“Fighting Words” – I Am No Larry Merchant (Yet)

by David P. Greisman

“I have a face made for radio and a voice made for print.” The classic line holds true for me, too.

That never mattered. Over nearly five years of covering boxing, my thoughts had remained almost exclusively in print form.

That changed the other week.

A fellow writer asked if I would do color commentary for a boxing broadcast in Boston. I didn’t think twice about accepting the gig, though I did have two thoughts about the gig itself:

“Yes!”

And…

“Oh, no.”

Writers have the luxury of thinking before they type, of observing, pondering and then crafting sentences word by word. Broadcasters confront the needs and drawbacks of immediacy. They must think on their feet, speak as the action happens and do so with the understanding that there is no “backspace” or “delete” button.

Several writers have found varying degrees of success in putting down the keyboard and donning the headset.

Larry Merchant, now of HBO, once was a reporter, editor and columnist who had gigs at newspapers such as the Philadelphia Daily News and the New York Post. Steve Farhood was a young writer who became a young broadcaster nearly three decades ago. He still writes, and he still broadcasts, too, on series such as Showtime’s “ShoBox: The New Generation” and Lou DiBella’s “Broadway Boxing.”

Ron Borges, now of the Boston Herald, has filled the analyst role on a number of shows. So, too, has Wally Matthews, the Newsday scribe who can be seen and heard on Versus’ “Fight Night Live,” and Doug Fischer, the RingTV.com writer who is part of the broadcast team on Versus’ new “Fight Night Club” series.

All of them have far more experience than me when it comes to writing and talking about boxing.

All of them had to start somewhere.

In the days before my debut, I prepared, hoping that nervousness would make way for readiness.

I had seen some of the fighters before. Mike Oliver, a 122-pounder who was to face Castulo Gonzalez, had been knocked out last year by Reynaldo Lopez on ESPN2’s now-defunct “Wednesday Night Fights.” Elvin Ayala, a middleweight who was to meet Eddie Caminero, had fought to a draw with Sergio Mora and then suffered a one-punch knockout against Arthur Abraham.

Danny O’Connor, a 2008 Olympic alternate campaigning in the pro ranks as a junior welterweight, had boxed at two shows I’d covered live. And a pair of undercard fighters – Caminero and heavyweight Rashad Minor – also appeared on shows at which I’d been on press row.

I printed up the records of every fighter listed for the card on an online schedule. I set up an interview with “Iceman” John Scully, the former world title challenger now working as a trainer. Scully trains Oliver.

And then I sought advice.

“You’re at the mercy, somewhat, of the blow-by-blow man, the captain,” said one writer-slash-broadcaster, who jokingly called me “competition” before graciously taking time to give me some tips. “He needs to know how to use you.

“Analysis is the easy part. You know boxing,” I was told. “The challenge is to condense your thoughts.” Also: “This is a visual medium. Give the viewers something they may not see. Why is the jab landing? Give them the why as opposed to the what.”

I was told not to worry about being great. I listened, and then made the two-hour drive to The Roxy, a nightclub on Tremont Street south of Boston Common, and all along the way I worried about being good.

I was a lot less nervous than I could have been. The card would not be broadcast live. Instead, it would air online, tape-delayed, each bout an on-demand pay-per-view. Only some of the fights would be put online. The rest of the undercard I could use to get acclimated, to get my feet wet and find on-air chemistry with my broadcast partner.

And I wasn’t in it alone. Working with me was Peter Czymbor of 8CountNews.com. Czymbor is young – he’s 21 – but he’s driven, knowledgeable and experienced. He’s a regular at New England boxing shows, and he’s been broadcasting since he was 9. These bouts would air on his new venture, NESportsTV.com

I got to The Roxy about 90 minutes before the first bout was scheduled to begin. It’s a fantastic venue, one that’s been featured on several occasions on television. The boxing ring is set up in the middle of the ballroom. Balconies hang above it on all sides. Anyone in a balcony is pretty much on top of the action.

