There’s no way of knowing exactly how many William Joppy fans there were inside Madison Square Garden on May 12, 2001. But it sure seemed like a number that you could count on two hands. Maybe with your fingers inside of boxing gloves.
Twenty-five years ago today, an announced crowd of 18,235 filed into MSG to watch Felix Trinidad take on Joppy in the former’s 160lbs debut, a semifinal tournament match in Don King’s Middleweight World Championship Series, and it sure sounded like damned near all of them were of Puerto Rican heritage and were there to scream their lungs out in support of “Tito.”
This was Trinidad’s first fight since his epic 12th-round knockout of Fernando Vargas. He was a boxing mega-star reaching his absolute peak of popularity, returning to the Garden for the first time in a couple of years. MSG executives said they were expecting between 14,000 and 15,000 fans. And they got 18,235. That was the most for a non-heavyweight fight at MSG in six years. It was enough to make this the third-highest grossing fight ever at the Garden to that point.
I was there, seated at ringside. And what stands out to me 25 years later is the noise – the ear-splitting roar that emanated from that seemingly 99.9 per cent Puerto Rican crowd throughout the festivities.
From when Tito first climbed the ring steps and saluted his fans, to when Jimmy Lennon Jnr spoke his name into the microphone, to when Joppy went down in the first and then again in the fourth and then Trinidad finished him in the fifth, at no point during any of it did the thunder relent.
It was a vocal expression of passion unlike any I’d heard before. It was a party with more than 18,000 of Trinidad’s closest friends.
It was, in my nearly 30 years on the beat, the loudest boxing match I’ve ever attended.
And it inspired me, on the 25th anniversary, to ask a few people who’ve been doing this even longer than I have what the loudest noise they’ve ever heard from a boxing crowd was.
I reached out to eight members of the boxing media who’ve been voted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in the “Observer” category, asking them simply what’s the most deafening boxing moment or full fight they’ve ever subjected their eardrums to.
My friend and mentor Nigel Collins, former longtime editor-in-chief of The Ring magazine, noted several fighters over the years whose ring entrances in particular settings cranked up the decibels, from Arturo Gatti in Atlantic City, to Trinidad at MSG (“except for the Bernard Hopkins fight after 9/11,” Collins pointed out, “because they wouldn’t allow his fans to bring their drums”), to Manny Pacquiao in Vegas.
But for a singular moment, there’s one that stands out for Collins, action that so enthralled the crowd that the noise was suffocating even in an outdoor arena.
“The end of the [Marvin] Hagler-[Tommy] Hearns first round was totally unreal,” Collins recalled. “I’ve often written and said that it was like an atomic bomb exploding.”
I’ve heard Nigel tell the story a few times of the out-of-body experience he had at the Caesars Palace outdoor venue that night, where when the bell rang to end that extraordinary opening three minutes, he found himself standing on his chair in the press section – and had no recollection of climbing up there.
For another former Ring editor, Randy Gordon, Hagler-Hearns is near the top of his list as well – but not quite number one. Gordon ranks that 1985 three-round brawl third, and he places the 1980 Fight of the Year between Matthew Saad Muhammad and Yaqui Lopez at the Playboy Club in Atlantic City second.
But the loudest boxing experience of Gordon’s life was a fair bit less famous than either of those, and it was a fight that “The Commish” was working as a broadcaster for ESPN, alongside Sal Marchiano and Luis Henriquez.
“The arena’s capacity was around 8,000, but at least 4,000 more Panamanians pushed, squeezed, and crowded their way into the arena,” Gordon remembered. “December is summer in Panama, and the temperature during the day hit 95 degrees. The arena was old and had no air conditioning. With the crowd packed into every available square inch of space – even wedging themselves on their knees between Marchiano, Henriquez, and me – and with the hot ESPN TV lights increasing the heat, our thermometer at ringside showed a temperature of 110 degrees.”
Gordon says the entirety of the overpacked crowd was pro-Pedroza and screaming with every punch he threw.
“The crowd was so loud, Marchiano and I had to ask our ESPN director to turn our volume in our headsets to full blast, because we couldn’t hear each other speaking,” he said. “In the thousands of fights I have announced, I never had to make that request before or since. When Sibaca was KO’d in the fifth round, I was relieved to know I could take my headset off. I had ringing in my ears for a week following the fight.”
Another former editor-in-chief of The Ring, Steve Farhood, singled out a fight from his 20-year-plus tenure with Showtime when I asked him for the most deafening experience he could recall. It was a fight that, like Pedroza-Sibaca and Trinidad-Joppy, featured a decidedly partisan crowd.
“I associate the word ‘deafening’ with one particular fight: Ricky Hatton-Kostya Tszyu in 2005 at MEN Arena in Manchester, England,” Farhood said.
He noted that many of the biggest fights he’s attended in Las Vegas involved crowds with divided rooting interests, from Floyd Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao, to Larry Holmes-Gerry Cooney, to Ray Leonard’s first fight with Hearns, to both Evander Holyfield-Mike Tyson clashes.
