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Getty IMagesSo, did you hear about the fifty-something, formerly imprisoned, highly intimidating heavyweight about to return to the ring after a long layoff?
No, the other fifty-something, formerly imprisoned, highly intimidating heavyweight about to return to the ring after a long layoff.
It’s all about Mike Tyson in the boxing world this week, as the 58-year-old former heavyweight champ prepares for his first sanctioned boxing match since 2005. But just a wee bit more under the radar, Ike “The President” Ibeabuchi, the 51-year-old former future heavyweight champ who went to prison before he could secure a title shot, recently announced plans for his first sanctioned boxing match since 1999.
Back in his native Nigeria, Ibeabuchi is slated to fight on December 7, in a six-rounder on the undercard of a WBF (whatever that is) featherweight title fight, against one Ayman Farouk Abbas, a 47-year-old heavyweight from Egypt who turned pro after his 40th birthday and sports a record of 4-10-1 (1 KO).
It’s a fight that truly shouldn’t matter to anyone but Ibeabuchi and Abbas. It’s a fight of no real consequence in terms of the global boxing stage. There is no realistic chance that a 51-year-old man who hasn’t fought in 25 years is going to show back up and become a factor in the heavyweight division. Sadly, he’s probably not going to remotely resemble the fighter we remember from his thrilling victories over David Tua in 1997 and Chris Byrd in ’99. I caught a recent video of Ibeabuchi banging simulated body shots into a stack of car tires for three minutes and, while it’s hard to tell anything from one round against a stationary target that doesn’t punch back, he appeared to be moving with the speed and athleticism of, well, a 51-year-old. A formerly athletic 51-year-old, perhaps. But a 51-year-old just the same.
About the best-case scenario in terms of how far Ibeabuchi can go as a fighter now — and it’s highly unrealistic he even goes this far, but let’s dare to dream — would be for him to replicate the success of Tony Ayala, Jr. After a nearly 17-year layoff spent in prison, Ayala came back at age 36, beat five limited opponents, then gave former beltholder Yory Boy Campas an excellent fight before succumbing after eight rounds. He fought five more times after that, going 4-1, retiring at age 40, and heading back to prison soon after.
Never mind the return to prison or any of the other personal darkness — in terms of boxing, Ayala’s comeback saw him become a low-level TV attraction again and, though he didn’t reemerge as a contender, he at least got to the point where he could be competitive against a contender.
But he was about 15 years younger than Ibeabuchi is now, and was out of the ring for eight years fewer. It’s a major longshot that Ibeabuchi enjoys even as much success on this comeback as Ayala did.
The point is, this comeback fight next month should have no ripple effect on the rest of the sport whatsoever.
As a human interest story, though, it’s fascinating — even if largely in that rubber-necking-at-a-car-wreck kind of way. Not just because Ibeabuchi was gone for so long. But because of why he was gone for so long. And not just because of the crimes that landed him behind bars. But because of his mental state that no doubt contributed to those crimes.
In 2017, I put together an oral history-style podcast for HBO on Ibeabuchi, and in an interview for podcast, Eric Bottjer, the matchmaker for Ibeabuchi’s promoter Cedric Kushner, put it bluntly: “He’s the only fighter I’ve ever worked with who was mentally ill.”
Bottjer expounded over the course of our interview. “I was point blank,” Bottjer recalled of a conversation with Kushner. “I said, ‘This guy’s crazy. He’s going to hurt somebody. I don’t want it to be me or you or anybody else. But he’s quite capable of killing somebody.’”
When Ibeabuchi got out of prison in 2015, Bottjer received a call from a friend in Las Vegas who relayed that a friend of his was training Ibeabuchi for a possible comeback. Bottjer’s response: “I said, ‘Look, do me a favor, and I’m not being dramatic here: Tell your friend not to go around that man ever again. Like, just don’t go around him. He’s going to hurt somebody. He really is.’”
The stories Bottjer and others told that supported the notion of mental illness were numerous. There were tales of Ike believing there were evil spirits in the hotel air conditioning, refusing to fly because there were demons on the plane, refusing to go to a weigh-in unless he was referred to as The President, refusing to fight unless someone got him a Snickers bar, turning down an offer of $1 million to fight Michael Grant and demanding $10 million, attacking a sparring partner because he somehow convinced himself that sparring partner wore a sharp ring under his boxing gloves, and stabbing a restaurant table with a steak knife while out for a meal with then-HBO executive Lou DiBella.
Then there’s the serious stuff. Getting arrested for a violent outburst at an airport. Seemingly trying to kill himself and a teenage passenger by driving a car into a concrete pillar. The crimes against a prostitute in Vegas that led to a sentence of 2-10 years for battery with intent to commit a crime plus 3-20 years for attempted sexual assault.
I have no idea if Ibeabuchi is a different person now, if his mental health has improved through either medication or the passage of time, and if he’s no longer a dangerous individual outside the ring.
But as a general rule, I believe in second chances. Whatever he may have done in the past, if Ike Ibeabuchi is physically fit to box, I support him getting the chance to do so. It won’t change his status as the greatest “what if” of his generation. But he’ll get something resembling answers, for himself at least, by getting a chance to box again.
In his prime, certain people around him overlooked his various issues because they saw dollar signs. It shouldn’t be like that now. Nobody figures to be trying too hard to cover for him, because the chance of Ibeabuchi generating real money is so extraordinarily remote.
He’s not under the spotlight that Tyson will be under on Friday night. Quite the opposite. Ibeabuchi gets to find out if he can still fight at all with hardly anybody watching him.
He had all the ability in the world. This is a man who, according to CompuBox, took 282 punches from Tua over 12 rounds and never appeared hurt, and a man who walked down and knocked out the almost unhittable Byrd. A fighter who can do those two things is a championship-caliber talent in any era.
“He definitely was, other than Lennox Lewis, the best heavyweight of his era, as far as talent,” Bottjer told me. “And he would’ve given Lewis a hell of a fight.”
That fighter Bottjer describes, that fighter we saw against Byrd, that fighter we saw against Tua — that fighter is gone. He has to be.
Ibeabuchi vs. Abbas is not an important fight for boxing. But it’s fascinating in its own way. It’s a second chance 27 years in the making.
The guy getting the second chance isn’t so young anymore. Neither are any of the hardcore fans who’ve been anxiously awaiting this day. Generations of fighters have come and gone since Ibeabuchi was last in the ring. The last time Ibeabuchi fought, current heavyweight prospect/contender Jared “Big Baby” Anderson was still eight months away from being born.
It's a bizarre story — more bizarre perhaps than Tyson fighting a former Disney Channel star in 2024 for millions of dollars.
I hope, probably against hope, that Ibeabuchi is of sound mind. And I hope, perhaps more realistically, that getting the chance to fight again gives him some peace of mind.
Eric Raskin is a veteran boxing journalist with more than 25 years of experience covering the sport for such outlets as BoxingScene, ESPN, Grantland, Playboy, Ringside Seat, and The Ring (where he served as managing editor for seven years). He also co-hosted The HBO Boxing Podcast, Showtime Boxing with Raskin & Mulvaney, The Interim Champion Boxing Podcast with Raskin & Mulvaney, and Ring Theory. He has won three first-place writing awards from the BWAA, for his work with The Ring, Grantland, and HBO. Outside boxing, he is the senior editor of CasinoReports and the author of 2014’s The Moneymaker Effect. He can be reached on X or LinkedIn, or via email at RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com.