The view from press row isn’t as good as what people get on their television screens. Writers don’t move with the action. They don’t always have the best angle. And they can’t get close-ups.

Czymbor and I were broadcasting from a balcony, standing next to our producer and, for this show, his one camera. We would see what the camera would see. We had a good perspective on nearly everything that went on in front of us. And at times, we would need to talk about what the camera might not capture – trickles of blood and swelling flesh, the response from the crowd, and what was happening in a fighter’s corner between rounds.

Before the show got going, we headed down to ring level. We knew we were going to air at least four fights – Oliver-Gonzalez, Ayala-Caminero, O’Connor’s bout with Sebastien Hamel and a heavyweight tilt between Phillip Miller and Steve Jaegar. We needed to shoot “stand-ups,” introductions that would air at the beginning of each bout and would lead into interviews Czymbor had done with the fighters.

I have a face made for radio and a voice made for print. I’m also short. And bald. We could compensate for one but not the other.

Czymbor, like most people, is taller than me. So as not to distract viewers with the visual disparity between the two of us, we took a folding chair, folded it and laid it down on the floor. I stood on it, maybe an inch-and-a-half higher than before. Maybe. As for my lack of hair, the producer, also bald, noted he didn’t have any powder. But the lights weren’t reflecting off my head, so all was well.

We started with our first stand-up.

We stopped not too far into it.

I can think on my feet. I’d done 12 minutes on the radio a couple of years ago after Oscar De La Hoya lost to Floyd Mayweather Jr. But it wasn’t too hard to opine about two superstars who had just fought. I found myself searching for ideas on what to say about fighters with whom I was far less familiar. I stumbled over my words. We had to do multiple takes for a couple of our stand-ups.

I still stumbled. I spoke very quickly, as I would for much of the night. I cringe when watching.

Czymbor and I had one fight to find our chemistry – Frankie Trader’s fourth-round stoppage of Gerardo Alarcon. I felt we had done pretty well. Now it was show time. Ayala-Caminero, for some reason, was on second.

Caminero came out aggressively. Ayala, whose 19-3-1 record showed far more experience and a higher level of opposition than the 5-1 Caminero, withstood the onslaught and then moved away. Czymbor noted that Caminero was just coming off his first loss and was now facing someone who had just recently fought for a world title. That took courage, Czymbor said.

“You can’t lose, even if you lose,” I said, happily finding a storyline to talk about. “If you lose, you lost to a guy who challenged for the world title. If you win, you beat a guy who challenged for the world title.”

I soon followed what I felt was a good comment with what I knew was stumbling and rambling.

“This is like playing the New York Yankees when they were dominating Major League Baseball,” I said, sounding as if I didn’t know where I was going with my thought. “If he goes in there and looks good, he will get confidence from it.”

Our producer had told us that, with one camera, we needed to be aware of not having too much dead air, because a viewer could otherwise get bored with too much quiet and without a change in camera angles. At times, that left me straying from my goal of being closer to Larry Merchant in his sparing style than to Teddy Atlas and his considerable contributions.

Czymbor and I had got the formula down, for the most part. I usually could tell when he was done speaking, and then I would throw something in, or he would say my name while making an observation, a cue for me to expand.

Early on, I noted that Ayala was having no difficulty landing through Caminero’s defense, gloves put on his temples like earmuffs that did nothing in the way of parrying and little in the way of blocking. Ayala was breaking through with jabs straight through the guard and uppercuts straight up the guard, I said, and doing so with the latter when Caminero was lunging forward recklessly.

In the third round, Caminero again threw a number of shots and left himself wide open for a nice left uppercut from Ayala. Caminero went down before rising on unsteady legs. Ayala closed in, sent forth a jab and a right cross. Caminero went down again, and the fight was over.

I don’t hope for a certain outcome when I cover a fight. That said, Caminero’s loss worked well for me – I had thought of a line in anticipation of the result that had just come about:

“Micky Ward is the trainer of Eddie Caminero. Micky Ward is most famous for his three fights with Arturo ‘Thunder’ Gatti,” I said. “Caminero’s nickname is also ‘Thunder.’ He came in looking to rumble. Instead, he crashed.”

