STEVE SMOGER'S TOP TEN KOS FOR FIGHTS HE REFEREED

STEVE SMOGER'S TOP TEN KOS FOR FIGHTS HE REFEREED

By Steve Smoger as told to Doveed Linder

Referee Steve Smoger discusses the significance of knockouts in the sport of boxing and lists the top 10 knockouts that have occurred while he was the third man in the ring.
STEVE SMOGER: In boxing, everybody loves a knockout.  Knockouts give the crowd a true sense of finality.  It’s the ultimate punctuation of victory and it’s a way for a fight to come to a definitive conclusion.  In my view, what makes for a “great” knockout is not when a fighter comes out and overwhelms his opponent.  It’s when two fighters give everything they have in a competitive affair.  Over the past thirty years, I have been fortunate enough to have been the third man in the ring for some of the most exciting moments in boxing.  Looking back at these moments, I have selected ten fights and created a list of which I feel are the top ten knockouts of my career.  When I say “knockout”, this means a fighter could have been down for the ten-count, I waved it off, the corner threw in the towel, or a fighter elected to not continue.  What puts these fights in the top ten are not necessarily the knockout itself (although some of these knockouts were very dramatic), but everything that was at stake for the two combatants and the action that took place leading up to the moment of truth. 

10. Gabriel Rosado TKO10 Charles Whitaker, September 21, 2012: Rosado-Whitaker was an IBF junior middleweight eliminator and it was my third fight in a recent “trilogy” I had with Gabriel Rosado.  All three fights were knockouts and any one of them could have been on this list.  I chose Rosado-Whitaker because of how I previously illustrated what I consider to be a “great” knockout.  This was an instance of both fighters giving everything they had.  Not to take anything away from the efforts of Jesus Soto-Karass and Sechew Powell who had previously faced Gabriel Rosado, but in my view, Charles Whitaker was on a true mission.  There were moments in the fight when Whitaker went down and it looked as if he might have been finished.  But as soon as he made it to his feet, it was like “Custer’s Last Stand”.  He was firing back and he even buzzed Gabe at one point.  It was a tremendous effort from both fighters, but Gabe was just too much for him.  In tenth round, it was clear that Whitaker was a beaten fighter.  He no longer had a realistic opportunity to win, so I waved it off. video:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOZ45NyZq00

9. Reggie Johnson KO5 William Guthrie, February 6, 1998:
Johnson-Guthrie was a toe to toe war for the IBF light heavyweight championship.  Guthrie was the champion, as he had just stopped Darrin Allen for the vacant title.  Johnson was a former champion, who had previously had competitive fights with James Toney, John David Jackson, and Jorge Castro.  Up until the moment of the knockout, this fight could have gone either way.  But in the fifth round, Johnson caught Guthrie with a clean punch and Guthrie was out before he hit the canvas.  At the time, there was a great deal of concern for Guthrie’s safety.  The doctors came into the ring and he was carried out on a stretcher.  Fortunately, he was okay and he went on to have a long career. video:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0vq3ayrXtI

8. Bernard Hopkins TKO12 Felix Trinidad, September 29, 2001: Historically speaking, Hopkins-Trinidad is the most significant fight I’ve ever been involved with.  It was at Madison Square Garden and it was the first major boxing event after the devastation of 9/11.  Aside from trauma that everyone was feeling, this was the climactic moment of Don King’s middleweight tournament, which also included William Joppy and Keith Holmes.  Hopkins and Trinidad were unifying the middleweight titles and there was a lot of electricity in the building that night.  Trinidad had just destroyed Joppy in May of that year and a lot of people thought he would do the same thing to Bernard.  The early rounds were fairly close, but as the fight progressed, I could see Bernard slowly taking over.  By the ninth and tenth rounds, he was completely dominating the fight.  Trinidad went down in the twelfth round and his father elected to stop it.  Lesser men would have fallen much sooner.  The fact that the fight went as long as it did is a testament to the heart and determination of Tito Trinidad.  As for Hopkins, at age thirty-six, he had finally made a case for himself as one of the best of his era by defeating another great fighter.  video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=7t1Rq-nnIYg

7. Kelly Pavlik TKO7 Edison Miranda, May 19, 2007: Pavlik-Miranda was a WBC eliminator, with the winner to get an opportunity to challenge Jermain Taylor for the true world middleweight championship.  Both Kelly and Edison had a lot of knockouts on their resumes, so it was very unlikely that this fight would go the distance.  Before the fight, Edison was completely overlooking Kelly.  In fact, at the pre-fight press conference, he had to be separated from Taylor, who was fighting Cory Spinks in the main event.  He was calling out the champion before he faced Kelly!  In the fourth round, Kelly absorbed some hard right hands and kept coming forward.  It was at that moment when I really started to sense that this was Pavlik’s time.  Sometimes a fighter reaches a point in their career where they find a certain zone.  They are of supreme confidence and they are destroying everything in their path.  This was Kelly’s zone.  In the sixth round, he hurt Miranda and had him just about out of there.  I called the doctor in and he allowed Edison to continue.  In the seventh round, Kelly jumped on him and that’s all she wrote. video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=xb5SVDQ-Qxc

