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Toney puts Grand Rapids in his corner
Sunday, March 05, 2006
By David Mayo
The Grand Rapids Press
GRAND RAPIDS -- A Grand Rapids-born boxer with world championships in three weight divisions pursues a fourth this month, although his name is not Mayweather.
He soon could become the most prominent locally born heavyweight in the city's rich boxing history, although his name is neither Tucker nor Mathis.
James Toney will be a first-ballot Boxing Hall of Fame inductee sometime next decade. He has reached that rare prominence by losing just four times in 76 professional fights against a fistic Who's Who ranging from Roy Jones Jr. to Evander Holyfield.
He is a staple on HBO, which will televise his March 18 fight against Hasim Rahman in Atlantic City, N.J., for the World Boxing Council heavyweight title.
He also is regarded as one of the most intriguing characters in boxing, a media favorite because of his acidic wit and self-aggrandizement, and a fan favorite because he backs up the talk with incredible skills and a willingness to fight the best.
For sheer ability inside the velvet-covered ropes, Toney arguably is matched by only one other active fighter, the Grand Rapids-born phenomenon Floyd Mayweather, who is regarded universally as the finest pound-for-pound boxer in the world.
Well, almost universally.
"Floyd is a great boxer," Toney said, "but I'm the master boxer. I'm the greatest inside, stay-in-the-pocket fighter there is."
That the self-proclaimed master was born and lived here until age 10 was a mystery to many local boxing figures.
Tony Tucker, who in 1987 became the city's only native to win a piece of the heavyweight championship, didn't know it.
Buster Mathis Jr., a highly ranked contender in the 1990s and son of former heavyweight title challenger Buster Mathis Sr., didn't know it.
"I didn't know Toney ever stayed in Grand Rapids in any shape, form or fashion," said Floyd Mayweather Sr., one of boxing's most prominent trainers. "I'm not sure anybody knew it."
The younger Floyd Mayweather did. So did his trainer and uncle, Roger Mayweather, brother of Floyd Sr.
But until a few months ago, when Toney made one of his multitudinous appearances on Fox Sports' "Best Damn Sports Show Period," he was perceived exclusively as an Ann Arbor fighter. Even those who knew Toney was born here considered his birthplace little more than a personal launching pad.
Toney set that straight when one of the show's hosts called Ann Arbor his hometown.
"Ann Arbor isn't my hometown," he said. "Grand Rapids is my hometown. I went to school in Ann Arbor but Grand Rapids is my hometown."
So how could a 37-year-old veteran of 18 years in pro boxing, and almost 15 years removed from his first world championship victory, have flown so long beneath his hometown radar?
"Because y'all (media) never look for me and I never look for y'all," said Toney, who said he visits family members here a few times each year.
Actually, he only lived here until age 10, at the same residence, 828 Cass Ave. SE, where his grandmother, Annie Harbin, still lives.
Toney never has set foot in a Grand Rapids boxing gym and his life in the sport did not begin until he was almost 12, at Ann Arbor-Ypsilanti Boxing Club.
Regardless, a fascinating history in an extraordinary life began here, after James Toney Sr. abandoned his wife Sherry and their infant in the late 1960s, fueling a long, deep rage within his son.
Sherry Toney left her son with her mother while she attended the University of Michigan. She earned an education degree, and later a master's from Eastern Michigan University, then moved her son to live with her in Ann Arbor, where she started a wholesale bakery business.
Toney found his way to a boxing gym less than two years later, although most of his athletic youth centered on football. He was a star quarterback at Huron High School, good enough to draw Division I scholarship offers, although he also admits moonlighting as a pistol-packing drug peddler during that time.
His first boxing manager, Johnny "Ace" Smith, was an alleged Detroit drug lord who was gunned down less than a year after Toney turned pro in 1988.
Toney's second manager, Jackie Kallen, was an entertainment columnist who had done some boxing publicity work, yet was a novice manager facing enormous gender barriers. But Toney fought often, kept winning, and scored a come-from-behind knockout against Michael Nunn to claim the middleweight title in 1991.
Kallen became a star in her own right. The movie "Against the Ropes," starring Meg Ryan as Kallen and Omar Epps as a character loosely based on Toney, was released to tepid reviews in 2004.
Toney and Kallen split acrimoniously a decade ago.
"I made her," Toney said. "She hasn't done anything since me."
Toney also went 2-0-1 against Hall of Famer Mike McCallum in the 1990s, with the draw so controversial that Sports Illustrated's Pat Putnam, after 12 rounds of Toney's thudding rights, wrote that McCallum only survived because, "he has one of the five great chins in the world; the other four are on Mt. Rushmore."
Toney's first loss, to Jones in 1994, dogged him for years. He atoned with many big-fight victories, but his signature failures trace almost universally to that moment.
All of the losses on Toney's 69-4-2 record were compacted into a 14-fight span of less than three years beginning with the Jones loss. By the late-1990s, he was bogged in a messy divorce and involved in a financial dispute which led him to sue his mother. After averaging eight fights a year in his first eight years, he sat idle almost two years.
