The Corrupt History of the IBF

BOXING; A Sport's Credibility Takes Another Hit By TIMOTHY W. SMITHJUNE 20, 1999 In 1983, Robert W. Lee Sr. quietly formed the International Boxing Federation. If the announcement lacked both drama and publicity, Lee did not lack for ambition: the I.B.F., he pledged, would be built from scratch with the idea that it would objectively rank the world's top fighters and create its own set of legitimate championship titles. As the leader of a new boxing organization, one that claimed it wanted to clean up a sport rife with wrongdoing, Lee was a curious candidate to play the part of maverick reformer. Lee, after all, had never been a serious boxer or trainer or promoter, having spent most of his professional life as a homicide detective in Hudson County, N.J. More odd, however, Lee, at the very moment he was creating the I.B.F., was deputy commissioner of the New Jersey Athletic Commission, a governmental agency charged with monitoring boxing in the state. And Federal agents investigating corruption in boxing in the early 1980's had said they had evidence that Lee accepted illegal payoffs in his job with the state commission. In the end, none of it -- a lack of experience, a possible conflict of interest, a brush with the F.B.I. -- mattered. Lee indeed founded the I.B.F. (originally calling it the United States Boxing Association International), and within months staged its first championship fight. And for the last 16 years, the I.B.F., along with the World Boxing Council and the World Boxing Association, has functioned as one of the sport's three sanctioning organizations, and thus as one of its most powerful forces. The I.B.F. has anointed champions, but it has also been sued by fighters who have claimed, among other things, that its ranking system was fixed. It has made millions of dollars, but has also been at the center of some of the sport's great embarrassments -- most recently when the performance of a judge it appointed in the Evander Holyfield-Lennox Lewis fight March 13 set off a New York City criminal investigation into whether the bout was rigged. Continue reading the main story Now, Lee and the I.B.F., and with them another layer of boxing's credibility, seem to be in additional peril. Federal prosecutors in Newark, in a broad grand jury investigation that predates the Holyfield-Lewis debacle, have been submitting evidence of possible criminal conduct by the I.B.F, which is based in East Orange, N.J. The grand jury is looking into whether the I.B.F. accepted payoffs in return for ranking certain fighters. Over the last year, the organization's financial records have been seized; promoters, managers and boxers have been questioned about a variety of improper schemes, and the promoter Don King, who has worked closely with the I.B.F. over the years, has said he believes prosecutors have targeted Lee and the I.B.F. in an attempt to ultimately indict him. Lee has denied any wrongdoing, saying he believes he is being investigated because prosecutors have failed in their attempts to go after the W.B.C. and the W.B.A., which are based in Mexico and Venezuela, respectively. ''I'm an easy target because I'm in the United States,'' Lee said a few weeks ago. ''I'm here, and I'm accessible.'' King, whose business offices in Florida were raided by Federal agents this month, said before the raid that he expected to be indicted, but also predicted that he would be exonerated. According to people who have testified before the grand jury, prosecutors have focused on him because they are interested in seeing whether he might have used his influence over Lee to turn the I.B.F. and its titles into his own fiefdom. ''I know they're trying to get Bob Lee,'' King said, ''but it always ends up with me. I've been indicted all my life. But I'm not going to deal with smokescreens and hypotheticals, and I'm not going to give up my most basic right -- the presumption of innocence.'' Boxing's sanctioning organizations have long drawn criticism. The W.B.C. and the W.B.A. operated as fringe groups in the sport until the early 1960's, publishing rankings of fighters and designating their own sets of champions, but being all but ignored by the most powerful promoters and fighters. That changed in the late 1970's when television networks, reacting to repeated scandals in boxing, turned to the two organizations in an attempt to create a credible mechanism for ranking fighters and staging legitimate championship fights. But despite having been enlisted to help the networks and the sport, the newly powerful organizations were soon criticized for their own alleged misdeeds -- manipulating their rankings, extracting enormous sums of money from fighters, establishing alliances with promoters that called into question the integrity of both fights and champions. In fact, when the Committee on Governmental Affairs conducted the most recent United States Senate investigation of boxing in 1992, it did not look into the sanctioning organizations and their ranking systems, so convinced was it of their illegitimacy. ''It was so universally accepted that they're arbitrary and subject to manipulation that we didn't think it would serve any purpose to spend six months looking into them,'' said Paul Feeney, a legislative aide to Senator John McCain, Republican of Arizona. Exacting Their Due How the 'Reformers' Got Cozy Quickly As it happened, it was a scandal involving how boxers were ranked that lifted the sanctioning organizations to positions of real influence. In 1977, during a boxing tournament televised by ABC Sports, it was revealed that the rankings of the boxers involved, then set by The Ring magazine's experts, were flawed, and that the records of some boxers were bogus. Embarrassed, ABC turned to the W.B.A. and the W.B.C., which had been formed decades before. The organizations took over the ranking of the top boxers, deciding who would fight whom and when. The organizations, which made occasional nods toward the interests of fighters -- establishing safety regulations such as shortening the lengths of championship fights -- became the beneficiary of television's effort to, in effect, purchase credibility. Executives from ABC and other networks paid the organizations for the right to broadcast a sanctioned fight, and fighters gave up a piece of their purse for the privilege of having a shot at a sanctioning organization's title. And quickly, a dynamic of widespread coziness took hold. The interests at work in this dynamic were easy to see. One one hand, television executives eager to offer the viewing public a reliable product came to depend on at least the surface seriousness of, say, a W.B.C.