We had six fights to go.

At times, I was like lightning, bright and sharp, explaining how, for example, Roberto Burgess would need to cut off the ring and use timing to rebound after struggling early on against Andrey Nevsky, who had fast hands and quick feet. Burgess did just that, though Nevsky ultimately scored a beautiful knockout victory.

Other times, however, I fizzled. I recall complaining about O’Connor’s bout with Hamel, which saw a fighter with little knockout power against an opponent who was mostly on the defensive. At one point, I called their match a “pillow fight,” and immediately turned to look at Czymbor, thinking, “Did I just say that?” I had no backspace or delete button.

Czymbor did his best to save me. “I’d hate to get hit with those pillows,” I recall him responding.

Eventually we got to the main event, which I had been looking forward to because I had gotten some good details in my interview with Oliver’s trainer, John Scully. But Oliver-Gonzalez ended abruptly in the second round, when a clash of heads opened a bad cut over Gonzalez’s eye.

The standing-room-only crowd began to file out. Our night was just about over, too.

Czymbor and I were originally to have filmed four more stand-ups to sum up each fight we were to broadcast. But at the end of each bout, Czymbor had asked me for my final thoughts, and Czymbor had conducted a pair of post-fight interviews with Phillip Miller and Danny O’Connor.

We finished up with one more stand-up. I stumbled over my words toward the end of my final thought on Ayala-Caminero and then got this look in my eyes as if I was thinking, “I was so close.”

I was so close. And, well, I’ve got so far to go.

This is the 230th “Fighting Words” column I’ve written. Nearly five years ago, when I first started covering boxing, I had articles which I thought were written well, articles that I now can barely stand to read, and articles that fall somewhere in-between.

I had to start somewhere.

I’m not quite as young as Czymbor – I’m 27 – but I’d like to consider myself driven and knowledgeable. I need more experience.

I’m no Larry Merchant. Yet.

The 10 Count

1.  Floyd Mayweather Jr. owes nearly $6.4 million in back taxes and unresolved debts, according to Associated Press reporter Oskar Garcia, who did some digging into public records.

The Internal Revenue Service filed a lien on one of Mayweather’s houses saying it was owed $6.17 million in unpaid taxes from 2007. He also owes New Jersey $193,000 in state taxes. Back in Clark County, Nev., three homeowner’s associations claim Mayweather owes a total of $9,400, a contractor who programmed electronics at one of Mayweather’s homes filed a lien for approximately $3,900 and a trash collector filed a lien for $320.10.

Mayweather has paid off IRS liens before, according to the report, paying nearly $6.3 million in unpaid taxes from 2001, 2003, 2005 and 2006 plus money to three homeowner’s associations.

2.  That said, jeers to Associated Press reporter Oskar Garcia, yet another media member who has made the mistake of writing that “Mayweather received a reported $20 million to wrestle” last year at WrestleMania 24.

No, no, no.

In May 2008, WWE officials revealed on a conference call what nearly everyone already knew – the $20 million payday was part of the storyline.

That was obvious from the get-go, as a $20 million payday was absolutely impossible considering the amount of revenue WWE receives from ticket sales and pay-per-view proceeds (and considering that even those wrestlers in the main events that drive the ticket sales and pay-per-view proceeds do not pull in those types of paychecks).

The problem with this sort of error is that it perpetuates. Last year, reporters Antonio Planas and Lawrence Mower of the Las Vegas Review Journal wrote that Mayweather earned $20 million for his WWE appearances.

Their source? The Associated Press.

3.  So, do I now have a newfound appreciation for what Teddy Atlas and Lennox Lewis do? Absolutely, yes.

But do I have a newfound appreciation for how Atlas and Lewis do what they do? Absolutely not.

