t interfere with their training.

“I guess,” Floyd continued, “that sex affects different people in different ways.”

“Well,” I said, “most champions and top contenders I know feel more comfortable having sex during training than not having it at all. What do you say to that?”

“Like I said before,” Floyd quipped succinctly, “I guess it works differently on different people.”

Graciano bumped in and said: “Well, I couldn’t control myself when it came to women. So, I always sneaked out. And I won many more fights than I lost. So, I guess sex worked for me.” (He had a record of 83 fights,10 losses and 6 draws, scoring 52 KOs in the process.)

“I hear mediocre boxers talk all the time about the lousy effects they got in the ring after sleeping with a woman days before a fight,” said Chuck, chuckling, “but most of them had awful records. So I figure they used sex as the excuse for their failures.

“But the truth of the matter is that I know plenty of winners... top contenders, who never hesitate to engage in sex any time they got the chance,”  the “Bleeder” concluded.

If you were looking for an excuse to not like him, you didn’t find one. He never gave you an opening, never raised his voice or cursed God or made foolish threats against the man he doesn’t seem to understand.

Instead, Oscar De La Hoya sounded calm and ready to fight, a guy on a personal mission who has already settled up with his own doubts and insecurities, put them behind him and out of his mind. All he has to do now is what comes naturally.

What has always come naturally.

When he faces Fernando Vargas on Sept. 14 at the Mandalay Bay Events Center in Las Vegas, he'll be in shape, he’ll be focused and he’ll be ready to do whatever it takes to beat Vargas and move on.

At least that’s what he told us on a conference call earlier this week from his training camp in Big Bear, CA.

“These are my last fights, the defining moments of my career,’’ he said. “And I want to go out with a bang.’’

To go out with the bang, he needs to beat the two men who beat him. He wants a rematch with both Shane Mosley and the recently-retired Felix Trinidad. And just for kicks, he’d sure like a shot at middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins before he finally turns out the lights.

“It’s very gratifying to know I have all these wins under my belt,’’ he said. “But there’s still something missing.’’

Redemption maybe?

But it all starts with Vargas, which is also where it could end.

In a fight billed as “Bad Blood,’’ De La Hoya seems to be the guy wearing the white hat, the one who isn’t sure why there is bad blood, or has to be.

“My feeling is that every fighter I’ve fought from the greater Los Angeles area - with the exception of Shane Mosley - has had a beef with me,’’ he said, himself a product of the greater Los Angeles area just like Vargas. “I guess Southern California is only big enough for one champion.’’

Or maybe one legend.

If there’s more to it than territorial rights, De La Hoya wasn’t saying what it night be.

“(Vargas) has been talking trash for many years,’’ he said. “I think he’s just an angry person. It’s his way of motivating himself.

"But I can’t wait until Sept. 14 when I talk with my fists.’’

While this fight is for each other’s junior middleweight title (De La Hoya has the WBC belt and Vargas is WBA champ), De La Hoya said he doesn’t fight for world titles anymore. That was when he was younger, when he was fighting for recognition, a bigger house and newer cars. Today, he’s fighting for his place in boxing history, which is more important than a dozen new cars.

“Now, I just think about beating the opponent in front of me,’’ he said. “I’m not fighting for money or titles anymore.’’

No, the stakes are much higher than that.

“I already know what it feels like to let a lot of people down,’’ he said. “And I don’t want to feel that again.’’

If you were looking for an excuse to not like him, you didn’t find one. He never gave you an opening, never raised his voice or cursed God or made foolish threats against the man he doesn’t seem to understand.

Instead, Oscar De La Hoya sounded calm and ready to fight, a guy on a personal mission who has already settled up with his own doubts and insecurities, put them behind him and out of his mind. All he has to do now is what comes naturally. What has always come naturally.

When he faces Fernando Vargas on Sept. 14 at the Mandalay Bay Events Center in Las Vegas, he'll be in shape, he’ll be focused and he’ll be ready to do whatever it takes to beat Vargas and move on.

