By Cliff Rold

How fast can a decade go by?  Ask yourself where you were when then-undefeated heavyweight prospects David Tua and Ike Ibeabuchi squared off in a classic at Sacramento’s ARCO Arena on HBO’s Boxing After Dark (B.A.D.) 

That’s how fast.

It’s actually been more than a decade since that twelve round war of attrition in the summer of 1997 left audiences with their jaws on the floor.  The best of HBO’s Boxing After Dark is often, and fairly, remembered as the television launching pad for the smaller fighters and their wars, for Marco Antonio Barrera-Kennedy McKinney and the rise of Arturo Gatti. 

It also delivered with the big boys.  This weekend, it promises a return to that form with one of the better early career crossroads bouts, on paper, in the Heavyweight division since the B.A.D heyday.  28-year old undefeated 2004 Olympic Super Heavyweight Gold Medalist Alexander Povetkin (14-0, 11 KO) of Russia and 25-year old “Fast” Eddie Chambers (30-0, 16 KO) of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, face off for the right to challenge Wladimir Klitschko.  They have one hell of a legacy to live up to.

While Tua-Ibeabuchi is the most celebrated of the B.A.D. heavyweight brawls, it wasn’t the only bout of its kind.  Tua was the one of the centerpiece Heavyweights on the show from late 1996 to late 1998, participating in four grueling bouts.  The loss to Ibeabuchi was surrounded by late round, come from behind stoppages of David Izon, current titlist Oleg Maskaev, and eventual World Heavyweight champ Hasim Rahman.  Every one was must see stuff for boxing lovers.

So were a number of other brawls.  Oleg Maskaev knocked Hasim Rahman out of the ring; Derrek Jefferson knocked Maurice Harris nearly out of his shoes; Michael Grant almost developed into the next big thing.

And there was Ike.  We like Ike if “we” are boxing fans.  Not so much if we are and appreciate sane human beings.

Ibeabuchi was the upstart and the tragic waste.  His narrow decision win over Tua came out of nowhere.  Tua had some of the look, and arguably more power, than the young Mike Tyson and that made Ibeabuchi a revelation.  In a single fight, he exhibited size, a hard jab, power, speed, professional combinations and a monster chin. 

Then he went to jail for a botched abduction that left a child disabled and didn’t fight again for a year.  A second chance awaited Ibeabuchi when he returned and after two tune-up fights he stepped in the ring in March 1999 with his second undefeated B.A.D. foe.  The man he faced, future titlist Chris Byrd, couldn’t have been more different from Tua.  If Tua was analogous to a truck, then Byrd in 1999 was like a Segway, able to weave and buzz around while never looking dangerous. 

Byrd did just that in a classic style match until being trapped along the ropes in the fifth round and caught with a lethal hook that both he and fans at home drooling.  The buzz began again about Ibeabuchi, about the man who looked physically like the culmination of all the things anyone had ever wanted to see in a single Heavyweight.  Of course, as a precursor to the bad luck the division has endured in recent years, Ike would assault an escort and find himself in a jail cell again.  He’s still there. 

One can assume that Povetkin and Chambers will see themselves to better fates outside the ring.  Inside the ring their fates are currently locked and while their styles aren’t going to give us Ibeabuchi-Tua, they could provide something close to Ibeabuchi-Byrd. 

That’s a good B.A.D. thing as these are two quality burgeoning contenders no matter what weight we’re talking about.

Povetkin thus far has faced the tougher competition with wins against an aged but still tough Byrd and against veteran Larry Donald in his last two outings.  His hands are both quick and heavy and his amateur pedigree can’t be dismissed.  He’s a pressure fighter with solid boxing ability and plays the role Ike played against Byrd (even if with visibly less natural athletic chops). 

Chambers last two wins, against Dominic Guinn and Calvin Brock, are a step behind what Povetkin has been getting done but not a huge step.  Chambers already appears to be the next in line to replace Byrd as the undersized, underpowered overachiever in his class.  That won’t make him a threat to Klitschko, but it could be enough to derail the Povetkin express.

If it does not, then the slow build to the first legitimate all-Eastern Heavyweight superfight that could be Povetkin-Klitschko (which should not happen until 2009 no matter the IBF mandatory he’d earn with a Chambers win) will begin, perhaps resulting in a couple more B.A.D. nights for Povetkin along the way.  He’s a fitting continuation of the old days.

So is Chambers.

So is this fight.

On to last weekend…

Can’t Teach Class: Having already offered my thoughts this week on the fight itself, it is the post-fight press conference for Roy Jones-Tito Trinidad last Saturday that bears addressing.  It was standard fare during but, in the moments before it began, it was a sad place. 

Coming out of a brief jaunt to the restroom, a group of raised voices in the aisle towards the press conference area turned my attention left.  The only person who I recognized was the only person not talking. 

The argument was over a man trying to pass by to get to the press conference and a security person demanding his credential.  The people around the security person tried to explain who this quiet man was, tried to explain that he had a credential that may have dropped, tried without saying it explicitly that the man in question shouldn’t ever need a credential to get anywhere at a boxing event, especially at the Garden.  Those who tried were reasonable.

The security person was not.

In fact, the security person became shrill, loud and increasingly rude even as it was explained who she was being rude to.  The argument didn’t last long as what must have been a supervisor stepped in and told her to stop, recognizing a Garden legend by name if not face.  He let the quiet man pass.

As he did so, the security person said for all to hear, “How was I supposed to know who he was?  He didn’t say anything.  It’s not my fault he got punched in the head too many times.”  She continued on that way for a moment longer before returning to her duties. 

The quiet man was former three-time World Welterweight and two-time Middleweight champion Emile Griffith. 

Throughout the night, Griffith, who was at the fight with Iran Barkley and the young man from the Ring of Fire documentary whose name escapes me, had been in the press room and at ringside, saying hello to those who recognized him and to those he recognized himself.  He took photos and shook hands with fans and press alike.  It was the behavior of an almost seventy-year old man who has done enough in his life not to make a fuss about himself. 

Far from behaving punchy, Griffith just shook his head and smiled at the lady while those around him worked it out.  He’d already done his share of battling in the Garden and none of it of such small variety.  In short he was on Saturday what he appears always to have been: a class act.

Loud, shrill security lady could learn something about that from Griffith, but I doubt she’d ever shut up long enough to smile, shake her head, and keep moving.  If she’d done so on Saturday, she’d have heard the warm, loving round of applause that greeted Griffith when Don King introduced him to the assembled mass later that evening.

Cliff’s Notes…

Lots of things to talk about over the last week.  If you missed a syllable, here are my thoughts on:

Hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.

Cliff Rold is a member of the Ring Magazine Ratings Advisory Panel and the Boxing Writers Association of America.  He can be reached at roldboxing@hotmail.com