
Carl Froch has finally found a locale for his Super Six bout with Arthur Abraham that fails to give him the screaming meemies. After holding the tournament hostage for weeks, Froch recently agreed to face Abraham in the Principality of Monaco. Now that Froch has had his nerves soothed, he is back to talking like an extra from “Get Carter.” “Make no mistake about it,” he said last week, “I fully appreciate the threat that Abraham presents to me in this fight. Whenever two warriors go into battle there will be bloodshed. But there will be only one victor in Monaco and that will be the Cobra.”
Given his paranoia and persecutionmania, perhaps Froch would feel more comfortable swapping blows with Abraham in the corridors of Broadmoor or Carstairs. Froch seems traumatized by his points loss to Mikkel Kessler in Denmark last April. Everyone loses a close decision now and then, but where most saw a nip-and-tuck affair, Froch saw crop circles, flying saucers, and little green men out of the corner of his eye. Rumors were aswirl that Froch would be in touch with Interpol if the fight landed anywhere but in his lounge or on his terrace in Nottingham. More and more Froch kvetched until, finally, even the entrenched overlord of boxing—money—was toppled. A fantastic gate in Germany was sacrificed so that Froch would rise from the sulks, abandon his thumbsucking routine, and cease threatening the stability of the World Boxing Classic.
Consequently, Froch may have adversely affected the bottom line of the promotion with his suspicions.
Froch-Abraham, alas, will not even take place in Monte Carlo, depriving Showtime blow-by-blow announcer Gus Johnson of half-baked allusions to “Never Say Never Again” or The Grand Prix. No, it will take place in Fontvieille, a district with a population estimated to be around 3,000. Monaco itself has only about 35,000 residents, which means that Manny Pacquiao drew more folks to his fight with Joshua Clottey at Dallas Cowboys Stadium than there are people in all of Monaco. In fact, barring Vatican City, Monaco is the smallest country in the world. And this is where the only all-European fight thus far in the Super Six will land on October 2nd, in a rainy month sans the throngs of tourists to be found during summer hours.
It remains to be seen whether a site fee was negotiated somewhere along the way, but, if so, it can hardly match what box office receipts would bring in Berlin.
Monaco has not hosted a prizefight in nearly four years. Its last major bout took place in 1994 when Anaclet Wamba and Adolpho Washington labored to a draw for some cruiserweight Gyricon title or other. Only ten cards have been held there in the last 20 years, and not a single distinguished professional fighter has ever emerged from Monaco. Even with its reputation as a tax sanctuary and a sporting town, it’s difficult to imagine thousands of Monegasques, or, more importantly, Monacoians, turning out to see a pursuit long since forgotten by Formula 1 enthusiasts and Omaha/8 players.
Nor is it a sure thing that Britons, Armenians, or Germans will follow their heroes en masse to Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, where they will board a helicopter to Monaco.
But two things regarding this Group Stage III bout are certain; first, that Froch-Abraham will be the best fight of the Super Six, and, second, Mikkel Kessler, who lives in Monaco, will be one spectator guaranteed to be at ringside. His ticket, however, will be complimentary.
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image: boxrec.com
My article on 1920s lightweight phenom Al Singer is featured on The Boxing Bulletin. His tumultuous–and colorful–career was tainted by gangland links, and his promise as a fighter was cut short by one of the malignant gods of boxing: Fate.
Read Lightning Express: The Quick Rise & Even Quicker Fall Of Al Singer on The Boxing Bulletin.
(Welcome to another edition of Sound & Fury, the boxing column that blackens eyes and skips clichés. This week read about the challenge Richard Schaefer offered Bob Arum, how Golden Boy continues to skirt regulations, and why Antonio Margarito fighting Manny Pacquiao might not be such a bad thing after all. In addition, S & F offers a roundup of all the televised action from last night, some random notes, another angle on the Paul Briggs debacle, and final thoughts on Vic Ziegel.)

“The great championship bouts are often fought in saloons, where the matchmakers never have to worry about financial arrangements, or the size of the ring, or the television contracts, or which contestant is entitled to wear white trunks. The Joe Louis vs. Jack Dempsey heavyweight championship fight is typical of the dream battles that are staged with right hands wrapped tightly around a drink. Left hands are used for nothing more than emphasis, and footwork consists of the ability to remain standing.”
The New York State Athletic Commission lifted the suspension it imposed on Golden Boy Promotions last week and instead levied a $10,000 fine against GBP for failure to provide paperwork in a timely manner. This is a pretty quick reversal of fortune in a sport where it takes a year or so for its two best fighters to negotiate a match worth tens of millions of dollars.
Without shame—something completely lacking in 85% of media members—boxing websites across the farthest reaches of cyberspace printed in its entirety a smug Golden Boy press release exonerating itself. Outlets that never reported the suspension in the first place (instead posting a GBP preemptive strike statement) had no problem printing only stories written by Golden Boy Promotions about the entire affair. This is something that ought to be accompanied by a laugh track, but be careful; if you giggle, it might be termed “actionable.”
One interesting byproduct of the infamous midnight press conference last week was the explosion of tears over the fact that Tim Bradley, Andre Berto, and Paul Williams were not going to fight Manny Pacquiao. Among the biggest bellyachers were lachrymose promoters shut out by Top Rank.
“Tim Bradley is a tremendous fighter and he’s a great young man,” Arum said, “but the problem with a guy like Tim Bradley is that even though you and I know what a superb fighter he is, the public really doesn’t know. That’s why a lot of these promoters are shouting out names of very good fighters. We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars building up our fighters and publicizing them so they are pay-per-view attractions. Losing money on a lot of events making them. The other promoters don’t really promote their fighters. They take money form HBO or Showtime or a little Indian casino and they think they’re doing the kid a big service. I’m not going to give them a free ride on the work we have done.” You could almost see Gary Shaw, Lou DiBella, and Dan Goosen reaching for pacifiers and overturning their cradles in anger.
When Bob Arum arranged a 3:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time conference call on Saturday to announce that Floyd Mayweather had missed an “exclusivity” deadline, he brought boxing vaudeville into the 21st century with a wink and a nod.
“I got in it for the money, but I saw that there were more things involved. There are two ways to get respectability, the right way and the wrong way, and I’d like to be known for doing something good.”
Mac Foster to Dave Anderson