At least that’s what he told us on a conference call earlier this week from his training camp in Big Bear, CA.

“These are my last fights, the defining moments of my career,’’ he said. “And I want to go out with a bang.’’

To go out with the bang, he needs to beat the two men who beat him. He wants a rematch with both Shane Mosley and the recently-retired Felix Trinidad. And just for kicks, he’d sure like a shot at middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins before he finally turns out the lights.

“It’s very gratifying to know I have all these wins under my belt,’’ he said. “But there’s still something missing.’’

Redemption maybe?

But it all starts with Vargas, which is also where it could end.

In a fight billed as “Bad Blood,’’ De La Hoya seems to be the guy wearing the white hat, the one who isn’t sure why there is bad blood, or has to be.

“My feeling is that every fighter I’ve fought from the greater Los Angeles area - with the exception of Shane Mosley - has had a beef with me,’’ he said, himself a product of the greater Los Angeles area just like Vargas. “I guess Southern California is only big enough for one champion.’’

Or maybe one legend.

If there’s more to it than territorial rights, De La Hoya wasn’t saying what it night be.

“(Vargas) has been talking trash for many years,’’ he said. “I think he’s just an angry person. It’s his way of motivating himself.

"But I can’t wait until Sept. 14 when I talk with my fists.’’

While this fight is for each other’s junior middleweight title (De La Hoya has the WBC belt and Vargas is WBA champ), De La Hoya said he doesn’t fight for world titles anymore. That was when he was younger, when he was fighting for recognition, a bigger house and newer cars. Today, he’s fighting for his place in boxing history, which is more important than a dozen new cars.

“Now, I just think about beating the opponent in front of me,’’ he said. “I’m not fighting for money or titles anymore.’’

No, the stakes are much higher than that.

“I already know what it feels like to let a lot of people down,’’ he said. “And I don’t want to feel that again.’’

But ultimately this decision is one that should indeed be dictated by the facts, rather than personalities. And I think it's best that this particular judge - Laura Taylor Swain - has not handled boxing cases before, because she'd be less likely to have a pre-conceived notion about either the plaintiff or the defendant. After all, this case has the potential to affect the way all promoters deal with all fighters. Her ruling against Ruiz' petition for a temporary restraining order (preventing King from interfering with the negotiations for a Ruiz-Tyson fight) was correct, even if she refused to admit Chapter 51 of "Operation Cleanup" into evidence, as King's lawyer, Peter Fleming, attempted to do :)

I would imagine that none of what King is alleged to have done vis-a-vis Tyson really matters, because King is not breaking with any of his obligations as per the promotional agreement with Ruiz.

Remember, as we pointed out in the last chapter, there is nothing in the King-Ruiz agreement that requires King to maximize the earnings of Ruiz, or to make the best financial deal for Ruiz for any particular fight, whether it is Ruiz' desire to go in that direction or not.

I'll go even one further - the attempts by Ruiz and Tyson to negotiate for a fight WITHOUT the involvement of King could be interpreted as a tortious interference with King's contract on the part of Tyson's people, inasmuch as King does indeed have the exclusive right to secure and promote fights for Ruiz.

Ruiz is probably a better fighter than many people give him credit for, but with all due respect, his camp can posture all they'd like about King being the "big bad wolf" here; I have a feeling all King would have to do is show the judge a tape of Ruiz' 19-second knockout loss to David Tua, then explain that he subsequently was able to steer that very same fighter to a mandatory #1 ranking, without having to beat a truly legitimate contender, and to a heavyweight championship that he has managed to hold on to for 18 months - through a draw and a disqualification - and this judge might just be ready to give King the James J. Walker Award, right then and there.

But I promised you folks there was going to be another side to this coin, and basically, here it is --

In Section C-2 of Professional Boxer Safety Act, this is the way a "manager" is defined:

"(10) MANAGER- The term `manager' means a person who, under contract, agreement, or other arrangement with a boxer, undertakes to control or administer, directly or indirectly, a boxing-related matter on behalf of that boxer, including a person who is a booking agent for a boxer."