6. Javier Castillejo KO6 Mariana Natalio Carrera, November 13, 2007: Castillejo-Carrera was a WBA middleweight eliminator.  It was also a rematch.  Their fist fight resulted in a no contest.  Castillejo had a little more notoriety than Carrera, as he had previously gone the distance with Oscar De La Hoya and Fernando Vargas.  He also knocked out Felix Sturm for Sturm’s middleweight title, but then lost the title back to Sturm in a rematch.  Carrera had a good record coming in, but the majority of his fights took place in Argentina against relatively unknown opposition.  He had not faced any of the big names in America.  That being said, this was a Madison Square Garden quality fight.  It was eighteen minutes of war!  They stood toe to toe and every punch they threw had bad intentions.  It was a fabulous display of heart.  Castillejo appeared hurt early on, but his experience and his conditioning got him through it.  As the fight progressed, the impact of the punches seemed to hurt Carrera more than they did Castillejo.  In the sixth round, Carrera got caught against the ropes and that was it. video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=MANGvDzakMQ

5. Ezra Sellers KO4 Carl Thompson, November 26, 2001:Sellers-Thompson was a magnificent fight in Manchester, England that hardly anyone saw.  It took place on a Monday night.  Sellers was challenging Thompson for Thompson’s IBO cruiserweight belt. In four rounds, both fighters tasted the canvas multiple times.  Sellers was a big underdog in this fight.  Earlier in his career, he had campaigned as a heavyweight.  He had come up short in meaningful fights, so he was now attempting to make his mark as a cruiserweight.  Thompson had hit a few bumps in the road as well, but he had recently captured a title and gained a little momentum.  In the first round, Sellers was knocked down and it looked like it was going to be a short night.  But then he got back up and he knocked Thompson down!  They went back and forth like that for four rounds until Sellers landed the signature punch and Thompson was out.  I have that fight poster prominently displayed in the gym at my home.  When fighters fight like that, it makes me proud to be the third man in the ring. video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oz95MqQN7fI

4. Derrick Jefferson KO6 Maurice Harris, November 6, 1999: Jefferson-Harris was apart of a showcase of up-and-coming heavyweights, who were about two victories away from earning a title shot.  We were the co-feature to Oleg Maskaev-Hasim Rahman.  Jefferson was a big, well-muscled gentleman, while Harris had a slender (for a heavyweight) and athletic physique.  It should have been a classic case of the boxer vs the puncher.  Instead, it was a slugfest!  In the second round, Derrick knocked Maurice down and had him in trouble.  Just as it looked as if he was going to finish him off, Derrick ran into something and got knocked down himself!  At the end of the round, both fighters exchanged a look of mutual respect and touched gloves.  It was a beautiful boxing moment.  In the sixth round, Maurice went down again.  It looked like he was on his way out, but then he wobbled Derrick!  And then Derrick came back and knocked him out with a big left hook!  I’ve heard a number of people compare this fight to George Foreman-Ron Lyle.  Like Foreman-Lyle, this was a back-and-forth contest between two big men where both guys tasted the canvas. [Editor's note: this knockout caused the famous, "I love you Derrick Jefferson!" soundbyte by HBO's Larry Merchant] video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZmswbDd4CeM

3. Kennedy McKinney KO11 Welcome Ncita, December 2, 1992: McKinney-Ncita was an absolute war between two undefeated fighters.  Ncita was a big star in South Africa and he was defending his IBF super bantamweight title.  McKinney was a former Olympian who was a serious up-and-comer.  There was a lot of back-and-forth action and McKinney was hurt at one point.  Welcome dropped him with a significant shot.  When Kennedy got up, he was still dazed.  I looked at him closely and he indicated that he wanted to continue.  When they resumed, I noticed that he recovered very quickly, which I attribute to his outstanding condition.  In the eleventh round, they got into a furious exchange. McKinney caught Welcome with a perfect right hand and that was it.  It was very sudden and dramatic.  At that point, the fight could have gone either way, but one punch changed it all. video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=liWY1Pi8A44

2. Simon Brown TKO14 Tyrone Trice, April 23, 1988: Brown-Trice was for the vacant IBF welterweight title.  At the pre-fight meeting, both camps made it clear that they wanted to fight to the finish.  They wanted a true champion to emerge.  The title was suspended in the middle of the ring and they were going to fight for it.  And boy did they fight!  This was the “Fight of the Year” in 1988.  In round nine, Brown caught Trice flush and Trice fell like a tree.  I made eye contact with him and I could see in his eyes that he was going to get up.  And he did!  This was a fifteen rounder and he gave me five more rounds.  In the fourteenth, he fell into my arms and Simon Brown emerged victorious.  This was a time in my career when I truly became aware of the incredible recuperative powers that some fighters possess.  How does a man who is hit flush make it to his feet and continue fighting?  It amazes me to this day.  On a personal note, this was the first fight where I was acknowledged on television for my work as a referee.  The late Gil Clancy, who was one of the announcers, paid me a lot of nice compliments during the broadcast and my career really took off from there. video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3sCDtI2Sko

