Ten Years... (Part II of II)

On May 8th, 1993 I spoke to Oliver McCall following Tony Tucker's loss to Lennox Lewis. As we stood in the ballroom of the majestic Mirage Hotel, Lennox strolled by with Courtney Shand and Pepe Correa. McCall sneered at Lewis and whispered, " he really does need to be exposed, he really is not all that." Those words have stuck with me.. Oliver meant every syllable.

Before the year was out Lewis did pull out another defense -albeit a dramatic one- against Frank Bruno on a domestic kind of heavyweight affair in Wales; then came the predictable beating of Philip Jackson stateside, setting up that one glorious defense on home turf, the last luxury before stamping some authority in the United States, and establishing a name for himself in the historical archives..
*Lesson #1:  'Don't look too far ahead!'

The defense would be a kind of final farewell to his die-hards, and the names suggested were Joe Hipp and Oliver McCall, although many did see Oliver as a real hard act to look good at a dance with. Hipp had out-priced himself and it looked an almost certain thing that the Damiani win had earned Oliver the ultimate opportunity.

It was a good P.R. exercise for Oliver to make his acquaintance with the British public well in advance of his title shot with Lennox, to show what he had to offer and get the sales of tickets rolling, so in February of 1994 McCall made a cameo appearance on UK soil, to basically show his face and introduce his raw tools to the Great British fight fraternity.

He appeared briefly in his London ring debut on the under card of the WBC super middleweight clash between Nigel Benn and Henry Wharton. He entered stage left, demolished U.S. import Dan Murphy inside a round then exited stage right, smiled for the cameras and it was a wrap.. Oliver McCall vs Lennox Lewis was set...24 September 1994.

We all know Lennox and what his role was to be, we have heard Oliver's story so far and the expected role that he was to play.. but a very interesting thing happened during the clean cut promotion of this fight, no-one had paid any attention to the kind of dangers that McCall could impose in the fight , it was really just a given that Lewis was destined for larger things, and in overlooking Oliver some common courtesy was not being addressed. Pepe Correa was the culprit who'd spark the fire that would fuel Oliver's drive only weeks away from fight time.

McCall spoke softly and respectfully at the press meeting for the Wembley Arena date. He was charming and grateful towards Lewis for being granted the chance of a lifetime, but when he spoke about taking the title stateside and tearing the belt away in his great opportunity, Lewis' trainer and team mouthpiece lashed out verbally and tactlessly..

"McCall sit down , the only belt you are leaving town with on the 24th is this one!" Correa did the most distasteful thing imaginable to Oliver and his company which included ex-challenger and long-time friend Tony Tucker; he threw a lacy red ladies suspender belt towards McCall, the smallest of actions and cheapest of gestures..

McCall left the meeting stunned and vengeful, "They don't know what they are messing with here, I just pray they have overlooked me."

Sept 24th was short and sweet.. The Odds were that long on a McCall victory that in a bid to sell more tickets Riddick Bowe's name was supposedly added as a chief support on the evening's card; a fight that never came to fruition nor was even mentioned to this day.

McCall came to the ring with Greg Page and George Benton in a tearful frenzy as if he had stirred up emotions from deep within in an attempt to muster up the effort of a life time. Tears flowed freely down the Chicago man's twisted face; the jeering of a partisan crowd just added more fuel to his focus.

Five minutes after hearing the bell for round one, disbelieving onlookers were leaving the arena stunned. Lennox Lewis had lost his WBC Championship to a heavyweight chancer who had really achieved the unthinkable, a blind right hand thrown over a flippant jab had cost Lennox dearly, and his trainer's abusive outburst may have burned his bridges in any effort of securing a rematch..

Lennox was exposed, damaged goods, not just beaten fair and square, but knocked out and embarrassed on home soil, heads had to roll; and it was Oliver McCall who would wield the axe yet again.

Correa's actions at the press conference combined with the loss had supplied the straw that would break the camel's back and give the ex champ enough reason to sack his crass trainer almost instantaneously. Oliver McCall was now not just a contender who could upset the odds from time to time, he was the NEW.. Heavyweight champion of the world.

Everything in Oliver's life from this day on was going to be all down hill, nothing could top this high. Junkies always say you can never really reach the levels of ecstasy you would find in that first fix; you could spend your life chasing that same height of pleasure but be chasing shadows, from then on ... it was all down hill. Oliver had won, defended, and lost the title within a year.

Five months after losing the crown to Frank Bruno in his final appearance in the UK, he would re-surface to box against a little known Uzbekistan heavyweight with 6 wins and 3 stoppages. McCall would abruptly stop the unbeaten run for the young man and knock him out inside of one round. The opponent was Oleg Maskaev, who five fights later would be in a competitive match with David Tua, thrash out wins over Alex Stewart, Courage Tshabalala, Derrick Jefferson and claim a poignant knockout scalp win over future heavyweight champion Hasim Rahman. At one point Maskaev was 20-2 ( 15 KO's) testament to Oliver McCall's real potential ..