This is the way a "promoter" is defined:

"(14) PROMOTER- The term `promoter' means the person primarily responsible for organizing, promoting, and producing a professional boxing match. The term `promoter' does not include a hotel, casino, resort, or other commercial establishment hosting or sponsoring a professional boxing match unless--

`(A) the hotel, casino, resort, or other commercial establishment is primarily responsible for organizing, promoting, and producing the match; and

`(B) there is no other person primarily responsible for organizing, promoting, and producing the match."

Yes, a promoter provides for and arranges for a fight card to take place. The promoter also signs fighters to promotional contracts, and that doesn't represent a fundamental departure from his basic function - promoting fights - since one would assume the fighters under contract would be appearing on those cards.

A manager is unquestionably an advocate for the fighter - he is, theoretically, in the kind of "adversarial" position that is generally considered to be healthy for the process - negotiating the best purse, for the best terms, with the promoter, on behalf of his fighter.

That's theory, and indeed, it sometimes constitutes practice. However, in some instances reality is quite different. That's because a lot of things in this business have changed. The nature of boxing is such that it has become very improbable that a fighter can advance his career without committing himself to a promotional contract. And once the promotional contract is signed, the manager more or less relinquishes any control he may have over his fighter's career, whether it is voluntary or not. In most cases, the manager is completely entrusting the career of his fighter to the promoter, who has the staff, the financial resources, the contacts, and presumably the expertise, to make that career successful.

The promoter will make the decisions as to when, where, against whom, and for how much a fighter will perform. The managerial function often becomes reduced to that of a "care-taker". With very few exceptions, the days where the power resided in the hands of the manager are long gone.

And we haven't even talked about those so-called managers who are "close associates" or operatives of promoters, are therefore a benign entity.

With this reduced authority on the part of managers, the promoter has taken on more and more of a proprietary interest in a fighter's career, assuming much more of a managerial function, in substance if not in name, or in law.

Because promoters do indeed sign fighters to contracts, and invest money in careers, it can be argued that it is in their best interests for the fighter's career to progress in a positive direction; therefore, you would assume they are working in the fighter's best interests. This certainly is not an unreasonable expectation on the part of the fighter.

But remember, the promoter is not contractually bound to act in a fighter's "best interests". Any promoter, in fact, who includes that kind of language in a contract is probably leaving himself vulnerable.

When a fighter is offered the opportunity to earn a payday on a show that is being promoted by ANOTHER promoter, the dynamic of the promoter's role changes - in my opinion, considerably.

That is because, as the holder of the fighter's exclusive promotional rights, the promoter is in the position where he customarily has the right to be compensated in exchange for "releasing" those promotional rights for that single event.

To illustrate this, we'll take a look at how money is distributed for a fight. Let's say, for example, that HBO or Showtime is paying "Promoter A" a total of $2 million in fees for the right to televise a fight card. That money is then budgeted in certain ways - perhaps $1.4 million of that is set aside to pay the two fighters in the main event.

To simply things, let's suppose this figure is split down the middle - where $700,000 apiece is "available" for each fighter. One of the fighters is under a promotional deal with "Promoter B", so therefore "Promoter A" has to have his written permission to use the fighter, and consequently he negotiates the purse with him. He apprises "Promoter B" as to what is available, and at that point "Promoter B", who is empowered in the way a manager may have been in a different era of boxing, negotiates NOT for the best purse figure for the fighter, but more in terms of best deal for HIMSELF.

So what happens? He negotiates a $300,000 "side deal" for himself, then turns around and offers $400,000 to the fighter, telling him "that's what the fight is worth". If the fighter signs for that figure (and he usually will), "Promoter B" has just pocketed a nice piece of change - a figure, in fact, equal to 75% of what the fighter is getting. That's basically how it works - and the fighter never knows a thing about it if anyone can help it, because "Promoter B" is going to afford "Promoter A" the same courtesy when the roles are reversed somewhere down the line.

