By Charles Jay
Like it or not, the "circus act" has always occupied a place, albeit a dubious one, in the boxing world.

For every Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard or Roy Jones Jr., moving about the ring with style, grace and fluidity, there's a Mark Gastineau or Ed "Too Tall" Jones, clinging onto the fringes while offering little to the sport, save for the prospect of exploiting themselves, and the public, in the cheap pursuit of a buck or two.

But the proverbial boxing sideshow has, almost without exception, been just that — relegated to the side, safely distanced from that which would be looked upon as substantive, important, or mainstream within the industry.

Is that in the process of changing? Has one of the circus acts emerged to the point where it is positioned front and center in the landscape of what is traditionally boxing's glamour division? And is it just a pathetic sign of the times in the depressed heavyweight picture?

These are the questions being asked in some corners of the fight game these days, inspired by the rise of a figure who may just be on the verge of boxing's Holy Grail.

Nikolay Valuev is a giant of a man, standing at 7-foot (by most accounts anyway) and regularly weighing in at over 320 pounds. Though many people may not be aware of it, he is currently the heavyweight champion of the world, at least as far as the World Boxing Association is concerned.

The former basketball player from St. Petersburg, Russia, who now fights out of Germany, won the title on Dec. 17 with a 12-round majority nod over John Ruiz, a decision that was hotly disputed by the Ruiz camp and many in the crowd, which had been overwhelming partisan toward Valuev when the night began.

Controversy or not, both his life and career are good for Valuev right now, and with plenty of opportunity staring at him, there is the chance to become a worldwide star if everything goes right from here.

Other 7-foot fighters

Charles Freeman:
Freeman, a bare-knuckle fighter known as "The American Giant," had been billed as 7-foot-6 at some point, but was actually closer to 6-foot-10. He went to England in 1842 amid quite a buildup by the New York press, who ascribed a phony record to Freeman and touted him as a mammoth superathelete who would bring back the world championship.

Indeed, he competed against William "Not the Refrigerator" Perry, for what was hyped as the first world heavyweight championship under London Prize Ring rules (seems there were split titles even then). The fight, which had to be moved due to police intervention and resumed 10 days later, resulted in Perry going down in the 107th round without being hit by a blow.

Freeman eventually quit fighting, then became a stage actor and later a circus performer

Jim Cully:
Cully, the "Fighting Demon" out of Ireland, was 7-foot-4, limited in terms of ability, and recognized all by himself at one time as the world's tallest prizefighter by the Guinness Book of Records. He fought in the U.S., and was rather unceremoniously disposed of in three rounds by Earl Pierce in May of 1948

Ewart Potgieter:
He was a 7-foot-2 South African known as the "Vrybum Giant." He had at least 14 recorded pro fights, and was a serviceable type, having boxed to a 10-round draw in November of 1955 with James J. Parker, a capable heavyweight of the 1950s who had given top contender Nino Valdes quite a difficult time.

John Rankin:
Rankin was transformed into a fighter by opportunists who happened upon him when he was working as a hotel doorman in New Orleans. An African-American who stood 7-foot-4, weighed 300 pounds, wore a size 18½ shoe and had a reach of 90 inches, he was promoted as nothing more than a sideshow. In November of 1967, he scored a four-round decision in the Crescent City over Willie Lee, who was outweighed by 102¼ pounds.

Gogea Mitu:
A 7-foot-4, 330-pound Romanian, he had a limited number of fights that were recorded, but it is known that in 1935 he was knocked out in four rounds by George Godfrey, one of the leading black heavyweights of the '20s and '30s, who had a draw with an aging Sam Langford and wins over the likes of Paulino Uzcudun, Tiger Jack Fox and Jack Roper.

Gil Anderson:
Anderson, of Richmond, Calif., listed at 7 feet, had at least two fights in the Golden State in 1954, both knockout wins. The second fight was scheduled for eight rounds, indicating Anderson probably had more experience than that.

Luis Alberto Gonzalez:
Gonzalez came to Miami from Colombia in 1985. He stood just a shade over 7 feet, and moved rather well in the ring for someone his size. However, his health was somewhat questionable even as he turned pro, and after running up six wins over opponents with a combined record of 2-23, he was discovered to have a heart murmur and was barred from fighting by the Florida commission.

Tom Payne:
Payne has become a tragic figure, although initially he was an historic one. The 7-foot-2 center was the first black basketball player ever signed by Adolph Rupp at the University of Kentucky and later participated in 29 games with the NBA's Atlanta Hawks in the 1971-72 season. He was soon in trouble with the law, though, enduring the first of three rape convictions — all in different states. In between jail terms, he found the time to become a boxer, first in amateur competition (he was banned from Golden Gloves tournaments because he was too tall), and then as a pro, chalking up a 2-2 record from 1984-85. Payne is currently in prison for rape in his native Kentucky.

