IT'S ONLY MAKE BELIEVE: but the WWF's bad-taste circus is what the kids today want
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When Arturo Gatti signed to fight Joey Gamache at welterweight on Oscar De La
Hoya's Madison Square Garden bill on last February, it was supposed to be just another "gimme" for the former super-featherweight champion, a marking time fight designed to help rehabilitate the exciting Canadian
banger's confidence and reputation following the three successive defeats of 1998.
The result, an early blastout for Gatti, was predictable enough, but no one could have foreseen how this single undercard fight would open a huge can of worms inside the core of Big Apple boxing.
The ruckus began when HBO, performing their unofficial fight night weigh-in, announced that Gatti had put on a staggering 19lbs since the weigh-in proper. The Canadian now boasted a frightening 16lbs advantage over Gamache. For a welterweight that represents an extra 10% of body mass
- an enormous amount.
Watching the fight myself on tape (kindly supplied by Steve Baldry), I was immediately struck by how much larger Gatti was than Gamache. Chest, biceps, forearms, neck, shoulders, back, legs
- in every part of the body where a fighter generates strength and punching power, Gamache was dwarfed.
Gatti was teeing off at will, and a series of frightening knockdowns later, Gamache was left stretched on the canvas. He later announced he would never fight again, much like
Gatti's previous hapless, over-matched, under-weight victim Reyes Munoz.
The inquest had begun before Gamache was even released from hospital, and in the months that followed the controversy surrounding how one so-called welterweight could out-weigh another by more than a stone (14lbs) took on a life of its own.
After announcing his retirement, Gamache posted lawsuits against both the New York State Athletic Commission and the
Commission's Executive Director, Tony Russo. That was just the start of it. The New York media, well up for a rumble, blitzed not only the Commission, but also went after the New York Governor George Pataki, who ultimately appoints the Commission. Then the FBI (taking time out from running the IBF) launched an investigation. It was Lewis-Holyfield I all over again.
Cutting through the crap, this controversy is basically about two issues.
The first is what can be done about the shameful state of boxing in New York -
where Commission seats are given as political favours, cover-ups are commonplace and incompetence ingrained.
The second is a more complicated, perhaps more important issue. It brings back to the fore an age-old question, one thought long resolved: Is it in the interest of safety to hold to championship weigh-ins on the day, or the day before the fight?
First let's pull on a rubber suit and wade through the sewer that is New York boxing. The Gatti-Gamache controversy could not have come at a worse time for Russo and his acolytes as the New York Post was already planning a damning three-part series of articles on corruption within the Commission. Specifically, the Post was critical of Russo and Governor Pataki, rightly demanding to know why New York needed over 70 boxing commissioners when Nevada, the world fight capital, gets by with only a fraction of that number.
Mike Katz, the respected New York boxing writer who has long campaigned for reform within the Commission, and his employers, House of Boxing.com, found themselves at the heart of the growing row.
The website often features "realtime" footage (TV pictures over the web) of major weigh-ins and their camera was present during the Gatti-Gamache weigh-in. The images captured were described by Katz. He wrote: "The House tape shows the
scales's lever moved to the top, indicating Gatti was overweight, and did not budge. It shows Johnny
Bos, Gamache's agent, rushing Tony Russo to argue and getting told: "Don't kick up a fuss."
House of Boxing has made the tape available to Gamache's lawyers, the New York District
Attorney's office and the FBI.
Bos has since been quoted as saying that he thought Gatti was four pounds or more over the limit, but fully expected him to make the weight on a second attempt after the traditional hour or so of running or skipping. He said he was shocked when he realised that Russo was not ordering Gatti to make any such second attempt. While it is true that officials sometimes forgive the odd ounce or so, there can be no justification for allowing a lighter-weight fighter a latitude of four pounds and Russo knew it.
Already squirming under the media spotlight and desperate to pre-empt further bad press, the
Commission's spokesman Scott Trent issued statements to the effect that no-one had complained about
Russo's handling of the weigh-in at the time (thus hinting at sour grapes from the Gamache camp). Hardly how Team Gamache and House of Boxing remember it. Then there were reports that Commission members and employees had been threatened with the sack if they spoke to the media abou this incident.
This cloak and dagger routine must have been quite the trip down memory lane for Russo, who kept his former boss Floyd
Patterson's degenerating mental capacities hidden from the public for years.
Despite the Mr Trent's best efforts the media scrutiny continued throughout March, and with the sporting
world's attention about to turn towards New York for the Lennox Lewis-Michael Grant fight at the end of April, the Commission knew it would only intensify. Increasingly desperate, the Commission made the decision that left the whole sport flabbergasted.