Four weeks later in Miami, McCall would defeat another prospect with a respectable record, without breaking sweat. James Stanton, a Philadelphian with a stat sheet reading 17 -1 (8 KO's) would just quit on his stool literally because like so many others, he had been systematically broken by the Impenetrable McCall machine.. This win would set up Oliver McCall's darkest hour... a rematch with Lennox Lewis.

Oliver had become a regular hazard zone as far as his life outside of the ring was concerned. Since losing the title, he had severe personal problems with substance abuse, and mental demons that were really haunting him, on top of which his high profile status was a magnet for the police where ever he went. He was very disorganized and in no fit state to be involved in a large magnitude event of any sorts.

I don't really wish to elaborate much because the facts have no real relevance to this story, but the Lennox Lewis vs Oliver McCall fight should never have been allowed to take place. The Commission should have never allowed McCall to box, and those closest to him should have stood up and been strong enough to protect the mentally inept McCall from himself.

Instead on the 7th of February 1997, Oliver was subjected to a public humiliation. As millions watched the traumatized heavyweight try to put a brave face on things, but it soon became clear that his solid physique was only a mode of transport for the fragile soul that was struggling within . After 5 rounds of the most peculiar fight in heavyweight history, Oliver McCall was saved mercifully by referee Mills Lane, who pulled the sobbing challenger out of the fight as it became obvious that he was suffering a nervous breakdown at the most inconvenient of times.

Oliver sobbed and tears flowed freely from the eyes of a man who once stated, "I doubt wether it is possible to serve God and make a living out of smashing the hell out of another man.." He was torn between his faith as a Christian and the most brutal choice of profession..

Following the absurd fight the Commission threatened to hold his purse and when dragged before the Nevada State Athletic Committee to justify his actions, he began to mutter his way through his supposed strategy.

He rambled about a poor man's rope-a-dope, trying to explain his tactical intentions of taking the best Lennox could dish out and when Lewis realized that he could do no more with McCall, he would tire and become a sitting target .. but no-one was buying it, he again began to cry genuine tears and mumbled ,"you all will be judged.."

Only Oliver's' loyal wife Alethia would stand by him in this, his darkest hour, and explain, " Oliver is a very hard man to understand, but please don't doubt his faith, it is very genuine." This is when I thought we had seen the last of Oliver McCall.. but he had one more ace up his sleeve.

Oliver spent the next four years fumbling his way through his own boxing wilderness. He was putting together sporadic wins over opponents who really were beneath him, while at the same time evading run-ins with the law. He was trying -in my opinion- to recreate his better form but needed peace of mind to do this.

Treading water would be the best way to describe his activities as a top flight performing heavyweight and I feared that he may never get the engine running again at the highest level .. But, facts were facts, and although he was not rolling King Kong onto the mat every week, he was still unbeaten since the Lewis affair and apparently clean as he could be condition wise.

Lennox Lewis had by now lost his title again, only his second loss as a pro and again by Knockout . This time in the unusual surroundings of Africa, to the colorful power-punching Hasim Rahman from Baltimore. To be truthful, it was a hell of a punch but also quite out of the blue in a fight that Lennox could have waltzed through simply by being cautious. However , the title had gone and a rematch was set up for Las Vegas on the 17th of November 2001 at the Mandalay Bay Hotel .

The under card was due to feature some of Don King's other heavyweight attractions. A young Nigerian named Friday Ahunanya and his Russian opponent Sergei Lyakhovich were going to be featured on a large pay per view card which included the return of ex- Middleweight champion William Joppy, in his first fight since losing his title destructively at the hands of Felix Trinidad. Joppy was to fight unbeaten British prospect Howard Eastman for the Vacant title that the former had previously lost.

It was a massive stage and millions of viewers were expected to submit the pay per view fee to tune in to the mouth-watering action. Non-televised under card fights usually feature local talent in short time fillers to garnish the higher regarded feature bouts; often fought early before a half empty arena, but oddly enough on this occasion I was astonished to hear that one of the show openers would be a rare treat for those most hardened of fight fans that actually arrive with the intentions of getting complete money's worth. That bout was a ten round Heavyweight crossroads fight between the very unpredictable Henry Akinwande and Oliver McCall.

Henry was originally from Britain , yet had made Florida his home since signing for Don King in 1995 and obtaining U.S. citizenship to further enhance his career stateside. He was 40-1-1 with 26 knockouts and when on form could be an absolutely stunning boxer with lethal knockout power. Using his gigantic physical advantages wisely, after all Akinwande was six foot seven and possessed a reach of 82 inches, but although having only lost once, in a WBC title attempt against Lennox Lewis, it was for that fight he would ever be remembered for.

