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Brendan Ingle said once that a trainer has a dangerous amount of power over fighters in his care. He is, he said, part doctor, part psychologist, looking out for the physical and moral welfare of the boxer and that duty of care extends beyond his immediate remit.
Which is why Javier Capetillo is a lucky man for copping a mere 12-month suspension the same as his charge received for loading the gloves of Antonio Margarito before he fought Shane Mosley in Los Angeles two weekends ago.
Freddie Roach agrees and he claims to know a thing or two about such things. Amir Khan's trainer made the sensational claim in an interview with Brian Kenny on ESPN radio last week that Marco Antonio Barrera (Khan's opponent in Manchester next month) had illegal wraps on his hands before he fought Manny Pacquiao, another of his fighters, in 2003. Roach says he spotted the cast-like wraps when he inspected Barrera's gloves. "The commissioner came over, and they threw it away." Barrera, who studied law years ago, will note the allegations with interest.
Roach, not a man prone to wild statements, also alleges that Margarito broke the orbital bone of another of his fighters in sparring, and was told Margarito used special wraps "to protect his hands".
The most infamous case of glove tampering in recent times occurred in New York in 1983, when Carlos Panama Lewis took an ounce of padding out of the gloves of Luis Resto, who went on to batter the unbeaten favourite, Billy Ray Collins. Collins was temporarily blinded and never boxed again. A year later he died in a car crash. Lewis and Resto were later banned from boxing for life and sent to prison for two and a half years.
Capetillo, who admitted his culpability, at the very least should never be allowed near a gym again. He is not only a disgrace to boxing (not that difficult a crime to commit, it has to be said), but he could have sent Margarito into the ring with two weapons every bit as deadly as those of Luis Resto.
Margarito is not blameless, of course, and his claim that he just held his hands up to be wrapped by Capetillo, unaware that he had inserted grout-like substances across his knuckles, will go down as one of boxing's most risible excuses, one that the California State Athletic Commission dismissed in handing down their judgment. Margarito's one-year ban applies throughout the United States but it was disturbing to hear that his promoter, Bob Arum, might try to get him work in Mexico where the California-born fighter now lives instead.
The Harvard-educated Arum, a man who knows how to work a court room, exploded indignantly after the hearing: "To take a kid who's done nothing wrong and revoke his licence for a year are you crazy?"
It's Arum who's crazy like a fox. Of course Margarito knew what Capetillo was doing unless he's never seen grout in his life, or, worse, this is how his trainer wraps his hands every time he fights. And you have to wonder if that has been the case. Had Margarito, a punishing hitter, not been found out before the fight by Mosley's alert trainer, Nazim Richardson, he could have put his opponent in hospital, or worse.
The hardened plaster found across the knuckle parts of the gauze wrapping Capetillo put on both of Margarito's hands would have turned them into rocks. It is hardly mitigating evidence that they were discovered and that Mosley subsequently gave Margarito the worst beating of his career.
These were the same fists, allegedly clean, that made such a mess of the Puerto Rican Miguel Cotto in his previous fight, in Las Vegas last July. The Nevada State Athletic Commission protested it would have been impossible for such a crime to go undetected in their jurisdiction, so rigorous are their pre-fight inspections.
How reassuring. But forgive me for remaining cynical. In nearly 40 years covering this weird and wonderful business, I've seen dodgy scales and phantom punches, I've seen fighters so weight-drained they've barely been able to lift their arms, I've heard all the whispers, witnessed the contractual shenanigans, rigged ratings, law suits, failed drugs tests and some stuff you don't want to know about.
When prizefighters first donned gloves in the 19th century, it was to guard their hands in sparring. When gloves were introduced to competition, they were similarly flimsy. There were still knockouts galore, bad ones. Now championship fights require gloves of eight or ten ounces and some people argue that the consequently longer bouts do more damage but that is a separate, if fascinating argument. The regulations are designed to give both boxers an equal chance; hiding concrete in your hands doesn't quite fulfil that objective.
The power of a punch, even without illegal linings in gloves, can be frightening. One of Brendan Ingle's hardest punchers was Naseem Hamed. Before his penultimate fight, against Marco Antonio Barrera in 2001, there were long, loud arguments about the sort of gloves they would use. More telling was the observation at the time by Hamed on the power of his punch. "This right here," he said, stroking his chin, "is flesh and bone. Any chin, no matter which muscle man, no matter who it is, any living soul with a chin only needs three and a half pounds of pressure [to go]. I'm generating more than three and a half pounds of pressure."
Here are some frightening numbers. Hamed weighed nine stone, but floored much bigger men in sparring. He was, literally, lethal. So was Henry Cooper, a relatively small heavyweight. When 'Enry threw his famous 'Ammer, it was estimated at the time (perhaps fancifully) that it travelled 15 times faster than a Saturn V rocket and generated three tons of force.
George Chuvalo had one of the best chins in the history of boxing and prided himself on never having been knocked down. This is what he said about someone who tried: "Getting hit by Joe Frazier was like getting hit at 100 miles an hour by a Pontiac." Try getting up from that.
