The year was 1936; two heavyweight combatants entered the fabled Yankee Stadium ring with two deviating ideas about what will unfold. One heavyweight was the young phenom,  chiseled by years of hard labor in the Deep South. He was a humble, soft-spoken young man who’d just entered the quantum air of celebrity. Despite being an instrument sharpened to inflict punishment, young Joe Louis  had a pocket full of money and had taken a liking to golf. His “team” at the time consisted of a trainer, manager and two investors.  That’s a long cry from today’s’ extended assortment of “pad men,” specialists,  advisors and “hanger ons.” When Joe entered the ring that night he was a young knockout artist and had previously been anointed savior of a lackluster division. When he left that ring he was a battered heap, instantly eliciting both white supremacist jeers along with the tears of black folks. This “failure” would be rectified two years later in stunning fashion and the young fighter’s ability to respond to defeat only furthered the legend of the “Brown Bomber.” 

On all accounts of Max Schmeling's battering of Joe Louis there was never any hint that Joe's trainer Jack Blackburn was “the wrong fit.” Back then the lines were clearly drawn between “what” a trainer could realistically bring to a fighter's success in the ring. Back then there were no certified “psychoanalyst” corner jockeys who could “bring out the best” in a young man. Due to social circumstances and the will to survive, a kid could either fight or he couldn’t.  Trainers, by nature of their duties, are authoritarian figures and back then fighters followed physical and tactical instruction without hesitation. Nowadays,  with the fighter assuming the role of “employer” and a few trainers garnering “micro celebrity,” the relationship is rife with chemistry and boundary issues. 

Joe Louis was  a man  weighed down by the pressures of his race but at his core he was a warrior -and warriors if anything- are accountable. Today’s external “pressures” would have mandated  Joe  make a change outside the ring (scapegoat)  but back then Louis knew the change had to be made inside it. Joe Louis didn’t have an “issue” with the man who supervised his training and fitness; he had a problem with the man who kicked his ass. Novel concepts by today’s standards, but in a world where no fighter could speak without delusion in post fight interviews we’re a long way from home. As boxing mirrors society and other mainstream sports, the fighter as “business man” is convinced (like the Yankees in baseball) he can buy results; and like the Yanks of the last seven years most fighters have found it to be furthest from the truth.

Those Were Different Times 

Consistency and resiliency were markers for success back then, and there’s no arguing that this manifested vividly in pugilism. Back then our country was led by a “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality and fighters exhibited this tunnel vision uncluttered of  “advisors.” Back then you could depend on a fighter to demonstrate a habitual behavior in the ring in style and approach. Like an offspring who is shown consistency by his/her parents in love and concern, those fighters (like children) were given the best chance for success in a hostile ring. They were also tested more, so the tendency to panic after a couple of losses didn’t enter into the development equation. Today’s boxing “business” is filled with instability as the norm, often making it very difficult for fighters to remain with one trainer long-term. Constant reconfiguring and a pressure to control and customize one's career can often lead to a fighter forgetting how to do what brought all of these people together in the first place; fight!

The Poster Child

Consider this, the number one pay-per-view attraction in our beloved boxing is pretty much a corporate entity who is an “in ring” schizophrenic. The only form recognizable about Oscar de la Hoya during his career is his face and the logo; all else is subject to change. Early in his career the Golden Boy was an east L.A. “left hooker” who could box a little bit. His performance against “John John” Molina was a turning point for Oscar as the veteran Boricua forced the young hopeful to take a long, hard look at trainer Roberto Alcazar. To me it was akin to the first time Michael Jackson (with “Off the Wall” Grammy’s in tow) looked in the mirror and detested what he saw. Remember, this was the mid 90’s and Oscar was on his way to setting precedent and trends with everything he did. What followed was the holistic approach of “The Professor” Jesus Rivero and  the shoulder shrugging bombast of Floyd Mayweather Sr. What became cemented in his performances was a perplexing  lack of a strong identity, his legacy is that of a  great fighter who never knew himself.

Against Floyd Sr.’s offspring (Floyd Jr.) the poster child for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Oscar’s cheap Jose Louis Castillo impersonation was greeted by Floyd’s laughter. Predictably the Golden Boy's inability to establish an in ring persona is a flaw that usually exposes him on the highest level. Unfortunately for fans, fighters are increasingly playing “musical trainers” from one “big fight” to the next, often rendering the product unreliable. The between round cameras and microphones of HBO have created a reality show within the “real show” where you and I can critique the merits of every corner man. This was very evident in the backlash and ultimate hiatus between Shane Mosley and his father Jack after consecutive losses to Winky Wright.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some talented trainers out there but this trend is similar to that in the music business. All it takes is for a producer to generate one “hit” and all of a sudden everyone wants that particular sound regardless of whether it suits them or not.  What tends to happen is the producer who was once true to his art becomes a beat manufacturer spending less time pawning out uninspired tracks for BIG money. Can you blame the trainer? Or the producer of the moment? Not really because in most cases that trainer apprenticed with an Eddie Futch (as in Freddie Roach's case) and paid his dues to be in that tax bracket. Buddy McGirt had his “hits” with Arturo Gatti and Antonio Tarver but for every success story there is a Vivian Harris who feels neglected by the “hired gun.” Stories often circulate about “hired gun” trainers passing off fighters who’ve either betrayed their original trainers to “assistants,” or abandoned them in favor of even bigger names.