Flying in the face of medical opinion, the Commission ordered the weigh-ins for the Lewis-Grant undercard to take place on the day of the show, something which has not happened for a major championship bill, anywhere, for years. They decided to hold the weigh-ins at 8am local time, thus ensuring the fighters went without sleep as well as food and drink. (Ironically Lewis and Grant, who as heavyweights obviously did not need to "make weight", weighed in two days before the card, so as not to upset worldwide media deadlines).
Worse, the announcement came so late that the fighters had only weeks to re-structure their training regime, an important consideration for the lighter men. In fact Paul Ingle, who defended his IBF featherweight title as chief support to Lewis-Grant, was unaware of the ruling even as he arrived in New York. Ingle was furious and seriously considered pulling out and missing a huge opportunity to make a name for himself in the U.S.
Speaking two days before the fight he told Sky Sports: "I'm here now and as
I'm here I'll fight. But if I knew at home that I'd be treated like this, end of the day
I'd have stayed home."
It wasn't just fighters who were taken aback by the Commission's bizarre boxing brainwave. Simon Block, the General Secretary of the British Boxing Board of Control, lamented the New York
Commission's decision and was under no illusions as to their motives.
"It was precisely because of the Gatti situation that they insisted upon a morning [same day] weigh-in," he said over the phone. "I made it clear to them that the Board objected and that in the event of a serious injury arising from a boxer who had been forced to make weight on the day of the fight there would be tremendous legal repercussions."
He added: "When you have a rule you should apply it, across the board, all the time. No matter who you are
- the New York Commission, the BBBC or a government, when you decide to change a rule you should think very carefully as to when and more importantly why you are doing so."
Block believes not only did the New York Commission make a hasty decision, but also a wrong one. "The fact remains that the whole weight of medical evidence, collected from all over the world over a period of years, shows dehydration is the single biggest cause of serious brain injury in boxing. The longer a boxer has between making weight and actually boxing the less likely he is to suffer brain damage. Those are the facts."
Since the Michael Watson tragedy the BBBC have taken weight-making very seriously, in some instances actually monitoring that a fighter is not "crashing" the weight (losing a large amount of weight in a short period of time) in the build-up to a fight. Block seemed at a loss to understand how his New York counterparts could take the same issue so flippantly.
As this goes to press, Tony Russo is on the brink of losing his job. It is very difficult to have sympathy for him. In an attempt to take the heat of himself he compounded one error of judgement with another. At best his decision to change the weigh-in times placed additional stress on fighters trying to make weight; at worst, he placed his own interests above theirs and played politics with their safety.
Now to the second issue, a row which was simmering long before the Gatti-Gamache flashpoint. While Russo and the New York Commission have been universally panned for changing the schedule at such short notice, there are many within the sport who would welcome a return to same-day weigh-ins.
In the UK, weigh-ins for championship fights were moved to the previous day in response to the spate of tragedies which rocked the sport in the early 1990s. Although some within the trade opposed the move, arguing it would lead to weight discrepancies come fight time, their voices were smothered under the burden of medical opinion and the urgent need for boxing to be seen to be "doing something".
Yet as the memories of the tragedies of Michael Watson, Bradley Stone and the others gradually became less sharp, dissenting voices were heard once more. Now, with Gatti-Gamache providing a shocking, high profile example of how day-before weigh-ins can actually create danger, the debate is re-joined.
Jim Watt, former lightweight champion of the world turned television pundit is one of the most vocal supporters of same-day weighing in. He is one of a growing minority of people within the sport who feel that the dangers of having huge weight discrepancies between fighters are greater than the dangers of dehydration.
Watt argues that too many fighters step off the scales to go on a 24-36 hour binge and pack on as much weight as possible before the first bell. He believes it is a case of a good theory making bad practice.
"Don't get me wrong, the idea is good," said Watt when I telephoned him. "Many of the dangers of boxing have been linked with dehydration, and so giving fighters 24 hours to re-hydrate their bodies therefore must be a good idea on paper.
"But the problem is that this time period is getting abused. Fighters who should not dream of fighting at certain weights are punishing their bodies, murdering themselves, to make the limit and then rely on this period of up to 36 hours to get back up to something like normal again.
"If they had to weigh in on the day of the fight, and if they wanted to fight with any sort of strength, they would be forced to fight at a more healthy weight for their bodies. This 24-36 hour period is giving fighters a lot of incentive to fight at the wrong weight."
And the dangers are exacerbated when only one fighter packs in the pounds. "When someone fights for a title at 12 stone [168lbs],
that's exactly what he's supposed to be - a 12 stone fighter. He's not supposed to be a bloody cruiserweight.