-sanctioned championship, one to be fought for by boxers whose rankings said they were deserving. On the other hand, the promoters ingratiated themselves with the sanctioning bodies, recognizing that title fights meant more money. And the sanctioning bodies set fees for their championships, often taking as much as 3 percent of each fighter's purse. It did not take long, then, for people in boxing to conclude that in using the sanctioning bodies to name champions, set rankings and strip fighters of their titles if they did not box designated opponents, one scandal had simply replaced another. In 1983, Bob Arum, a longtime promoter, charged in a magazine article that a W.B.A. official, Pepe Cordero, had extorted $500,000 from him in order for Arum's fighter, Ray Mancini, to gain a championship fight. Arum repeated the charge in a recent interview. Cordero, who was never charged or disciplined as a result of the allegation, died years ago. Others, though, made similar allegations. In the end, the F.B.I.'s early-1980's study did not result in the prosecution of major fight figures, but investigators nevertheless formed some conclusions about the sanctioning organizations. ''They collect percentages of a fighter's purse in sanctioning fees every time he fights,'' Joseph Spinelli, a former agent who led the investigation, said. ''No one knows where it goes or who it goes to. They're not accountable to anyone.'' Many promoters are quite frank about their efforts to get close to the sanctioning organizations. It has been a ritual for years, for example, for promoters to underwrite the costs of the organizations' annual conventions. ''It's like everything else,'' said the promoter Butch Lewis, whose records on his dealings with the I.B.F. have been subpoenaed by the F.B.I. in the current investigation. ''You go to the conventions, put on a ****tail party, you make donations to the conventions. That's what you do to stay in business.'' Michael Marley, a former publicist for King who now manages a number of boxers, agreed that the relationships between promoters and sanctioning organizations could look suspect. ''There were always hints being dropped,'' Marley said of rankings being put up for sale. ''If you're a discerning manager you see them. I can't give you any evidence. I don't have any receipts. I don't think guys are bringing bags of cash and handing them out to these organizations. But they do things like buy wedding presents for people.'' Up From Homicide Group's Head Leaves Trail of Accusations Boxing has always attracted eclectic characters -- from the heroic to the criminal, the comic to the sad. Thus the story of Bob Lee and his rise within boxing is not entirely difficult to fathom. Lee, who at 67 is among the most powerful people in the game as the head of the I.B.F., was not much of a boxer as a youth, a broken finger cutting short his career after four fights. He served as a detective with the Hudson County Police Department, later lost an election for Sheriff in Union County, and then took up a bureaucrat's job in the New Jersey consumer affairs office. In 1978, though, Lee was assigned to assist Althea Gibson, the former tennis great, in her job as the state's athletic commissioner. Part of his job was helping attract boxing events to Atlantic City. Almost from the start, questions were raised about Lee's conduct. In 1980, the F.B.I., then conducting its initial investigation into boxing, said an undercover agent had made an audiotape that recorded Lee's acceptance of a bribe as payment for granting a promoter's license. Though the investigation did not result in indictments, the agents gave information on Lee to the New Jersey authorities. Lee has always maintained that the bribery claim is unfounded. State officials did not take action against Lee on the bribery accusation, but four years later they did force his removal from office. Lee, it turned out, had worked for the W.B.A., and later formed the I.B.F., while he continued to work at his state job overseeing boxing. In 1984, after an investigation by the state Attorney General's office, Lee was forced by the New Jersey Investigation Commission to give up his state job because of what were termed ethical misjudgments. Among the findings was that Lee had solicited funds for the I.B.F. from the very boxing people he was regulating. ''I think he saw his role as more boosterism than regulator,'' said James Morley, who headed the state investigation. ''Most of those guys thought they were there to find ways to get more boxing in New Jersey, not to regulate it.'' Scott Woodworth, the manager of Roberto Garcia, the I.B.F.'s junior lightweight champion, said Lee's unusual route to becoming the head of a sanctioning organization was a damning commentary on the sport. ''You know there's something wrong with these organizations when Bob Lee can go from being fired as a state commissioner to being president of a sanctioning organization,'' Woodward said. ''But this is the business of boxing.'' At least one boxing manager, Ron Weathers, said he had told the grand jury in Newark that part of that business involved direct payoffs to the