Toney said the specter of Jones also spurred his 1999 comeback, although the rematch never happened.
"I lost focus on what I had to do during those years. But I came back because you guys kept making Roy Jones out to be the greatest fighter in history," Toney said, again referring to the media. "I had beaten Mike McCallum, Iran Barkley, Reggie Johnson, Michael Nunn, all these tough guys. And all you guys could talk about was Roy Jones.
"He was about to announce his retirement, so I wanted to come back and knock his ass out at some sort of catch weight before he hung them up. He wouldn't do it, you people wouldn't even take me seriously. Yeah, I was heavier. But I'd fight better at 30% bodyfat than having to lose 30% bodyweight to fight, you know what I'm saying?
"If Roy Jones was some great fighter, he would of knocked me out when we fought. I was there for the taking. He didn't even knock me out."
During roughly the same period, Toney, who for years lobbed verbal threats through the media at the father who abandoned him, finally found James Toney Sr. -- in an Ohio prison, where he is serving time for sexual assault.
The two have spoken several times by telephone, most recently about a year ago. They have not met, although their conversations led Toney to establish relationships with a new family of siblings, including four half-brothers also named James.
"That tripped me out. It was like being George Foreman's kid," Toney said, referring to the former heavyweight champion with five sons named George.
To become heavyweight champion himself, Toney must contend with Rahman's undeniable power. The legendary heavyweight Lennox Lewis, who retired as champion in 2003 after two losses in 44 fights, lost to Rahman on a one-punch knockout in 2001.
The fight got jump-started last December, when Rahman slapped Toney during an awards ceremony in Mexico.
"He thinks he got something on me," said Toney, who incurred a small facial scratch. "He'll pay for that. I'm going to have an easy time with Hasim Rahman. It's like me fighting an amateur."
Toney lives in Calabasas, Calif., hates it, but loves his Hollywood-based trainer Freddie Roach. So Toney stays, pursuing a goal he promised back when he reigned as 160- and 168-pound champion.
"I always said I would be heavyweight champ one day," he said. "Determination does things to you. Determination will make you eat your kids."
Stanley Ketchel won the middleweight championship 99 years ago and became a ring legend. Floyd Mayweather is doing the same at a variety of weights a century later. Roger Mayweather and Tucker won title claims in between.
Yet while a few hardcore boxing insiders knew Toney as the fifth Grand Rapids-born world champion, even they were unaware until now that it mattered to him at all.
"I love Grand Rapids," Toney said. "I love Ann Arbor, and I love Detroit, too. I love my Michigan heritage. I will never deny my roots."
Toney puts Grand Rapids in his corner
Sunday, March 05, 2006
By David Mayo
The Grand Rapids Press
GRAND RAPIDS -- A Grand Rapids-born boxer with world championships in three weight divisions pursues a fourth this month, although his name is not Mayweather.
He soon could become the most prominent locally born heavyweight in the city's rich boxing history, although his name is neither Tucker nor Mathis.
James Toney will be a first-ballot Boxing Hall of Fame inductee sometime next decade. He has reached that rare prominence by losing just four times in 76 professional fights against a fistic Who's Who ranging from Roy Jones Jr. to Evander Holyfield.
He is a staple on HBO, which will televise his March 18 fight against Hasim Rahman in Atlantic City, N.J., for the World Boxing Council heavyweight title.
He also is regarded as one of the most intriguing characters in boxing, a media favorite because of his acidic wit and self-aggrandizement, and a fan favorite because he backs up the talk with incredible skills and a willingness to fight the best.
For sheer ability inside the velvet-covered ropes, Toney arguably is matched by only one other active fighter, the Grand Rapids-born phenomenon Floyd Mayweather, who is regarded universally as the finest pound-for-pound boxer in the world.
Well, almost universally.
"Floyd is a great boxer," Toney said, "but I'm the master boxer. I'm the greatest inside, stay-in-the-pocket fighter there is."
That the self-proclaimed master was born and lived here until age 10 was a mystery to many local boxing figures.
Tony Tucker, who in 1987 became the city's only native to win a piece of the heavyweight championship, didn't know it.
Buster Mathis Jr., a highly ranked contender in the 1990s and son of former heavyweight title challenger Buster Mathis Sr., didn't know it.
"I didn't know Toney ever stayed in Grand Rapids in any shape, form or fashion," said Floyd Mayweather Sr., one of boxing's most prominent trainers. "I'm not sure anybody knew it."
The younger Floyd Mayweather did. So did his trainer and uncle, Roger Mayweather, brother of Floyd Sr.
But until a few months ago, when Toney made one of his multitudinous appearances on Fox Sports' "Best Damn Sports Show Period," he was perceived exclusively as an Ann Arbor fighter. Even those who knew Toney was born here considered his birthplace little more than a personal launching pad.
Toney set that straight when one of the show's hosts called Ann Arbor his hometown.
"Ann Arbor isn't my hometown," he said. "Grand Rapids is my hometown. I went to school in Ann Arbor but Grand Rapids is my hometown."
So how could a 37-year-old veteran of 18 years in pro boxing, and almost 15 years removed from his first world championship victory, have flown so long beneath his hometown radar?