Carl "The Eclipse" Chancellor:
Chancellor a record-setting discus thrower in college, engaged in 11 pro fights between 1988-98, compiling a record of 3-6-2. Chancellor was 7-foot-1 and fought at a relatively svelte 296 pounds in 1989. But he eventually ballooned to well over 400 pounds. In fact, he officially weighed in at 430 pounds in July of 1993 when he lost a decision to Carl McGrew. He may have scaled at an even higher weight in his career, except that on at least one occasion, the local commission did not have an apparatus capable of recording that much poundage.

Mike "The Giant" White:
White was often said to be a 7-footer, but was actually 6-foot-10. The Michigan native fought a host of leading heavyweights, including Michael Moorer, Pierre Coetzer and Jorge Luis Gonzalez, and scored a come-from-behind, ninth-round TKO over former heavyweight champion Buster Douglas in December of 1983.

Marcellus Brown:
A 7-footer out of Benton Harbor, Mich. has fought world champions Tommy Morrison, Trevor Berbick and Lamon Brewster. Of his 15 pro losses, nine were knockout defeats in the first three rounds. Amazingly, Brown, who weighed 273 pounds for his last fight against Yanqui Diaz (September of 2004), weighed in at just 197 for a bout against John Morton in March of 1990.

Coincidentally, Morton went on to become the pro debut opponent for Valuev, making him one of a select group of boxers to have fought TWO 7-footers.

Julius Long:
The Detroit native, known as "The Towering Inferno," is still active as a pro fighter. Standing at an even 7-foot, Long previously campaigned at around 270-280 pounds but more recently came down into the 230s. He sports a 14-7 record and holds a win over previously undefeated Russian Nicolay Popov. Long has also been beaten by the likes of Tye Fields, Rob Calloway, Leo Nolan and Audley Harrison. He is the brother of Grant Long, who played 15 years for five different NBA teams, and nephew of John Long, a 13-year NBA veteran, yet towers over both of those hoopsters.

Fernand Contat and Ted Evans:
Two other giants, if they had ever turned pro, would have, by all accounts, become record-setters. Contat, a French strongman of the 1930s, was said to be 7-foot-8 and 415 pounds, and trained to become a fighter, but never got into a bout. Perhaps promoters used him purely as a publicity gag or just couldn't find anyone who would fight him.

Evans, a Brit, stood a reported 7-foot-6 and was actively in training to be a boxer in 1946. That never happened; Evans later became part of Ringling Bros. circus and died after making an appearance at Madison Square Garden in 1959.

Valuev, however, could have easily found himself reduced to little more than an oddity put on display for the amusement of gawkers.

"The guy has been through seven promoters by now," says Don Majeski, the peripatetic matchmaker and agent who makes his living on the international front, "and he was never looked upon as a fighter. They all looked at him like some kind of freak show, and promoted him that way. So of course they had a lot of guys laying down in front of him."

Valuev, who turned pro in October of 1993 weighing 312 3/4 pounds, nearly always enjoys a weight advantage of 80-100 pounds over opponents. He advanced to the point where he had won both the Russian and Pan Asian Boxing Association (PABA) heavyweight titles, and had found himself inserted into the WBA's world ratings in November of 2000, but his career wasn't really going anywhere, largely due to the lack of a believability factor.

In 2003, Valuev joined forces with German promoter Wilfred Sauerland and began to make some genuine strides.

"Sauerland treated Valuev like he was a real boxer, which nobody had ever really done before," said Majeski, who serves as an advisor to Sauerland. "He began to put him with the right kind of opponents, so that he could develop. I mean, this guy didn't really learn how to fight until about a year and a half ago."

Under Sauerland, Valuev posted wins over journeymen Bob Mirovic and Dickie Ryan, former WBC cruiserweight champ Marcelo Dominguez, Italian Paolo Vidoz — who would go on to win the European heavyweight title, previously undefeated Gerald Nobles (who was DQ'd for low blows and reportedly terrified) and Swedish import Attila Levin. He won a majority decision over Larry Donald last Oct. 1, which led to the WBA world title bout with Ruiz just 10 weeks later.

Valuev's ring style is nothing unique. He's more or less an orthodox fighter, who throws out a long left jab, uses his reach to tie his opponents up, and can do some damage with either hand, if he catches his foe just right. That's what happened to Clifford Etienne, the former contender, outweighed by 115 1/2 pounds, whom Valuev dispatched in three rounds last May, in a fight that led to the WBA elimination bout against Donald.

Even getting that far placed Valuev in a class well above all the 7-foot fighters who came before him.