I.B.F. Weathers said in a recent interview that he had told prosecutors of ''several occasions'' on which he had made improper payments in order to get his fighters ranked. ''For years,'' Weathers said of the I.B.F. and the other sanctioning bodies, ''you could only do business with these organizations if you paid them.'' One fighter, William Guthrie, gave a sworn statement two years ago claiming that the I.B.F.'s tactics could involve tools other than money. Guthrie, a former I.B.F. lightweight champion, sued King, alleging that in using his influence with Lee, King had told Lee not to grant Guthrie a title fight if Guthrie decided to sign with a different promoter. Guthrie said Lee had then in fact told him that. ''I had no doubt what they were saying was true,'' Guthrie said in an interview on Friday. Lee said he has been singled out for criticism and punishment because he is black. ''My two predecessors, Abe Greene and Joe Maloney, who were both white, they had done the same thing I did,'' Lee said. ''I copied what they did. Yet they never found them to be in ethical violations.'' After the state Attorney General's investigation, Lee continued to be haunted by his past. In 1992, he was called before the Senate committee and was asked to answer questions about the F.B.I.'s claim that he had taken a bribe in 1980. Lee repeatedly invoked his Fifth Amendment privilege and declined to answer questions. ''If you look at the stuff they were talking about,'' Lee said recently, ''nothing ever happened.'' Much, though, was happening with the I.B.F. Marvin Hagler fought in its first championship event in 1983. Larry Holmes soon became one of its champions. Its conventions attracted all the major promoters. Lee's son, Robert W. Lee Jr., became a senior officer. The organization's coffers filled with cash, as it took a greater percentage of a fighter's purse than any other sanctioning body. ''The number of fighters who have come through here and have been world champions, I'm happy about that,'' Lee said as he sat in the I.B.F.'s offices. ''If you think about it, we've put a lot of money in the pockets of these guys.'' The I.B.F. has only five full-time employees, and its finances are not subject to any kind of independent oversight. According to people who have testified before the grand jury in Newark, prosecutors are looking into the question of whether improper payments to I.B.F. officials were made through the overcharging of sanctioning fees. Suspicions about how the I.B.F. has conducted its business have certainly been widespread for years. Arum, the promoter who claimed he was required to pay off a W.B.A. official for a prize fight more than a decade ago, said that his early optimism about the I.B.F. quickly dissipated, and that he has given testimony before the Newark grand jury. ''These were American guys who weren't going to be corrupt,'' Arum said he once thought. But, he said, ''I began hearing rumors as early as the end of the 1980's that guys were paying for ratings.'' The Circle Tightens Grand Jury Hears From Every Side The current Federal investigation of the I.B.F., according to law enforcement officials, grew directly out of a lawsuit brought against the organization by Michael Moorer, a former heavyweight champion. In his 1994 suit, Moorer argued that he had been wrongly denied the I.B.F.'s No. 1 ranking, and had instead been leapfrogged by two less-deserving boxers, including Francois Botha, a King fighter who moved from No. 4 to No. 1. Moorer said he had been told by Lee that he was not fighting frequently enough to merit the top slot. In making his case, Moorer and his lawyers obtained the testimony of managers and television executives. The promoter Dan Duva, then president of Main Events, said in an affidavit that the I.B.F. official in charge of rankings, Doug Beavers, had told him that Lee ordered that Botha be ''unilaterally'' moved to No. 1. But perhaps the most provocative testimony came from Seth Abraham, president of Time Warner-HBO Sports. He said in a sworn statement that King had outlined for him how he would have Botha moved ahead of Moorer. ''And that is indeed what happened,'' Abraham said in a recent interview. ''There is no secret Don knows how to use the organizations better than anyone I know. But quite frankly all the promoters do what the organizations allow them to do.'' The lawsuit was ultimately settled, and, according to John Davimos, Moorer's manager, the fighter received $3 million and a promise that he could fight for the I.B.F. title in the future. He fought for the title in 1996. But according to lawyers involved in the suit, as well as a number of people who have testified before the grand jury, prosecutors were intrigued enough by the allegations in the case to start their own investigation. A number of promoters, including Butch Lewis and Cedric Kushner, have either testified before the grand jury or turned over many of the financial records of their dealings with the I.B.F. King and others have said that they believe the Government's case has been helped by the work of Beavers, the former I.B.F. rankings official, who they say worked as an informant for prosecutors over the last year or more. Beavers, who has since left the I.B.F., did not return repeated telephone calls seeking a response. George Foreman, who once held the I.B.F.'s heavyweight title, also testified before the grand jury. He said he was questioned extensively about knowledge of kickbacks for rankings. Foreman said he told prosecutors he had no direct knowledge of such payoffs, but that he believed such schemes existed. But he blamed the promoters as well as the sanctioning organization officials. ''Have you ever heard the old expression, 'Can two walk together unless they agree?' '' Foreman said. ''I believe that's the way it works.'' https://www.nytimes.com/1999/06/20/sports/boxing-a-sport-s-credibility-takes-another-hit.html