“That was certainly not the case with Hatton-Tszyu,” Farhood said. “There were 22,000 fans in attendance that night in 2005, and my estimate is that 21,990 of them were pulling for the unbeaten and hugely popular Hatton.
“The roar when Tszyu surrendered by sticking to his stool before the start of the 12th round was Richter-worthy, but I best remember the response when Hatton made his ring-walk to ‘Blue Moon.’
“More than 20 years later, the chills remain.”
Hatton-Tszyu must have been an extraordinarily loud and boisterous affair, because Farhood’s longtime Showtime colleague Al Bernstein gave the same answer – although he differed somewhat from Farhood by placing that fight in Manchester in a tie with one other bout:
“I was there covering for SportsCenter the George Foreman-Michael Moorer fight,” Bernstein said. “And, I have never heard anything like the sound in the MGM Grand when Foreman knocked out Moorer. It was absolutely deafening. I could not believe how loud that arena became in that moment.”
Regarding the Hatton-Tszyu fight, Bernstein described the crowd as “astonishingly loud. And it was continuously loud. And of course the moment Hatton won was an amazing eruption. And I’m not typically a believer in atmospheres elevating a performance, but I honestly felt that crowd elevated Ricky Hatton that night.”
Like Bernstein, former HBO and Showtime (among other networks) blow-by-blow man Barry Tompkins had to call this a tie, naming two fights that cranked up the volume in different ways.
Both are iconic HBO fights from the ‘80s – one among the decade’s best fights, the other among the decade’s biggest events, and the crowd noise Tompkins cites reflects those designations.
The first of those is Aaron Pryor’s 14th-round stoppage of Alexis Arguello in 1982 at the Orange Bowl in Miami, which Tompkins said he “still hears in my ears.”
“The crowd was so loud that we talked on the air about the real chance of them not hearing the bell to end the round,” he said. “From the fighter introductions to the end of the fight in the 14th round, there was not an instant that the crowd didn't override any sound in my ear. Including my producer, who literally had to scream before I could figure out what he was telling me. Surreal!”
The other fight Tompkins singled out came five years later, when Leonard challenged Hagler at the same Caesars Palace outdoor arena where Hagler faced Hearns.
That extreme decibel level “was born more of anticipation than anything else,” Tompkins said. “And, while the fight was loud and the crowd really into it, the moment for me was when the crowd first caught a glimpse of the fighters as they waited to start their ring walks. It began with a murmur and rose like a tidal wave until both were in the ring, and it wasn't just your ears that heard it, it was your entire body. It was palpable. Anticipation turning to reality, and even as a professional without a rooting interest, you simply could not help but be caught up in it.”
Graham Houston has seen a lot since he first started covering boxing 63 years ago, and for the journalist who was born in England but eventually moved to North America, it was a fight in Vegas featuring a beloved Brit that most reverberates in his aural memories.
“The one that stands out the most in terms of an absolute wall of sound,” Houston said, citing a term commonly associated with music producer Phil Spector, “was the rematch between Mike Tyson and Frank Bruno. The noise was like thunder when Tyson bludgeoned Bruno in the third round.”
Houston also recalled the first fight card he attended in Las Vegas, 14 years before Tyson-Bruno II, in 1981, when the showdown between Mexico’s Salvador Sanchez and Puerto Rico’s Wilfredo Gomez was accompanied by a salsa band dueling with a mariachi band at Caesars Palace.
“Mariachi trumped salsa for decibel-level,” Houston noted. “I remember the reporter sitting next to me saying something like, ‘First round to Sanchez and Mexico – mariachi way too much for salsa.’”
Like Houston, for Las Vegas-based writer Kevin Iole – a member of the soon-to-be-inducted IBHOF class of 2026 – most of the fights that flood his thoughts took place in Sin City. One exception was the third Israel Vazquez-Rafael Marquez fight in Carson, California, but others on his short list included Holyfield knocking Tyson down in their first fight and Pacquiao flattening Hatton with a second-round left hand.
But Iole ultimately landed on the shocking conclusion to the fourth fight between Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Marquez, in 2012.
“The crowd was primed going in because of how good their first three bouts had been,” Iole said, “and then the fourth fight was more than living up to its billing. Manny’s fan base was loud and passionate, and he was in the midst of a rally that had his fans roaring at the top of their voices. All of a sudden, Marquez landed that vicious counter and Manny was out instantly.
“The shock of that moment and the deliriousness of the Marquez’ fans made it a truly sensational moment to experience. It was not only loud, but it rolled on for quite a while.”
Jim Lampley called that fight for HBO Pay-Per-View, and the knockout is his pick as well for the loudest crowd reaction he’s ever heard in a boxing arena. But his recollection of the sound is a bit different than Iole’s, as is his application of the word “deafening.”
“For me, what stands apart is the deafening silence in the moments after Marquez’s lightning counter shot that put Pacquiao to sleep,” Lampley said. “Shocked silence. And I had to get my bearings.
“As – eventually – did Manny.”
Eric Raskin is a veteran boxing journalist with nearly 30 years of experience covering the sport for such outlets as BoxingScene, ESPN, Grantland, Playboy, 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, BlueSky, or LinkedIn, or via email at RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com.