Atlas and Lewis are paid professionals, and paid handsomely at that. Lewis needs to bring far more to HBO’s broadcasts and break down the action taking place in front of him. Conversely, Atlas needs to say far less on the ESPN2 “Friday Night Fights” shows and let blow-by-blow man Joe Tessitore get in more than the occasional comment. 

4.  And with this recent trip to Boston, it’s about time I give myself a new nickname.

About a year ago I proclaimed myself the “Not-So-Well-Traveled Man” while chronicling one of what was then a rare jaunt out from my section of New Hampshire to cover boxing live. In contrast, Lee Groves, a writer for MaxBoxing.com who pens weekly entries about his travels doing punch counting for CompuBox, had long referred to himself as “The Travelin’ Man.”

Since then, I’ve covered seven more shows in New England, made my way to Las Vegas to sit in press row for UFC 94, and driven down to New York City for the Boxing Writers Association of America awards dinner.

I still dream of the day when I can do this for a living and take my notepad and laptop across the country and around the globe. Until then, I will be… the “Not-As-Well-Traveled Man.”

Enough about me…

5.  Boxers Behaving Badly: Undefeated Scottish fighter Kenny Anderson has been charged with attempted murder, according to the Edinburgh Evening News.

Police say Anderson, 26, was one of two people who assaulted a man in late June, punching him and hitting him on the head with a hammer.

He is being held without bail.

As an amateur, Anderson captured gold at the 2006 Commonwealth Games, fighting as a light heavyweight. Since turning pro, he has won all 10 of his bouts, including seven by way of knockout. Anderson’s last appearance was in March, a 10-round points victory over some dude named Nathan King.

6.  Boxers Behaving Badly update: Lower-tier heavyweight Carl Davis Drumond has been released from police custody in Costa Rica after a woman who had accused him of rape decided not to press charges, according to that country’s Que newspaper (via BoxingScene’s own Mark Vester).

Drumond apparently spent 10 years behind bars for rape before being released in 2003 and faced similar charges last year before his accuser changed her story, according to the newspaper report.

Drumond, a 34-year-old who hails from Costa Rica, built up his 26-1 (20) record against largely anonymous opposition. His lone blemish came in his last appearance, a February technical decision loss to then-beltholder Ruslan Chagaev. The bout ended in the sixth round after an accidental headbutt.

7.  Meanwhile, two more fighters – one a former amateur boxer, the other currently a mixed martial artist – have gotten publicity for stopping crime.

Frank Corti, a 72-year-old who lives in a small village in England, made headlines the way he handled a would-be burglar, 23-year-old Gregory McCalium. According to reports from across the pond, McCalium forced his way into Corti’s home one morning last August. McCalium had a knife. Corti had his fists.

Corti dodged the knife, punched McCalium twice and then restrained him. A mugshot of McCalium shows a swollen lip and black eye. McCalium was sentenced last week to four-and-a-half years in prison.

8.  And the MMA fighter is Antoni Hardonk, who faced off with three robbers, one armed with a shank, not once, but twice.

Hardonk, a heavyweight who has an 8-5 record and competes in the UFC, had a trio of young men approach him and his attorney last month in Los Angeles and ask for money for cigarettes, according to Yahoo! Sports scribe Kevin Iole. When Hardonk realized he had no small bills for them, their request became an attempted robbery.

Hardonk convinced them that trying to rob him would be a bad idea. They ran away, but soon thereafter Hardonk spotted them surrounding a woman and then approaching a man. Hardonk chased after them, and one of the robbers dropped the man’s wallet.

9.  Frank Corti. Antoni Hardonk. And, from last month, boxer Nate Campbell and his adviser, Terry Trekas, who chased down two men who tried to grab a purse from a woman.

Tune in next week, when the foursome of Samaritans-slash-vigilantes take on the Joker, Dr. Octopus, Magneto and Lex Luthor.

10.  R.I.P. Alexis Arguello, 1952-2009.

David P. Greisman is a member of the Boxing Writers Association of America. His weekly column, “Fighting Words,” appears every Monday on BoxingScene.com. He may be reached for questions and comments at fightingwords1@gmail.com