1. Kelly Pavlik TKO7 Jermain Taylor, September 29, 2007: Going into this fight, Taylor was the subject of some criticism, given the fact that he did not have a dominant performance since winning the world middleweight crown.  As I recall, his team intended to make a statement.  They felt that Kelly was the perfect opponent for Jermain to shine, as did a number of other people in the boxing world.  Kelly was perceived as an underdog, despite piling up a string of knockout victories against Bronco McKart, Jose Luis Zertuche, and Edison Miranda.  In the second round, Jermain knocked Kelly down and had him in desperate trouble.  In my view, Jermain spent his gas tank after the knockdown when he tried to finish him off.  He followed the knockdown up with some tremendous punches that just missed.  To this day, over five years later, I can still feel the breeze from some of those shots Jermain threw.  Had he landed one of those shots, we would be discussing a different subject.  But Kelly survived the assault and in the third round, he began to systematically take over the fight.  In the seventh round, he caught Jermain with a right hand and that was it.  Jermain was out before he hit the canvas.  I didn’t even have to count.  That was the Fight of the Year in 2007 and it was a tremendous performance from both men.  There were several polls after the fight that speculated how ninety-five out of one hundred referees would have stopped the fight in round two when Kelly was hurt.  Nigel Collins wrote, “The What Ifs Of ’07.”  What if Steve Smoger called in ill on the night of Taylor-Pavlik? video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRNyjq7wkcQ

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Felix Trinidad TKO8 Ricardo Mayorga, Micky Ward KO1 Steve Quinonez, Harold Knight TKO7 Kenny Baysmore, Paul Ingle TKO11 Junior Jones, Mike Tyson TKO7 Brian Nielsen.

Courtesy: boxingtalk.com

70 Ways to Know if You’re an Ex-Fighter

70 Ways to Know if You’re an Ex-Fighter

By Peter Wood on December 14, 2012

You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you smile when people call you Champ. (Robert Ecksel)

What runs through the mind of an old ex-fighter? The cheering crowds are gone, the rigor of training is a faint memory, and the thrill of competition has vanished.

Now what?

1. You know you’re an ex-fighter if… you’ve ever had a Q-tip shoved up your nose.

2. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you miss the cheering crowds and still harbor a secret desire to make a comeback.

3. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you still hear your trainer’s voice screaming at you in your head.

4. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you find yourself frequently shadowboxing in your bathroom mirror at home.

5. You know you’re an ex-fighter if… you still distinguish your right from your left by remembering what side your opponent’s right hand came from.

6. You know you’re an ex-fighter if… you watch The Champ, Rocky or Million Dollar Baby and tear up.

7. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you watch a fight you can spot a converted southpaw in seconds.

8. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you forget simple words like door or telephone, or forget where the car is parked, you suspect brain damage.

9. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you know what a broken nose sounds like and will never forget what swollen jaw muscles feel like.

10. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you vow to go back to the boxing gym…as soon as you lose a few more pounds.

11. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you secretly wish that the obnoxious guy standing next to you would try something real stupid so you could, in self-defense, punch his face in.

12. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you sometimes experience random surges of anger.

13. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you fantasize about setting up a rematch with the guy who once beat you.

14.  You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you’re driving a car, you’re proud of your quick reflexes when you instinctively move your head left or right when debris hits your windshield.

15. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you can’t pass a store window without glancing at your reflection and throwing a few soft punches.

16. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you watch some of today’s fighters and smirk.

17. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you still have a trophy, a belt, photos, or a necklace prominently displayed in your home.

18. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you still have boxing dreams at night. Your dream is one of the following:
a) You’re standing in the dressing room and you’ve forgotten to pack your new boxing trunks.
b) Your trainer didn’t show up—you’re standing all alone in the dressing room.
c) As you step into the ring, you know you haven’t trained properly.
d) You step into the ring and box beautifully. The adoring crowd cheers you.

19. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you smile when people call you Champ.

20. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you are a noisy nose breather.

21. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…family members and friends sometimes tease you by calling you “Canvasback” or “Punchy”, or they squish their noses down with their thumbs and talk funny to you. (You smile good-naturedly, but you don’t like it.)

22. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you continually make boxing analogies, like “I’ll throw my hat into the ring”, “She’s a knockout”, “I went the distance” or “Keep punching!”

23. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you think headgear for amateurs is a big mistake.

24. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you suspect the size of your boxing talent was the size of your inferiority.

25. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you think (and you’ll never admit this) the real reason you became a fighter was because you were fearful…fearful of fighting mentally, or verbally.

26. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you secretly hate boxing. You suspect boxing is just plain stupid, and that it’s a brainless sport created for unhappy people—like yourself. But since you’ve invested so much time in boxing, since boxing has become a pillar of your very existence, you can’t turn your back on it. So you hear yourself defending it by saying sentences like: Boxing is art, or Boxing is a physical chess match or Boxing is a sport to which all other sports aspire.

27. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you wish you could talk as well as you could punch.

28. You know you’re an ex-fighter if… you sometimes think un-athletic people pick verbal fights with you because it makes them feel more athletic.

29. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you’re secretly proud of your broken nose, scarred eye, or missing front tooth (even your broken pinkie knuckle.)

30. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you are proud of the lasting friendships you’ve forged with all races, colors and creeds.

31. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you look into the mirror at your soft paunch and sigh—then do 50 sit-ups.

32. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you look at the pumped-up bodybuilders in the fitness gym, or karate guys jumping around in their white pajamas, and wonder if they could take a shot to the jaw.

33. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…in your wallet you carry a picture or personal identification establishing yourself as a former fighter.

34. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you watch a boxing match on TV, you find yourself looking at the old trainers and white-haired corner men as much as the fighters.

35. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…your address book has the names of at least two deceased boxing trainers, or corner men.

36. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you understand the similarity between a fight manager and his stable of fighters, and a pimp and his stable of whores.

37. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…there’s at least one painting in your house hiding the hole in the wall where you punched.

38. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…this morning your wife, or girlfriend, told you for the umpteenth time, Stop shadowboxing in the damn mirror!

39. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you see a guy with a long neck you immediately think “Easy KO victim.”

40. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…Ultimate Fighting makes you puke.

41. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you haven’t been in the ring for years but you still think about your upcoming comeback.

42. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you link time periods with fighters. The 1920s is Dempsey; the ‘30s is Primo Carnera; the 1940s is Joe Louis; the 1950s is Marciano, and the ‘60s is Patterson-Liston-Clay.

43. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you link geographical areas with fighters. Panama is Roberto Duran; Nigeria is Dick Tiger; Louisville, Kentucky is Muhammad Ali; Brockton, Massachusetts is Rocky Marciano.

44. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…your old Ring magazines are neatly stored in a cardboard box down in the basement.

45. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you snore.

46. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you vow to visit the Boxing Hall of Fame…as soon as you lose a few more pounds.

47. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you make stupid connections such as: I once punched the nose of someone who punched the nose of someone who punched the nose of some important fighter.

48. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…in certain social circles, when you tell people that you were once a fighter, you notice their awkward expressions, and then you feel your I.Q. plunge 20 points.

49. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…there’s one fight that still bothers you. Through the years you’ve fought this fight over and over again in your mind, but you still lose.

50. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…the newspapers reported the results of your fights in agate print.

51. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you habitually seek out the agate print in newspapers.

52. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you even know what agate print is.

53. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you know someone who pissed blood—perhaps that someone was you.

54. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you look at a telephone pole and think sprints; you see a Q-tip and remember bloody noses; you hear “Night Train” and think Sonny Liston.

55. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when someone asks you, “How many fights did you have?” you add 1 or 2 wins to your ring record. (You feel guilty doing this, but you still do it. Every time.)

56. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you recognize the smell of witch-hazel.

57. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you have ever heard of Monsole’s solution.

58. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you know how to throw a bolo punch.

59. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you know what a “shoe-shine” is.

60. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you can still hear Johnny Addie’s voice in the arena.

61. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you think boxing gloves with Velcro is a beautiful invention.

62. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you think a water-filled heavybag is another beautiful invention.

63. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…it upsets you walking by a newsstand knowing they don’t carry Ring magazine anymore.

64. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you secretly visualize yourself stepping back into the ring.  You even fanaticize about the perfect entrance song that will accompany you as you step through the ropes…but you have absolutely no desire to hit anyone anymore.

65. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you frequently want to give your boss a knuckle sandwich.

66. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…the way a fighter throws a left hook is a very important issue to you. Does he throw it with his palm facing toward him; or with his palm facing down?  (The correct answer:  Facing him.)

67. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you smile when you hear effete political analysts use boxing analogies: “Put up your dukes!” “No hitting below the belt!” “Come out swinging at the bell!” “He took it on the chin!” “He’s down for the count!” “They threw in the towel.” “He’s the real McCoy!” “I’ll be in your corner.” 

68. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you watch a fight on TV, you still bob and weave.

69. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…when you watch KO highlights on TV, instead of applauding, you wince.

70. You know you’re an ex-fighter if…you have ever held a little baby in your arms and when that little baby popped you on the nose, your eyes welled up with tears and you were reminded once more: “Hey, that hurts!”

Courtesy: boxing.com

Steve Cunningham’s daughter has her dad’s fighting spirit

Steve Cunningham’s daughter has her dad’s fighting spirit

BY JOSEPH SANTOLIQUITO

You tend to lean in close to hear the faint, raspy whispers from the sweet, delicate voice. Step back and the chubby-cheeked, beautiful wide-eyed gift of a 7-year-old girl comes into focus and you tend to forget what she’s been through. You tend to push past the scar at the base of her throat from the tracheotomy. You forget the severed vocal cords and jagged 6-inch line that runs vertically down the middle of her chest from two open-heart surgeries, or the stroke that threatened her life, among many other things.

You forget these things when Kennedy Cunningham comes into view, a bright, vivacious, adorable girl. And all thoughts of the pain and suffering she endured just to inhale a gasp of air goes away.

Steve Cunningham is in the pain-and-suffering business of boxing. The former two-time IBF cruiserweight world champion with a granite-like physique doesn’t have to venture far to realize someone in the family is much tougher than he is. His eyes drift toward his daughter Kennedy, who was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome, a rare congenital disease that occurs when parts of the left side of the heart (mitral valve, left ventricle, aortic valve and aorta) are not completely developed.

Basically, Kennedy was born with half a heart, the size of a tiny strawberry, though she probably exhibits more heart than most. It’s a struggle for her to run around for prolonged periods like other children. She tires quickly. Her coordination is just returning, breaking the atrophy that set in from long hospital stays. Her immune system is weak; a cold can mean another trip to the hospital.

“I feel special; I don’t understand everything that’s happened to me. I just know I have a strong heart,” Kennedy says. “I don’t want to be treated differently.”

Steve and Livvy Cunningham, Kennedy’s parents, don’t. They treat her as they would any child. Kennedy, the only girl and middle of three Cunningham children, goes to a regular school, participates in gym class, plays with other children and illuminates every room she walks into.

She will be ringside next Saturday, when her dad fights Tomasz Adamek on the nationally televised NBC broadcast at 4 p.m. from the Sands Casino Resort, in Bethlehem. It’s a rematch of the 2008 cruiserweight classic that was a Fight of the Year candidate.

