By Mark Workman

Now that David “Tuaman” Tua (43-3-1, 38 KOs) has officially pulled out from Friday’s Heavyweight Heat pay-per-view card, many are wondering if this once-promising heavyweight contender will ever rise again. Has “The Terminator” finally been terminated once and for all?

I’ve always believed that money and success for some fighters can be a curse. Many great boxers have begun their descent once fame and fortune came their way, having lost that aching hunger that once propelled them to success. Has David Tua lost the burning desire deep inside to become heavyweight champion of the world, satisfied with just being a wealthy celebrity?

I used to live in David Tua’s hometown of Auckland, New Zealand. I’ve always found Tua to be an enigmatic individual. I’ve spotted him around Auckland a few times, disguised wearing a cap pulled down low around his face, yet driving an expensive car with the word “Tuaman” on the license plate. I could never understand that one. But that’s part of the mystery of David Tua.

Born Davita Manfaufau Sanerifi on the tiny island of Faleatiu in Western Samoa on November 21, 1972, David Tua took his professional name from the first 3 letters of his father’s first name, Tuavale. Moving to Mangere, Auckland, New Zealand at the age of 10, David Tua had already been learning to fight since he was 8 years old.

Seeing something special in young David, father Tuavale would bring in grown men off the street to fight David, offering them loaves of bread and sweets from his convenience store if they beat the 8-year-old future Samoan warrior but giving David “the strap” if he lost. At the age of 13 David joined a local boxing club and began his long journey to one day becoming a top heavyweight contender and quite possibly the heavyweight champion of the world.

But since losing to heavyweight champion Lennox Lewis in November, 2000, David Tua seems to be constantly misfiring at his designated championship target. Coming into the ring against Lewis at 245 pounds (111 kg), Tua was slow, looked one-dimensional and did nothing more than chase Lewis around the ring for 12 rounds, unable to mount a meaningful assault and receiving the boxing lesson of his career from Lennox Lewis. I don’t care what anyone in Tua’s camp says, 245 pounds is too much weight for a 5’ 9 ½” (176.5 cm) man to carry effectively in the ring unless you’re aspiring to be the next Butterbean.

I remember seeing the Lewis/Tua fight on giant screen in the Egyptian Theatre at the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas while on tour with the rock group Snake River Conspiracy. I was an American living in New Zealand at the time, yet also a Kiwi at heart; and against my better boxing judgment I patriotically bet $600.00 on David Tua and watched him not give his all and pretty much struggle through 12 rounds with no hope of winning the Lewis fight much less hurting the 6’ 5” (195.5 cm) champion.

I walked away from the Luxor hotel that night not caring so much about the money I lost, but feeling as if David Tua had let an entire country down because he didn’t try hard enough. David Tua is a legend in New Zealand. If Tua had tried harder, he might’ve knocked Lewis out. Two fighters with less of a punch than David Tua, Hasim Rahman and Oliver McCall, have done so quite well.

After the Lennox Lewis fight, Tua’s next loss came at the hands of current IBF heavyweight champion Chris Byrd. Tua came into that fight at 233 pounds (106 kg), 12 pounds lighter than he was in the Lewis fight but pretty much suffered the same fate, receiving another boxing lesson from the elusive Chris Byrd. Byrd was easily able to neutralize Tua’s heavy firepower with his superior boxing skills and elusive style. Styles make fights and Byrd’s style was tailor-made to make a brawler like Tua look bad. Had he worked harder, Tua might’ve beaten Byrd. One good shot properly landed on the chin from Tua and Byrd would’ve been seeing little birdies flying around his head, but Tua fell short again.

Huffing and puffing his way through his next fight against Fres Oquendo, back up in weight to 242 pounds (110 kg), seeming to have no stamina and accuracy in his shots at all. Tua was finally able to KO Oquendo in the 9th round. To Tua’s credit, he came from behind and reached deep into the well inside him and did what he had to do in order to win the fight. But he hadn’t looked like the promising heavyweight destroyer of old in quite some time.

In his next fight against ex-heavyweight champion Michael Moorer, coming in at the same weight as when he fought Oquendo, Tua came out the gate charging and brutally knocked Moorer out in 30 seconds of round number 1, seemingly proving to all in attendance that he wasn’t washed up and still a force to be reckoned with in the heavyweight division.