It's important to note that the pie doesn't necessarily get any bigger because of a promoter's side deal - the promotional fee is not IN ADDITION to the money earmarked for the fighter; it comes OUT of it.

So in effect, not only is the promoter, who has thrust himself forward as the fighter's exclusive representative, not negotiating from the perspective of the best interests of the fighter he has under contract, he is, in effect, negotiating AGAINST him. It's not like a managerial relationship, where if the manager bargains a promoter UP from $400,000 to $600,000 his fee goes from $133,000 to $200,000 (based on 33-1/3%) - here if the fighter gets LESS, the promoter winds up with MORE.

You had better believe there's nothing "fiduciary" about that relationship, although the promoter, as the sole negotiating representative of the fighter, would seem to be positioning himself much the same as a fiduciary would.

The fighter and his camp do not have an opportunity to negotiate the best purse for themselves with the ACTUAL promoter, because by virtue of the agreement, they are PRECLUDED from such negotiations. This state of affairs was affirmed by Judge Swain's ruling.

You're going to say, "Gee, all this sounds like a conflict of interest", and maybe it is. Of course, there may indeed be some degree of justification for this - that's a subject we can devote a whole chapter to. For this purposes of this story, though, we don't want to examine the "right and wrong" of such an arrangement; we want to establish that such arrangements DO exist, and that they change the role and function of the promoter in such specific circumstances.

It's a point, however, that has been completely lost on those who have crafted, and who have lent advice pursuant to, the Federal boxing legislation that is in place, and that which is being proposed.

Let's revisit that definition of "manager", as it appears in the Professional Boxer Safety Act -

"(10) MANAGER- The term `manager' means a person who, under contract, agreement, or other arrangement with a boxer, undertakes to control or administer, directly or indirectly, a boxing-related matter on behalf of that boxer, including a person who is a booking agent for a boxer."

Well, given the situation we just laid out for you, that could very well describe a promoter, couldn't it?

Now look again at the definition of a "promoter":

"(14) PROMOTER- The term `promoter' means the person primarily responsible for organizing, promoting, and producing a professional boxing match."

Well, as we've demonstrated, you can position yourself as a promoter, and get paid for it, without being "primarily responsible for organizing, promoting, and producing a professional boxing match", can't you?

Finally, let's examine the definition of a "promotional agreement" from the same section of the Professional Boxer Safety Act:

"(15) PROMOTIONAL AGREEMENT- The term `promotional agreement' means a contract between a promoter and a boxer under which the boxer grants to a promoter the exclusive right to secure and arrange all professional boxing matches requiring the boxer's services for--

`(A) a prescribed period of time; or

`(B) a prescribed number of professional boxing matches."

Whether you realize it or not, there are people possessing promotional contracts with fighters who don't put on any shows at all; they just know that it is better to have a promotional deal than it is to have a managerial deal, because (a) it offers more control over the fighter, and (b) it affords the opportunity to make more money off the fighter. If you've read this chapter, you understand this.

So shouldn't the definition of a "promoter" be modified, at the very least, to specifically include ALL parties who have promotional agreements with a fighter?

Shouldn't the definitions of manager and promoter be contemplated more carefully and perhaps rewritten?

Shouldn't a number of provisions in the Federal law be changed to more accurately reflect the way the business of boxing is actually conducted?

Sure, there's a possibility that Ruiz could win his action against King, which is scheduled to be heard on September 6. But for that to happen, Judge Swain would have to most likely (1) completely reverse the position that she took in the TRO hearing; (2) rule that there is something inherently illegal about the structure of promotional contracts in boxing; and (3) take steps toward re-defining the role of the promoter in boxing.

As far as the latter is concerned, maybe some changes are in order. But I don't think it's Judge Swain's place to do it in court; rather, it is something that would need to be done through amendments to the Federal legislation, after consultation with experts. It's not a simple thing to do.

Ideas? I've got a few. And you'll read them soon enough.

fightpage@totalaction.com

Copyright 2002 Total Action Inc.