by David P. Greisman
When 28 pugilists with varying levels of experience were cast for boxing reality shows “The Next Great Champ” and “The Contender,” few sought to become “reality stars,” an obscenity of a label created in the nineties that implied the 15 minutes of fame that Andy Warhol said everyone would be world famous for.
The dozen contestants on “The Next Great Champ” were new, inexperienced professionals seeking what essentially amounted to a developmental contract, working toward the prize of something called an eight-round title belt.
But the 16 fighters attempting to become “The Contender” covered a wider spectrum, from relatively green to relatively gray, young bucks and older veterans that desired the “Contender Championship,” one million dollars and, just as importantly, the ability to cash in on newfound fame.
The premise of the latter show was that, for varying reasons, these were boxers that had been passed over on the road to relevance. One entrant, Tarick Salmaci, had been inactive for three and a half years, jaded at the way the business had treated him, desperate for one more chance in the sport.
In an era when names like Omarosa and Richard Hatch remained on the cultural bubble without any sense of prominence or pertinence, surely a select handful of the 28 could take true talent, win their competitions and use the airwaves as a vehicle for a brighter future.
Unfortunately for the cast of “The Next Great Champ,” the show was a failure, booted promptly from broadcast television to a cable network, a choice indicative of an overwhelming lack of quality. If ever a nickname was proper, the contestants were “The Not Ready for Primetime Players,” prospects with lesser pedigrees that needed a wealth of fine-tuning before they could attain wealth as a whole.
As for “The Contender,” it lasted a whole season on NBC before the network suits opted not to pick it up for a second run. Yet the show had performed relatively well, thanks in part to a monstrous budget and some breakout personalities. While Otis Griffin, the winner of “The Next Great Champ,” toiled on undercards, there were millions of viewers who knew contestants from “The Contender,” rooting for the likes of Alfonso Gomez, Peter Manfredo Jr. and Sergio Mora.
When ESPN signed on for season two, it was not only a chance to perform the same magic for a new group of fighters, but an opportunity to put a spotlight on season one’s potential stars.
Yet there comes a point when the 15 minutes run out, and the pressure is on for these temporary stars to achieve permanence by proving that they are more than just the flavor of the moment, owning depth beyond the proverbial pretty face.
It was Mora who won the money on the show’s finale, outpointing Manfredo for the grand prize, and he cemented that he was no shooting star by repeating the result last October, decisioning Manfredo controversially in the rematch.
Yet nearly a year after the show debuted, it is Manfredo making the first major step up in competition, trying to prove that he is better than second best.
The obstacle in his way is super middleweight Scott Pemberton, a longtime veteran, a man who has challenged for world title belts and a former sparring partner for “The Pride of Providence.” He is bigger, he is stronger and he is more experienced.
He is still a threat, and thus he is perfect for the occasion.
While Mora is able to somehow use his Contender wins to receive rankings from some silly pundits and observers, Manfredo is following the old fashioned manner of fighting crossroads fights, taking advantage of declining names to leap frog into contention.
And contending is what boxing is all about.
Artists often have to choose whether they will create for love or for money, understanding that it is difficult to do both. It is similar for boxers.
Boxers thrive on competition, on exerting their wills to become kings of the hills, knowing that pride is the greatest prize. If their performances demonstrate their skills, then the money should come to pay the bills.
But when the paychecks came in for some participants on “The Contender,” the possibility was that their demeanors could change, that they would demand paydays based on celebrity, based on being on a reality show, but not based on reality.
Hence it is truly important that the Moras and Manfredos and Ishe Smiths jump back into the fray, toiling to rise up the ranks while using their time on television to ensure that promoters will no longer pass over them as not worthwhile of performing on their cards.
They need to become true contenders, helping themselves while simultaneously showing that their reality show was not just a gimmick, blazing a path for future contestants to follow suit.
Shaking loose that tag of “reality star” can extend the 15 minutes for valid reasons. While traveling the road may mean putting aside eight-round title belts or “Contender Championships,” the true prize is the pride of growing from incidental reality star to consequential superstar.
The 10 Count will return next week.