I'd like to believe Margarito when he says: "I've never cheated. I've never been in a situation like this before." To do so, however, would require the sort of faith in mankind found only in monasteries. As Freddie Roach says: "I don't trust anybody in this game."
Which is why Javier Capetillo is a lucky man for copping a mere 12-month suspension the same as his charge received for loading the gloves of Antonio Margarito before he fought Shane Mosley in Los Angeles two weekends ago.
Freddie Roach agrees and he claims to know a thing or two about such things. Amir Khan's trainer made the sensational claim in an interview with Brian Kenny on ESPN radio last week that Marco Antonio Barrera (Khan's opponent in Manchester next month) had illegal wraps on his hands before he fought Manny Pacquiao, another of his fighters, in 2003. Roach says he spotted the cast-like wraps when he inspected Barrera's gloves. "The commissioner came over, and they threw it away." Barrera, who studied law years ago, will note the allegations with interest.
Roach, not a man prone to wild statements, also alleges that Margarito broke the orbital bone of another of his fighters in sparring, and was told Margarito used special wraps "to protect his hands".
The most infamous case of glove tampering in recent times occurred in New York in 1983, when Carlos Panama Lewis took an ounce of padding out of the gloves of Luis Resto, who went on to batter the unbeaten favourite, Billy Ray Collins. Collins was temporarily blinded and never boxed again. A year later he died in a car crash. Lewis and Resto were later banned from boxing for life and sent to prison for two and a half years.
Capetillo, who admitted his culpability, at the very least should never be allowed near a gym again. He is not only a disgrace to boxing (not that difficult a crime to commit, it has to be said), but he could have sent Margarito into the ring with two weapons every bit as deadly as those of Luis Resto.
Margarito is not blameless, of course, and his claim that he just held his hands up to be wrapped by Capetillo, unaware that he had inserted grout-like substances across his knuckles, will go down as one of boxing's most risible excuses, one that the California State Athletic Commission dismissed in handing down their judgment. Margarito's one-year ban applies throughout the United States but it was disturbing to hear that his promoter, Bob Arum, might try to get him work in Mexico where the California-born fighter now lives instead.
The Harvard-educated Arum, a man who knows how to work a court room, exploded indignantly after the hearing: "To take a kid who's done nothing wrong and revoke his licence for a year are you crazy?"
It's Arum who's crazy like a fox. Of course Margarito knew what Capetillo was doing unless he's never seen grout in his life, or, worse, this is how his trainer wraps his hands every time he fights. And you have to wonder if that has been the case. Had Margarito, a punishing hitter, not been found out before the fight by Mosley's alert trainer, Nazim Richardson, he could have put his opponent in hospital, or worse.
The hardened plaster found across the knuckle parts of the gauze wrapping Capetillo put on both of Margarito's hands would have turned them into rocks. It is hardly mitigating evidence that they were discovered and that Mosley subsequently gave Margarito the worst beating of his career.
These were the same fists, allegedly clean, that made such a mess of the Puerto Rican Miguel Cotto in his previous fight, in Las Vegas last July. The Nevada State Athletic Commission protested it would have been impossible for such a crime to go undetected in their jurisdiction, so rigorous are their pre-fight inspections.
How reassuring. But forgive me for remaining cynical. In nearly 40 years covering this weird and wonderful business, I've seen dodgy scales and phantom punches, I've seen fighters so weight-drained they've barely been able to lift their arms, I've heard all the whispers, witnessed the contractual shenanigans, rigged ratings, law suits, failed drugs tests and some stuff you don't want to know about.
When prizefighters first donned gloves in the 19th century, it was to guard their hands in sparring. When gloves were introduced to competition, they were similarly flimsy. There were still knockouts galore, bad ones. Now championship fights require gloves of eight or ten ounces and some people argue that the consequently longer bouts do more damage but that is a separate, if fascinating argument. The regulations are designed to give both boxers an equal chance; hiding concrete in your hands doesn't quite fulfil that objective.
The power of a punch, even without illegal linings in gloves, can be frightening. One of Brendan Ingle's hardest punchers was Naseem Hamed. Before his penultimate fight, against Marco Antonio Barrera in 2001, there were long, loud arguments about the sort of gloves they would use. More telling was the observation at the time by Hamed on the power of his punch. "This right here," he said, stroking his chin, "is flesh and bone. Any chin, no matter which muscle man, no matter who it is, any living soul with a chin only needs three and a half pounds of pressure [to go]. I'm generating more than three and a half pounds of pressure."
Here are some frightening numbers. Hamed weighed nine stone, but floored much bigger men in sparring. He was, literally, lethal. So was Henry Cooper, a relatively small heavyweight. When 'Enry threw his famous 'Ammer, it was estimated at the time (perhaps fancifully) that it travelled 15 times faster than a Saturn V rocket and generated three tons of force.
George Chuvalo had one of the best chins in the history of boxing and prided himself on never having been knocked down. This is what he said about someone who tried: "Getting hit by Joe Frazier was like getting hit at 100 miles an hour by a Pontiac." Try getting up from that.
I'd like to believe Margarito when he says: "I've never cheated. I've never been in a situation like this before." To do so, however, would require the sort of faith in mankind found only in monasteries. As Freddie Roach says: "I don't trust anybody in this game."
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