During that title defense, Cunningham got up three times from knockdowns and lost by a split decision at the Prudential Center in Newark, N.J. Cunningham (25-4, 12 KOs) has had to wait 4 years for a rematch, though this time it comes at heavyweight.

Steve’s fight with Adamek, a former cruiserweight world champion and heavyweight contender, is nothing compared to the emotional toil he and Livvy endured the first year of Kennedy’s life.

How can they forget?

X X X

In April 2005, 5 months into Livvy’s pregnancy, Steve and Livvy were in a doctor’s office laughing and chatting with an ultrasound tech. It was a routine visit to check on the measurements of their baby, and for Steve, the promise that Little Steve, the Cunninghams’ oldest, would be joined by a baby sister.

Subtle life shifts have a way of resonating. For Steve and Livvy it came when the tech guided the transducer probe to the baby’s heart area, turning a euphoric moment suddenly somber. Something wasn’t right.

“We were hoping it was a girl, and we didn’t sense anything was wrong until the tech left and came back with a doctor, who said he had to talk to us in his office,” Steve says. “We started to wonder what was up and he told us they found a complication. He explained that there could be something wrong with the baby’s heart. I’m from a family where everyone has kids and no one has any health issues, so it was a little hard to take.

“It was emotional. We’re Christians and we believe in what the Bible says, so we had to keep it under control. I had questions myself, ‘Why my daughter?’ I’m an emotional guy, but it all didn’t hit until later. God allowed me to look at it as a fight. That’s the way I saw it. We still have a chance, and if God is here, He won’t put us through this for nothing.”

Yet, Steve and Livvy expressed a gamut of emotions. Sadness, confusion, fear.

“We went there and I remember thinking, hoping someone was going to say, ‘Congratulations, you’re having a girl,’ and for me, I was shell-shocked,” Livvy says. “I remember being emotional that day driving home and Steve was a rock. He’s great in the clutch like that and definitely someone you want to lean on. I was scared. I didn’t know what to think. But for me, nothing was going to be 100 percent real until she was born.”

The next day, the young couple went to the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) and were directed to the Fetal Heart Program where a new term entered their world: hypoplastic left heart syndrome, or HLHS.

Serious heart defects occur in one in every 100 births. Out of that small percentage, 5 to 10 percent are born with HLHS.

“Kennedy has one of the most complex congenital heart defects,” says CHOP cardiologist Dr. Geoffrey Bird, Kennedy’s doctor. “HLHS is universally fatal without surgery. Some babies have a direct course in the three-part surgery. The surgery allows the body to grow and develop, so the heart can have one main pumping chamber instead of two.

“There’s been real progress recently in how to treat this disease. In the best-case scenario, 90<TH>percent of babies born with this can have that single-chamber heart work well for 10 years or longer. What we learned is we can make the heart work better. Kennedy is a living miracle. She has one of the more complicated courses. What Kennedy went through at birth, only a small percentage of our population needs those extraordinary measures.”

The Cunninghams were offered the option to abort. “We weren’t aborting; that wasn’t even a discussion,” Steve says. “We were hopeful and trying to be as strong as we could be — going into the unknown. It was like flying in outer space without any navigation.”

Livvy kept thinking if Kennedy stayed in the womb, remained where she was, she’d be shielded from this terrible disease. “You’re a mother, and you’d do anything to protect your child,” she says. “But they told us there could be a cure.”

Hypoplastic left heart syndrome can be treated with three surgeries. Kennedy’s first would occur within her first few days, followed by a hospital stay of 10 days to 2 weeks. The second surgery would take place within her initial 6 months and the third by the time she was 2.

If only it was that smooth.

“It spins your perspective on life and you take it a day at a time, so I have a real good idea what \[Steve and Livvy\] were going through,” says Greg Olsen, the Carolina Panthers’ tight end whose 2-month-old son, T.J., was born with the same defect. “It gives you a crash course in reality. T.J. was born on a Tuesday, and the first thing Thursday morning he’s having open-heart surgery. We knew the risks going in. Doctors gave us a wide spectrum of prognoses and told us there were positive stories, and not so positive stories.

“It flips the world upside down on you and makes you appreciate what you have. T.J. is a twin, and he’s only 2 months old now, not doing a whole lot. But you see the two of them, T.J. and his sister, next to each other and you would have no idea. Aside from the big scar down his chest, you wouldn’t know anything was wrong with him. It’s still a disease that can take a life. But everything, thank God, is going well.”

T.J. is home without any feeding tubes or breathing assistance and has been breathing on his own the past month.

“We’ve been fortunate,” Olsen says.

The Cunninghams weren’t as fortunate.

X X X

Kennedy was born on Sept. 6, 2005, at Pennsylvania Hospital. Steve was with Livvy when she was induced. Just 3 days earlier, he had won a unanimous decision over Kelvin Davis in Cleveland.

“I didn’t want to leave her, but we wanted to keep things as normal as we could,” Steve says. “We were going to have breakdowns but not shutdowns. I went off to camp, because then, it was the most important fight of my career. I was promoted by Don King at the time and he didn’t care. There was no way he would have let me back out.”

Steve remained a pillar. His focus during training camp was to beat Davis, and in winning create a better opportunity for Kennedy and his family. “I wanted to be as strong as possible, and I don’t want to sound tough or anything, but I wanted to set an example for Livvy; I didn’t want to break down,” he says. “Oh, it was a great challenge. It was an opportunity to stand on the truths I believe in the Bible.”