It's totally unfair to those boxing at a more natural weight - the ones who aren't taking these silly chances with their health. Sometimes these guys are giving away a full stone in weight and I
don't need to say that's dangerous. They are at a massive disadvantage. Essentially these fellows are punished for been sensible and abiding by the rules."
It has become increasingly apparent over the last decade there are huge differences between the attitudes and capabilities of individual fighters regarding what bodybuilders call "crash weight gain". Like the Nevada State Athletic Commission, the BBBC is currently investigating the extent to which this ability varies from fighter to fighter. Simon Block confirmed that they have already found "significant differences" in the ability of individual fighters to quickly pile on weight.
These findings do not surprise Watt, who, from his ringside commentary position over the years, has seen first hand huge weight discrepancies.
"Chris Eubank, for example, walked around a good stone and a half above his fighting weight between fights. He dragged all the liquid out of his body at 7pm one night and had until 11pm the next night to pack as much of that weight as possible back on. I
don't know exactly how much he managed to [put back on], but when you saw him next to a Nigel Benn you had no doubts he was no longer anywhere near the proper weight limit."
Watt's specific example of Eubank seems very apt in light of the fact that Eubank gave world cruiserweight champion Carl Thompson two epic battles.
Interestingly, even though Watt characterises weight crashing as "an unfair advantage" he stops short of accusing its practitioners of cheating.
"It's not cheating because the rules don't forbid it - in fact they actually encourage it. Fellows like Gatti and Eubank, and I hate to keep using them as examples but they are the two famous for it, are using the system to their great advantage. And they are perfectly entitled to do so. They are exploiting an opportunity to their advantage and why not? Boxing is competition.
"If we changed the rules so they don't have this opportunity to gain this, and
let's be honest about it, massive advantage then their opponents won't find themselves outweighed by six, seven pounds or whatever.
It's unfair and it has to be changed."
In theory, there should be less need to crash weight today than in any point in history. Traditionalists may shudder, but the proliferation of weight classes ensures that every fighter has a chance at fighting at a weight where he can operate with full strength, and surely that is a good thing.
In practice, things are more complicated. In previous eras the big pull would be towards a particular "glamour" division such as middleweight, but for Y2K fighters, the gold rush is not towards a division, but towards the four or five big-name boxers such as Naseem Hamed or Oscar De La Hoya (yes, even now).
For his August defence, before settling on Augie Sanchez as an opponent, Naz's name was linked with everyone from former super-flyweights (Johnny Tapia and Danny Romero) to full-grown lightweights (Angel Manfredy). All of them were at least tempted to either pack on or hack off the poundage for the fortune and glory of a Naz fight, to hell with the potential risks.
Watt accepts this, but makes an astute counter-point. He offered: "Sure, there's always going to be an incentive to fight at [unhealthy] weights in the respect that fighting a Hamed or De La Hoya brings more money and exposure. But
you're only going to get that type of situation once or twice in a career, not every single time you fight."
It may appear boxing has to chose the lesser of two evils, but maybe there is a way to lessen both evils at the same time. A staggered or two-tier weigh-in, which required fighters to make weight, much as they do now, the day before the fight, and then weigh-in again on the day of the fight to ensure fighters are not significantly above weight may be the answer.
What is interpreted as "significantly overweight" would obviously cause all sorts of rows, especially as what is significantly over-weight for a bantamweight is no big deal to a cruiserweight. Perhaps a rule requiring all fighters to remain within 105% of their own championship weight-limit would be fair methodology to employ here.
Although there are other problems with two-tier weigh-ins, Jim Watt believes they are the best way to guard against both dehydration and another Gatti-Gamache situation. Simon Block also thinks some sort of two-tier weight making could be beneficial, and admits the idea has been discussed at BBB of C general meetings.
But, of course there are huge obstacles to any rule change. It would be a huge culture shock to the modern game, where contestants for televised championship fights are sometimes unknown until the day of the fight, to implement a system where fights could be cancelled hours before the card went on air.
There is also no guarantee that fighters would not continue to crash weight and still enter the ring in a dehydrated state. But you would hope that fighters and trainers would consider holding an uncomfortably low weight for two days to be persuasion enough to move up to the next division.
Right now it is all ifs, buts and maybes, and it is premature to start designing a new weighing-in system. However, surely, it is now time for boxing to take an in-depth look at this issue. The cliché holds true: Boxing can never be made safe, but it can always be made safer. Maybe for boxing the price for peace of mind is eternal vigilance.
