By Michael Swann

The AP reported it last Monday, shockingly straight to the point: “Greg Page, a former heavyweight boxing champion who suffered a severe brain injury in a 2001 fight, has died at his Louisville home. He was 50.”

The AP story went on to report that “The March 9, 2001 fight left Page in a coma for nearly a week. He then had a stroke during post-fight surgery. He was paralyzed on his left side and received intensive physical therapy.”

Page’s wife, Patricia, attributed his death to injuries incurred from that fight.

I suppose in this day of fractured titles, the name of Greg Page may not mean much to younger boxing fans today. But in the early eighties it meant a lot.

In the first place, just being a boxer born in Louisville meant a lot at the time. Muhammad Ali was from there. So was another heavyweight champion, James Ellis. While enjoying a highly successful amateur career, Page sparred with Ali at age 15 and actually fought a three round exhibition with “The Greatest” in 1976. Many knowledgeable boxing people even touted Page as Ali’s successor.

He turned pro in 1979, and there was quite a bit of positive buzz about his boxing future at the time. Ali was close to the end of the line and Greg’s style was similar in many ways. He had height, 6’2”, the fluid ring movement, the jab with the 81” reach, and he was a natural athletic talent.

But on the other hand, his fluctuating weight showed a lack of discipline, and his showboating antics in the ring simply seemed to be copy cat Ali without the benefit of Ali’s heart and inner resolve to back it up. 

Page’s father, Albert, kept a protective eye on his son, but when he died of lung cancer at age 45, the promoters began to circle overhead. Lost without Albert’s guidance, Greg signed contracts with both Don King and Butch Lewis and was then trapped in the resulting litigation.

To make matters worse, Page borrowed $1.2 million from King primarily to finance the litigation, according to an article in USA Today. He overstaffed and overpaid the staff of Greg Page Enterprises, and allegedly was shortchanged in some purses.

In March 1984, with a multi-million dollar network contract on the line, Greg lost a majority decision to Tim Witherspoon in a fight for the vacant WBC title, inexplicably leaning on the ropes throughout the fight.

That December he had his one shining moment, winning the WBA title by stopping Gerrie Coetzee in eight rounds in South Africa, drawing  some criticism from anti-apartheid groups for his participation there. Regardless, he was a champion.

Then five months later he lost the title by unanimous decision to Tony Tubbs.

That was followed by a decision loss to Buster Douglas, a DQ win, and a TKO loss to 5-5-1 Mark Wills in 1986. At one point he had lost five of seven and after a loss to  comebacking Joe Bugner, he was out of the ring for 20 months. 

His business career was going as badly as his fistic career. In 1986 he lost a farm and a condo by foreclosure.

Greg returned to the ring in 1986, fighting mostly no-names, winning most but losing more than a high caliber fighter should. Wills, this time coming in at 10-9-1, stopped him again in 1990.

Because of his name and status as a former heavyweight champion, he still fought in some of the better venues, but he was no longer considered a title threat. Bruce Seldon stopped Page in 1993 and Greg turned to training, in the corner leading Oliver McCall to the heavyweight title over Lennox Lewis in 1994.

If only he had remained in that position…

But Greg returned to the ring in 1996, fighting in venues such as Virginia Beach, North Carolina, Nashville, Tennessee, and Gary, Indiana. He then ran off a string of early round knockouts against a collection of creampuffs.

George Foreman’s title winning victory in 1994 over Michael Moorer just two months prior to his 46th birthday had the downside of bringing back too many washed up pugs hoping to catch lightning in a bottle as did Foreman. Greg Page was one of these men.

Unfortunately there is but one George Foreman.

Greg lost five of his last nine fights, two of the last three by knockout. In March 2001 at age 42 he was matched with 24 year old Dale Crowe at Peel’s Palace, by all accounts a dump, in Erlanger, Kentucky. Page was fighting for the vacant Kentucky state heavyweight title, and was to earn $1500. 

The Kentucky athletic commission had just recently created the title.

Just before the final bell, Page was on the floor unable to rise, suffering from a brain bleed. The USA Today article states that as many as eight state and federal laws governing boxing safety may have been violated in this bout.

For example, there was no emergency oxygen, and no stretcher at ringside. The ringside doctor didn’t have a license to practice medicine in Kentucky or a license to act as a ringside physician.

Page filed suit in 2002 against the state athletic commission members, the “doctor,” and the promoter. In 2007, he won a relatively trivial $1.2 million settlement. Kentucky boxing officials also agreed to check the health conditions of prospective participants who may be at risk for injury.

Greg Page ended his career with a record of 58-17-1, with 48 KO’s. He was stopped six times, the last one in Erlanger, Kentucky that left him close to death, brain damaged, and paralyzed to earn $1500 at his chosen profession.

Page’s death is a reminder that we owe our athletes the commitment to simply do the right thing in following safety guidelines. There is no need to radically change the rules to protect fighters. The problem is not so much in the rules as the people enforcing them.

The state commissions, such as Kentucky although there are surely more, that cut corners for greed, license anyone with a pulse and marquee value while they chisel every last dollar from valiant warriors risking death or permanent injury every time they step into the ring are the primary reason that we need a National Commission.

A man shouldn’t have to place his health and well being at risk simply because he fights in a backward state with a third world mentality.

Add to that thought those brave promoters, managers, commissioners, and corner men who send these guys out when they should be calling it quits and put them in peril for the sake of profits. You know the names-- the men who ruined the lives of Page, Meldrick Taylor, and Riddick Bowe, put others at risk by licensing Tommy Morrison, and so many others with so many stories who no longer belonged in the ring.

I couldn’t help but think about this last week as Juan Manuel Lopez beat the bejabbers out of Gerry Penalosa, who fought bravely despite every possible disadvantage-- age, size, power, venue, crowd support, and mostly, skill. The HBO announcers, cognizant that Penalosa trainer Freddie Roach would soon have to decide to stop the carnage, noted that Penalosa was fighting just as Freddie once did.

So it occurred to me-- “Hey, doesn’t Roach have Parkinson’s?”