When Kennedy was born, the Cunninghams got to hold her for 10 minutes before she was shuttled to CHOP’s cardiac intensive care unit. They wouldn’t hold her again for months. The next day, Kennedy underwent her first surgery. Steve and Livvy received hourly updates until the procedure was over, and were told surgeons were closing her up.

Then the updates stopped. An hour passed. Then another. Tension escalated. It grew when a nurse showed up, accompanied by a doctor, and escorted them to a white conference room furnished with two metal chairs. A minute’s walk felt like a death-row march.

Doctors told the Cunninghams the surgery went well, but Kennedy was losing blood and they couldn’t close her up. They warned them that she might not make it. “I was a mess; I began breaking down and thought the worst,” Livvy says.

“\[I thought\] she was still with us and I kept thinking we still had one more card to play and began praying right there,” Steve says.

The tiny girl literally fought for every breath she took; her heart could be felt beating under paper-thin skin. A day passed. She seemed stronger. “For some reason, we always saw her getting better, despite what we kept hearing,” Livvy says.

With each day, it appeared she was getting better. Then, 2 months later, more trouble. “Doctors came in and told us that they didn’t think she would live, every day they pumped so many fluids into her she blew up to twice her size,” Livvy says. “A major edema was occurring, but she needed the fluids and medicine. We were happy she began urinating.”

But Kennedy’s tiny heart was beaten up. She was on a bypass machine longer than expected and that damaged her lungs. She was so puffy she looked like a mini-sumo wrestler. Some days her eyes were so swollen she couldn’t open them to see her dad grab her petite, doll-like fingers and rub them against his head.

Steve and Livvy spent many long, gut-wrenching dark nights at CHOP. Steve would do his morning run, train and head back to the hospital. Livvy, who was working full time, would go right from work. They juggled their schedules and relied on Livvy’s mom, Randi Vega, to drive up from Baltimore every weekend to give them a break.

They gauged how sick Kennedy was by the number of intravenous drips she had (as many as 10 at a time) for pain meds, heart meds, blood-thinning meds, antibiotics, and what seemed like meds for the meds. There was a Christmas tree of monitors and cords helping to keep her alive.

“It was like a knock-down, drag-out fight and Kennedy was the fighter; she had staph infections that would knock an adult out,” Livvy says. “We’d always ask when we could bring her home until it reached a point we stopped asking. The nurses at CHOP made things so bearable. They knew everything about Kennedy. I was able to work and I knew she was in good hands. I love nurses, especially after everything we’ve been through.”

In the meantime, Steve tried resuming his career. He took a stay-busy fight in January 2006 at Madison Square Garden, stopping Lloyd Bryan in five rounds. He was aiming for a bout with IBF cruiserweight champion O’Neil Bell, but Bell wanted no part of Cunningham and was playing the waiting game.

It didn’t matter. Cunningham was already twisting inside, seeing his daughter propped up with her head back, nonresponsive.

“It bothered me not being able to pick her up,” he says. “Doctors told us when she was 4 months old about the tracheostomy. It would help her breathing and give us the freedom to hold her. I was against it at first, because I didn’t want any more tubes in her. I remember a day coming to see her and she had an IV sticking out of her head. That \[ticked\] me off. Just to see that was crazy. After the nurses explained it, it was OK. But the visual of that was disturbing.”

After the second surgery, in July 2006, Livvy noticed Kennedy’s left hand had balled into a fist and was pulsating. She asked the doctors why it was happening. Ten-month-old Kennedy had suffered a stroke.

A month later, Kennedy was cleared to go home, 2 weeks before her first birthday. She weighed 15 pounds. Her limbs were shriveled and she was hooked up to a ventilator, which Livvy and Steve learned to operate.

They thought they were prepared for anything. They thought. A few months later, they noticed that Kennedy’s eyes had rolled back. There was an obstruction lodged in her tracheotomy tube. “She wasn’t getting oxygen and we acted; we kept our cool and called the ambulance,” Steve says. “I remember putting her on a breathing bag and we kept her alive until the EMTs arrived. After that scare, she’s been home ever since.”

In April 2009, Kennedy had the tracheotomy tube removed. She didn’t begin talking until she was 3, and was almost 4 when she was able to walk. She still gets a strange look or two when children at the playground notice her tracheostomy scar. But Steve and Livvy refuse to see the world through a narrow, angry squint. “Kids do stare, but Steve and I always stressed that we would raise her normally. She’s not disabled and we’re going to treat her like she’s a normal child,” Livvy says. “No one has been really rude. Kennedy’s only real issues are with her vocal cords. It’s kind of a shame, because she likes to sing.”

Kennedy’s third surgery is pending. She might eventually need a heart transplant since her heart, in its current condition, can’t support an adult.

“She is a happy, playful, comfortable girl who’s doing great, considering the criteria for going through all of that,” says Bird, Kennedy’s cardiologist. “We’re thrilled with how far she’s come and don’t see a limit to her horizon. In reality, she may need more surgery down the road. A third surgery or transplant depends on how things go.”

Says Livvy: “As she gets older, things will get more dangerous. It’s why we think every day is a blessing — it really is, she knows how proud we are — proud of her taking a breath.

“She already has my vote for the best little girl in the world. It’s taught us about little victories. It makes you celebrate every little thing.”