There is very little comparison one can make between other 7-foot fighters and Valuev, who has accomplished more, has better rudimentary skills, and has better movement in the ring than virtually all of those fighters mentioned in the accompanying chart.

This is not to say that Valuev should be confused with a ballet dancer. But when considered within the context of other giants who have competed with gloves on, his presence has already been more significant than any of them and Valuev stands alone in terms of elevating himself into a position of true world prominence.

There is a bit more of an aura about Valuev as well. The fact that he does possess some basic ability has gone a long way toward cementing a psychological advantage against many of his opponents, as a function of his immensity.

But while Valuev's size may well be an intimidating factor against a certain class of heavyweight, there have been no shortage of people who wish to step forward and challenge him. Valuev's people appear to be in no hurry to put the WBA crown at serious risk, and those "people" now number among them one Don King, who became a promotional partner when he made a deal prior to the Ruiz fight.

Not surprisingly, the opponent slated for an April 1 title defense is a fighter from the King stable — Owen Beck, who earned his shot by virtue of consecutive defeats to Monte Barrett and Ray Austin and an eight-round decision win over Darnell Wilson, a natural light heavyweight.

When Valuev comes to the U.S. in September, it will most likely be part of a doubleheader with WBA middleweight champ Arthur Abraham. The possible foes being discussed include Austin and Kevin McBride, the so-so New Englander who stopped a discombobulated Mike Tyson last June.

The rationale is not hard to figure. There is one fight on the horizon that would mean far more than any others, at least from a financial perspective.

"Of course, the fight I think they'd eventually be aiming at is with Wladimir Klitschko, if he winds up beating Chris Byrd for the IBF title," says Majeski. "The gate for that fight would be colossal, maybe the biggest live gate in the history of boxing in Germany."

Valuev has drawn big crowds in his adopted homeland, but curiously, very few people in America have had the opportunity to watch him fight. In fact, during the television era, Valuev may be one of only a couple of fighters who, at the time he won a recognized heavyweight championship, has been almost unrecognizable on U.S. television. (Former WBO champ Herbie Hide may fit in here, too.) There may be a certain design associated with that, because mystique has a way of disappearing with exposure, especially if your ability does not match your dimensions — and in Valuev's case, how could they?

But the fact of the matter is that the demand for Valuev in America is rather elastic to this point. The fight with Ruiz was unwanted by any U.S. television networks and was only able to happen because of $1 million that came from European TV. The title fight against Beck is as yet unsold to any television entities here. The plan is that the September fight will be on HBO, and if Valuev gets past that, surely a fight in December with a mandatory contender will be worthy of more television interest.

There are other reasons for not rushing over to these shores. One of them has to do with basic economics. There is simply more money to be made through live audiences and television in Europe, which is more familiar territory for Sauerland.

Another is that a New Jersey-based businessman, Joe O'Donnell, has a claim to Valuev's promotional rights in the United States. Indeed, he did promote Valuev's fight in Atlantic City against George Linberger in 2001, and after O'Donnell won a preliminary round in court the case is still being contested, with the issue of international jurisdiction complicating things.

And then there is the matter of an assault charge Valuev now faces in Russia, where he is said to have roughed up a 61-year-old security guard at a skating rink, because he allegedly was rude to Valuev's wife.

It may be a stretch to say that Valuev is the "heavyweight of the future." But people his size are getting more agile and athletic with each passing year. Many of those athletes have gravitated toward basketball, but what if Valuev were to put together a significant title reign? Would it cause a change to the way boxing's so-called "governing bodies" lay things out in the heavyweight class, mindful of the fact that they are always on the lookout for more opportunities to earn sanctioning fees?

After all, in the days of Joe Louis and as recently as Rocky Marciano and Floyd Patterson, top-flight heavyweights often weighed less than 200 pounds. Long after it was well-established that leading heavyweights were getting naturally bigger and stronger (notwithstanding occasional exceptions like Leon and Michael Spinks, Roy Jones or James Toney), the cruiserweight division was instituted, in order to fill the vacuum that now existed between the 175-pound limit (light heavy) and where the "real" heavyweights were.

Will there be a point where fighters under, say, 220 pounds might be unable to compete with any kind of consistency in the upper reaches of the division? If Valuev experiences success, and there are some indications that he may be a harbinger of things to come, could a "super heavyweight" classification soon become part of the fabric of boxing?

Hank Kaplan, a recent Hall of Fame inductee who is perhaps the foremost boxing historian alive, can see a possible shift in that tide.

"Depending on how well this guy (Valuev) does," says Kaplan, "that will inspire the 'super dreadnaught' class, if you get two or three more of those kind of guys."

Whether Valuev himself is one of "those kind of guys" is something that remains to be seen. And when it comes to most people on this side of the pond, the phrase "remains to be seen" is something that must be digested in the literal sense.