"Because y'all (media) never look for me and I never look for y'all," said Toney, who said he visits family members here a few times each year.
Actually, he only lived here until age 10, at the same residence, 828 Cass Ave. SE, where his grandmother, Annie Harbin, still lives.
Toney never has set foot in a Grand Rapids boxing gym and his life in the sport did not begin until he was almost 12, at Ann Arbor-Ypsilanti Boxing Club.
Regardless, a fascinating history in an extraordinary life began here, after James Toney Sr. abandoned his wife Sherry and their infant in the late 1960s, fueling a long, deep rage within his son.
Sherry Toney left her son with her mother while she attended the University of Michigan. She earned an education degree, and later a master's from Eastern Michigan University, then moved her son to live with her in Ann Arbor, where she started a wholesale bakery business.
Toney found his way to a boxing gym less than two years later, although most of his athletic youth centered on football. He was a star quarterback at Huron High School, good enough to draw Division I scholarship offers, although he also admits moonlighting as a pistol-packing drug peddler during that time.
His first boxing manager, Johnny "Ace" Smith, was an alleged Detroit drug lord who was gunned down less than a year after Toney turned pro in 1988.
Toney's second manager, Jackie Kallen, was an entertainment columnist who had done some boxing publicity work, yet was a novice manager facing enormous gender barriers. But Toney fought often, kept winning, and scored a come-from-behind knockout against Michael Nunn to claim the middleweight title in 1991.
Kallen became a star in her own right. The movie "Against the Ropes," starring Meg Ryan as Kallen and Omar Epps as a character loosely based on Toney, was released to tepid reviews in 2004.
Toney and Kallen split acrimoniously a decade ago.
"I made her," Toney said. "She hasn't done anything since me."
Toney also went 2-0-1 against Hall of Famer Mike McCallum in the 1990s, with the draw so controversial that Sports Illustrated's Pat Putnam, after 12 rounds of Toney's thudding rights, wrote that McCallum only survived because, "he has one of the five great chins in the world; the other four are on Mt. Rushmore."
Toney's first loss, to Jones in 1994, dogged him for years. He atoned with many big-fight victories, but his signature failures trace almost universally to that moment.
All of the losses on Toney's 69-4-2 record were compacted into a 14-fight span of less than three years beginning with the Jones loss. By the late-1990s, he was bogged in a messy divorce and involved in a financial dispute which led him to sue his mother. After averaging eight fights a year in his first eight years, he sat idle almost two years.
Toney said the specter of Jones also spurred his 1999 comeback, although the rematch never happened.
"I lost focus on what I had to do during those years. But I came back because you guys kept making Roy Jones out to be the greatest fighter in history," Toney said, again referring to the media. "I had beaten Mike McCallum, Iran Barkley, Reggie Johnson, Michael Nunn, all these tough guys. And all you guys could talk about was Roy Jones.
"He was about to announce his retirement, so I wanted to come back and knock his ass out at some sort of catch weight before he hung them up. He wouldn't do it, you people wouldn't even take me seriously. Yeah, I was heavier. But I'd fight better at 30% bodyfat than having to lose 30% bodyweight to fight, you know what I'm saying?
"If Roy Jones was some great fighter, he would of knocked me out when we fought. I was there for the taking. He didn't even knock me out."
During roughly the same period, Toney, who for years lobbed verbal threats through the media at the father who abandoned him, finally found James Toney Sr. -- in an Ohio prison, where he is serving time for sexual assault.
The two have spoken several times by telephone, most recently about a year ago. They have not met, although their conversations led Toney to establish relationships with a new family of siblings, including four half-brothers also named James.
"That tripped me out. It was like being George Foreman's kid," Toney said, referring to the former heavyweight champion with five sons named George.
To become heavyweight champion himself, Toney must contend with Rahman's undeniable power. The legendary heavyweight Lennox Lewis, who retired as champion in 2003 after two losses in 44 fights, lost to Rahman on a one-punch knockout in 2001.
The fight got jump-started last December, when Rahman slapped Toney during an awards ceremony in Mexico.
"He thinks he got something on me," said Toney, who incurred a small facial scratch. "He'll pay for that. I'm going to have an easy time with Hasim Rahman. It's like me fighting an amateur."
Toney lives in Calabasas, Calif., hates it, but loves his Hollywood-based trainer Freddie Roach. So Toney stays, pursuing a goal he promised back when he reigned as 160- and 168-pound champion.
"I always said I would be heavyweight champ one day," he said. "Determination does things to you. Determination will make you eat your kids."
Stanley Ketchel won the middleweight championship 99 years ago and became a ring legend. Floyd Mayweather is doing the same at a variety of weights a century later. Roger Mayweather and Tucker won title claims in between.
Yet while a few hardcore boxing insiders knew Toney as the fifth Grand Rapids-born world champion, even they were unaware until now that it mattered to him at all.
"I love Grand Rapids," Toney said. "I love Ann Arbor, and I love Detroit, too. I love my Michigan heritage. I will never deny my roots."
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