Henry became self preservent following a taste of Lewis' power early and held like flypaper to the Champion resulting in an embarrassing and uncharacteristic DQ loss after being repeatedly warned for his negative actions. Henry was credible and had beaten top drawer opponents like Tony Tucker, Jeremy Williams, Orlin Norris, Alex Zolkin and Maurice Harris soundly, he even held the WBO version of the title for a short time and in a twelve year career with just one defeat in forty-two matches, he should have been regarded as Hot sauce, but mud stuck and he would appear as ordinary as gravy to the unforgiving Filet Mignon eating Alphabet boys who were blinded from the good by one bad night. This was a priceless opportunity for Akinwande to set the record straight.

There were several common bonds between the two fighters; Akinwande and McCall had both lost humiliatingly to Lewis in title efforts by disqualification. Both were often avoided because of their dangerous and awkward styles, both had never been floored, and both were craving for redemption. The fight was a natural, but did deserve more than its modest setting, a half full Mandalay Bay arena and its un televised status.

Pre fight odds saw Akinwande the favorite going on recent form of a KO victory over Mo Harris and few expected anything other than an Akinwande win. Both boxers were in superb condition and as they entered the ring it was a calm surreal atmosphere with almost no crowd reaction, introductions done and seconds slipping between the ropes.

The heavyweights commenced battle, and the size difference became apparent. McCall immediately had to rush forward to null the advantage that Akinwande held by way of the lengthy pole like Jab. Henry set the trend by moving smartly and jabbing authoritatively against Oliver's bull rushing blind advances. Rounds came and went, and it was definitely Akinwande who was looking the busier and more cleaner punching of the two.

McCall was not getting dispirited but did look vacant between rounds and I wondered if this was the last hurrah for a guy who at long last had met a man whom he could not suppress.

Akinwande was busy and began to slip through gears , landing flurries of sharp, chopping right-hand shots from out of the skies, shots that would have seen off lesser tolerant mortals, but McCall although sullen in appearance still seemed unmoved. His only apparent defense was to power his body forward and manhandle his towering opponent physically, in an attempt to unbalance his composure. It was a chess match fight and when kept clean Henry was ruling the whole tempo, apart from the clumsy charging.

Round 6 saw Henry take steps back for the first time; the pace was taking its toll, after all Oliver had hardly opened up any wasteful shots and was preserving energy well, as opposed to Akinwande who was seen gasping gulps of air between attacks.. tides were actually turning.

McCall was actually gambling now, making a conscious decision to steal the fight by taking heavy shots to land one, all in the cause of making Akinwande lose self faith, a decision that was getting results. Akinwande was looking glassy eyed in desperation, not ready to surrender-to desperation, but aware of the change in the tides desperation, second guessing his stamina which was now looking dubious, the smart tactics were all McCall's.

The fight's first half had been stolen by Henry no doubt, but it was the manner of his last six minutes that were alarming, McCall pouring on some real fuel and Henry too pleased to survive in a mass of hysterical holding.. McCall's punches were getting desired effects and landing very frequently and Akinwande looked almost ready for collapse.. Round ten had arrived and the points deficit had almost closed. McCall's willingness to work had out-weighed the early liveliness of the taller man.

Akinwande's corner did nothing to aid their man's confidence; they were recklessly reaching for ways to motivate their fighter, who by now could hear nothing but alarm bells. The final bell spelled do or die for McCall, who stormed forward and threw everything at Akinwande, who lassoed his arms around Oliver's threshing body, attacking like a harbor shark McCall was now off the leash and going for broke and Akinwande was looking to the referee, desperate for help, his eyes appearing almost apologetic when, the unthinkable happened.

With exactly one minute remaining in the final round Oliver's persistence had paid off. Henry's mental resolve had collapsed and it was sorry to watch. One quick, stiff flurry landed clean and Akinwande's ebony stature turned limp. Slipping down the ropes like a guitarist's limp wrist, his body strummed each strand as he fell unconscious in absolute surrender leaving referee Kenny Bayless no option but to wave it off . McCall had found the doubting area of Henry's mind and tapped until it cracked. Akinwande's first visit to the canvas and only the second defeat on his respectful record, had become McCall's latest chapter of Giant killing.

McCall roared out in defiance and the tears rolled down his face. He had denied his circus of critics again, promoting his reputation once more as a heavyweight too dangerous to play with.. The last ten years of Oliver McCall's career have enough material for a Hollywood epic. In and out of the ring, he has reinvented himself like a chameleon, adjusting to his surroundings whenever asked to, and if doubted or written off he has proven time and time again to be king of the underdogs.

Oliver McCall may never be remembered as the greatest heavyweight of all time, but mess with the man who calls himself the Atomic Bull, without respect, and you are in Dangerous territory.

Read Part I

Photo Credit: Allsport