It’s hard enough developmentally for the fighter who is constantly being rewired to suit whatever particular forte that hired gun is known for. In a lot of cases the fighter sees the true colors of a trainer who isn’t as emotionally invested because they didn’t develop that fighter at a younger age.  When things go wrong (in and out of the ring) the fighter who may be at an elite level is once again forced to make a decision that will “render” him  in “transitional” status for long stretches in time.

Hired Guns Keep their Eyes on the Prize

Ronnie Shields took his ass to Russia leaving an exciting young champion on the rise in Juan Diaz to work with an “assistant” in a title defense! Shields, who spent time deluding Mike Tyson, gambled on the money and the opportunity to be associated with “history” and lost. Freddie Roach had to make amends and fly to the Philippines for Manny Pacquiao for training the “world’s richest part-time fighter” against Floyd Mayweather, Jr. The sweepstakes to further confuse Oscar was so coveted that even Floyd's father ( a noted hired gun himself) bitched and moaned to keep  his hat in the ring. Manny Steward tampered with the chaotic beauty of Prince Hamed, played power games with the champion's “real” support system and jumped ship when he was exposed. His entrance into Jermain Taylor’s corner hasn’t produced any results, but due to his distinction he will get the benefit of the doubt. Manny can keep score in a fight, comment on the matchmaking (as he did during the Spinks bout) and generally subscribe any fighter he works with a trip to Kronk (his turf) and nobody will bat an eye.

As of this writing Taylor is exercising his rematch clause with Kelly Pavlik and I doubt he’ll be returning to Detroit any time soon.

As this small circle of men prosper from the fallacy that only they “know” how to win big fights, a small print reality stares us all in the face by simply examining any credible “pound for pound” top ten. Now get your reading glasses out fight fans and look real closely; most of the fighters in the top ten “pound for pound” benefit from one consistent voice and that voice usually comes from someone who loves them. Fighters that fight them (especially with a new “hired gun” trainer) have to “gamelan” for them, it is never the other way around. You have to game plan for Corey Spinks because he and that “retired cop” with the potty mouth have established a rock solid “in ring” persona. Fighters who don’t have confusion in the corner are more confident and relaxed enough to go in there and impose their will on unorganized opponents. Dynamic duos like  Winky Wright-Dan Birmingham or Juan Manuel Marquez-Nacho Beristain probably never waste training camp time worrying about whether or not tactics will be carried out.

Manny Steward's “rep” couldn’t get him past Dan Birmingham and now Jack Loew, long time trainers who know and love their fighters. We wouldn’t even know Manny Steward if it weren’t for Tommy Hearns and there's no coincidence that the relationship they shared was similar to that of the fighters/trainers I just mentioned. When a trainer “builds” a fighter from the ground up he has access to the fighter’s emotional reservoir and they form  enough of a bond to demand responsibility. Manny Steward didn’t die with Prince Hamed after Marco Antonio Barrera undressed him! Yet he still gets visibly bothered talking about Leonard/Hearn’s I. The Prince had no support system in which to rebuild his psyche for a rematch. There was nobody “in his corner” emotionally when the lights went down so there was no place to begin picking up the pieces.

Jermain Taylor is faced with a big decision, he’s already commented on how he and “advisors” are going to get together and talk. He can either become a modern day Golden Boy and bring in the next Timbaland or he can make Ozell Nelson and Pat Burns kiss and make up. He can do his roadwork in the red clay of Arkansas or he can go to the Wildcard or some other hired gun's turf. Part of growing up is knowing when and how to say no, any child can say yes to things that “look” good, but it takes a man to say “this isn’t for me.” A hired gun is necessary when a career is on the brink, as a last ditch effort to salvage a truly gifted fighter. Hopefully Jermain and other fighters like him will resist the urge to enter into this quagmire and return to the foundations they have. Very often in life we think change is the answer to everything but in truth it’s the move you don’t make that keeps you from screwing up your future.

Calzaghe vs. Kessler: My Call 

I have a feeling Joe Calzaghe will make it look easy because he’s too versatile for a stand-up guy to just walk down. It will take age or a much quicker athlete than Kessler to end Joe’s title reign. I often wonder what would have become of Enzo Calzaghe had he and his son crossed the pond and became vulnerable to America’s countless “advisors.” Would we even be able to watch a certain Hall of Famer fight a unification bout this Saturday? Joe probably would have gotten caught by a Jeff Lacy left hook after some hired gun admonished him on staying inside and sitting down on his punches.

Questions? Comments? Email Martin Wade here