Kennedy sleeps without any worries, and that eases her father’s anxiety. His upcoming bout with Adamek could be career-changing. But Cunningham now fights for something more than a payday. His fight is deeper than that.

“I fight with life and death involved,” he says. “It’s like if Kennedy wasn’t here, we wouldn’t be who we are. I know it’s no one’s fault what’s happened. I’m not angry at the world. She’s an inspiration to me. Winning and losing is a lot at stake for Kennedy.

“I have no questions about my faith. I see my prayers answered every day staring me right in the face. Dealing with Kennedy’s situation has made me know what it’s like being a man.

“I fight for her.”

Courtesy: boxinginlasvegas.com

A Letter from Emanuel Steward

A LETTER FROM EMANUEL STEWARD
Written by Thomas Hauser
Monday, 17 December 2012 22:31



Dear Tom,

I never got to say goodbye the way I wanted to. So I thought I’d say hello from here and bring you up to date on what’s been happening lately.

I was in the hospital, not feeling good. Then I fell asleep. And the next thing I knew, I was in a car going through some pearly gates. I asked the driver where we were, and he said, “You’ll see.”

That night, there was a big welcome dinner for me. I couldn’t believe all the people who were there. James Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, Ezzard Charles, Marcel Cerdan.

John L. Sullivan was at the next table. He’s drinking again. What a character.

I was sitting next to Joe Louis. That was a real honor. I was so happy, I said to Joe, “This is fantastic. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Joe told me, “That’s exactly what you done.”

It’s amazing up here. The first fights I saw were Sam Langford against Gene Tunney and Benny Leonard against Joe Gans. There’s boxing three nights a week and everyone goes in tough. Rocky Marciano has lost a few times. Joe Louis stopped him in the eleventh round. That was payback for what Rocky did to Joe at Madison Square Garden in 1951. But Marciano has won his share of fights and a loss on a fighter’s record doesn’t matter that much.

There are no sanctioning bodies. We’ve got same-day weigh-ins. All the fights are on free TV. It’s boxing, so the only way a fighter can win is by hurting the other guy. But they fight more often here than down on earth because the recovery time is shorter.

Arturo Gatti fights mostly in the small clubs. Every time out, it’s standing room only. He had a war against Lenny Mancini about a year ago that people are still talking about. Teddy Brenner made that match.

Joe Frazier got here, and the first thing he wanted to do was fight Jack Johnson. He said that Papa Jack reminded him of Ali.

Eddie Futch and Yank Durham told him, “Joe; hold off a bit. You have to get used to the altitude.”

Joe said, ‘F--k the altitude. I want to fight.”

I’m training fighters with Luther Burgess and Bill Miller the way I did years ago. Ray Arcel has given me a lot of tips. What’s really exciting is that Archie Moore asked me to work his corner when he fights Sugar Ray Robinson at Yankee Stadium at the end of the month.

That’s the old Yankee Stadium. One of the things I love about this place is the venues. James Jeffries is scheduled to fight Jess Willard at the Polo Grounds later this year. George Carpentier is going up against Billy Conn at Boyle’s Thirty Acres.

I’ve also been doing some television commentary. Last week, I called the fight between Henry Armstrong and Salvador Sanchez. It was my first time working with Don Dunphy, and I was a little nervous. But before the fight, Don told me, “You don’t have to talk all the time. There are no network executives to please. Just sit back, enjoy the fight, and say what comes to mind when there’s something important to say.”

I learned so much over the years working with Jim, Larry, and Harold that I fit in fine with Don. The fight was amazing. I used to watch films of Henry Armstrong. And now I was watching him fight live.

Well, not exactly live. But he was right in front of me.

Armstrong didn’t throw combinations as much as he threw punches all the time. When the bell rang, he got in Sanchez’s face and banged away non-stop from every angle. It wasn’t just bang! He was like a machine gun. Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang! I started explaining to the TV audience all the subtle things that Henry was doing. He was keeping his chin close to his chest, so Sanchez couldn’t hit him cleanly. He had a way of getting his elbows back against his body so, when he got inside, Sanchez couldn’t tie him up. And his arms never got out to where Sanchez could clinch with him.

When the fight was over, Dunphy patted me on the shoulder and said, “You did just fine.”

Jack Dempsey is fighting Rocky Marciano at the old Madison Square Garden in six weeks. I’m signed to work with Dunphy again on that one. Do you know how excited I am about that?

I was talking with A. J. Liebling the other day and told him I’d always dreamed of something like this. That night, Liebling gave me a poem by Robert Browning. There’s a line in it that reads, “A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?”

Anyway; tell everybody you talk with that I appreciate all the nice things they’ve said about me. I can’t believe Aretha Franklin sang at my memorial service.

Tell Wladimir that he’ll do just fine without me.

Tell Lennox that I smile whenever I think of him.

Tommy Hearns was my first big star. Make sure he knows how much that meant to me.

Hilmer Kenty, Milton McCrory, Michael Moorer, all the champions I had; if you run into them, let them how much joy working with them brought me.

And the same goes for all the fighters I worked with who never made it beyond six-round club fights but were champions at heart.

I was blessed with an extraordinary group of friends and lived my life the way I wanted to live it.