In his next fight against tomato can and previous Butterbean opponent Russell Chasteen, he came into the fight a bloated 252 pounds but easily massacred Chasteen in round number 2. Yet the rollercoaster ride through the refrigerator seemed to be continuing as he wasted his time with this meaningless fight.

In his next fight against ex-heavyweight champ Hasim Rahman both fighters came into the ring overweight, that fight ending in a controversial draw. Anyone who saw that fight, except for vision-impaired judge Robert Grasso, knows that Rahman deserved the win.

In his last fight in March, weighing in this time at 251 pounds (114 kg), it took Tua 10 rounds to stop unknown journeyman Talmadge Griffis (22-5-3, 14 KOs) at the Waitakere Trust Stadium in Auckland, New Zealand; and Griffis only weighed in at a comparatively bony 207 pounds (94 kg).

The Griffis fight was Tua’s first comeback fight after a 2-year forced layoff due to litigation with ex-trainer/co-manager Kevin Barry and ex-co-manager Martin Pugh. Tua has alleged that both managers conspired to steal more than a million dollars from him; and I’m sure that kind of distraction can’t be a help to Tua in his comeback efforts.

Will we ever see once again the heavyweight destroyer who brutally demolished current WBA heavyweight champion John Ruiz in 19 seconds? I have no choice but to wonder. Tua weighed in lean-and-mean at 225 pounds (102 kg) for that fight. I’m also inclined to wonder if it’s not just about the rollercoaster weight ride that he seems to continue on with or maybe also a bit of plain old waning desire.

Tua is now 32 years old and his best days could very well be behind him. Does he still have the burning desire to do what it takes to become heavyweight champion of the world? Many doubt that he still does. What he does and how he looks in his next fights will certainly tell the true tale.

I’ve always thought of Tua as sort of a Samoan Mike Tyson, although Tua prefers to see himself as more of a Samoan Joe Frazier or Rocky Marciano. Either way, the thought of seeing Tuaman and Iron Mike square off against each other has always, until recently, been very appealing and compelling to me. The 2 fighters are practically mirror-images of each other physically and their brawler styles are very similar. But with Iron Mike now shot and supposedly retired for good and Tua’s future in question, it’s almost certain this fight will never happen. But what a fireworks display that fight would’ve been had it happened 10 years ago.

For David Tua to beat the bigger heavyweights of today such as Vitali Klitschko, he’s going to have to come into the ring in much better shape and work a lot harder to force his way past their longer reach in order to get inside and use his brute punching power to his advantage. If using that gifted punching power properly, the damage he could inflict to the body of his opponents would be substantial, yet lately he seems to avoid going to the body of his opponents like the plague. Take away the body and the head will fall.

Recently, Tua seems to be more content with constant headhunting, throwing nothing but single bombs that are lacking in accuracy instead of working hard to consistently throw pinpoint accurate combinations to the head and body that would serve him much better. And I think I’ve said enough about his up-and-down weight and conditioning and the resultant lack of stamina.

I’ve always liked David Tua and had high hopes for him. He’s a spiritual man who stays away from the negative lifestyles that many popular fighters of today embrace; and he’s smart and articulate, so you can’t help but like him. And he’s an exciting brawler with a powerful punch when he decides to use it properly. But a great personality isn’t enough to win championship fights. When will David Tua finally wake up and show us his best before his best is truly behind him, if that isn’t already the case?

In the past, David Tua, speaking of his quest to become heavyweight champion, has said, “I must fulfill my destiny.” I hope he does fulfill his destiny. But I truly think that if he doesn’t start giving us his very best soon, his destiny in boxing will be nothing more than a short footnote in the history books, with him being remembered more because of the fighters who beat him than the great fighters he beat.

Sometimes I wonder if the best thing that could’ve ever happened to David Tua was that he lost all of his money. Then he might regain the aching hunger to win that he once possessed. Will New Zealand’s warrior son ever rise again? Are his dark days past?

David Tua, New Zealand and the rest of the world await the fulfillment of your destiny.

If you have any comments about this article, you can email Mark Workman at mark@markworkman.com .