Warm wishes,

Emanuel

Courtesy: the sweetscience.com

Roberto Duran - Beyond the Glory (Documentary)

Thirty Years Ago: Tex Cobb Meets Larry Holmes

Thirty Years Ago Today: Tex Cobb Meets Larry Holmes

By Sharon Cobb on November 26, 2012

 

The day of the fight was the usual blend of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. (Jeffro Kilpatrick)

Although the fight looked like a train wreck and Cosell was calling for it to be stopped, Tex told me wasn’t hurt at all…

I don’t recall any fight in history quite as one-sided as Larry Holmes vs. Randall “Tex” Cobb. In one corner you had Holmes, aka The Easton Assassin, longtime heavyweight champion with a perfect 40-0 record. In the other corner you had a cowboy from Texas with no amateur background, who had fought only 80 rounds (not 80 fights), but had rounds of life experience by the time he found his way in the ring, fighting for the heavyweight title.
To say it was premature is an understatement. The late Paul Clinite was hungry for a Great White Hope, but Tex was less Great White Hope than great white entertainer, particularly in boxing with its stereotype of gangsters who pimped out their fighters. Still, before he fought Holmes, Tex had stopped Earnie Shavers and lost a split decision to Ken Norton in 1980, and never had an ounce of leather laid on him prior to turning pro.
Unfortunately, for the most part the “pimps” didn’t care about the fighters; just about how many rounds their whores could go at the expense of how much blood they left on the canvas. In Tex’s case, it was a lot. That’s the bad news. The good news is it looked worse than it was. It’s true that Tex’s words after the fight were “Let’s party.” I know. He said them to me. He said them to two other women as well, but I’ll get to that in a moment.
Let me digress and give you a behind-the-scenes look at what happened leading up to this fight. You won’t hear a story quite like this again.
It was Thanksgiving time, and a lot of the crew were cranky about being away from home for the holidays. No one was more vocal about his displeasure than Howard Cosell, who was the most annoying sportscaster I ever met.
As we were getting in the elevator at the Houston Astrodome where the fight was being held, Howard turned to Tex and said, “My wife called, and is upset that I am away for Thanksgiving.”
Without missing a beat, Tex turned to Howard and said, “That’s funny, she called me and thanked me.”
Yep. Meet Tex Cobb. My ex-husband.
Tex wasn’t going to let getting in the ring stop him from getting everything he could on the dinner table, including a bird, mashed potatoes, sweet potato pie, greens, and pecan pie, not to mention the table itself, along with the straws.
Tex liked his drugs. I won’t mention what they were here, because Tex doesn’t work and makes a living the best he can from being litigious. But let me say most people would have been in cardiac arrest from what he did, let alone fight 15 rounds against Larry Holmes.
Not known to me at the time, he had two other fiancés there. Tex and I were engaged; Priscilla, his long suffering girlfriend of eight years was there; and Kathy, his pregnant soon-to-be first wife was there too. None one of us knew about the other, so Tex was going back and forth from room to room, having dinner with all of us and doing things with all of us that fighters aren’t supposed to do the night before a big fight. Indeed, it was easy to forget we weren’t on vacation, and that we were in Houston for a reason.
Yep. That was my husband, Tex Cobb.
I’m not sure how he juggled who was going to sit next to his mother at the fight, but Priscilla was the closest, or so I hear. I couldn’t watch the fight past the fourth round, so it doesn’t matter. Kathy was braver than I, so she deserves bragging rights.
The day of the fight, it was the usual blend of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll, and several hours before the opening bell his trainers, managers, and mostly hangers-on came and got him. I suspect to take him to Kathy or Priscilla’s room, but don’t know for sure.
At the fight, it wasn’t long before my heart was beating irregularly, and we could all hear Cosell like a knife being turned in our backs each time he opened his mouth. I left for a round or two, just to get back in time to see Tex walking to the wrong corner. Tex swore he wasn’t hurt and was just confused as to which corner was his. I’ll take his word for it.
Although the fight looked like a train wreck and Cosell was calling for it to be stopped, Tex told me he wasn’t hurt at all. I assume most of you reading this know boxing and understand weight shift, and for some reason Larry didn’t have any power behind his punches. When you watch the fight again, look at Holmes’ legs. Look at him when he throws a right hand. It’s almost as if he’s saying, “Here, hold this.” At times, it’s almost like he is leaning backwards when throwing a punch. So as bad as it looked, it was, according to Tex, more like getting slapped than getting punched. I count my blessings for that, because had Holmes been on his game, it could have turned out very differently.
Tex unceremoniously dumped Priscilla and eventually married Kathy, Kathy dumped Tex after she quit drugs and had two beautiful boys (sadly, one of them was killed in a car accident), and Tex tracked me down in Nashville. I thought he should be in the movies and became his manager, and it wasn’t long before we were married, and stayed married for ten years. Then he went and ran off with a punk rocker with purple hair. How could I compete with that?
So that is the story of Tex and Sharon Cobb, Tex and boxing, Tex and women, Tex and drugs, the story of the most unique man I’ve ever known.
For all the insanity and lies and whatnot, he remains my husband in my heart, and I hope he is happy and well.
Sharon Cobb is the former Southeast Correspondent for MSNBC Online, documentary filmmaker and press writer for Al Gore in his bid for President in 1999, a disc jockey and sportswriter, a book editor and, her most insane job, manager of Tex Cobb.

She can be reached at: misssharoncobb@aol.com

Courtesy: boxing.com

Bruce "The Mouse" Strauss on the David Letterman Show

Bruce "The Mouse" Strauss

on

The David Letterman Show