By Jim Cawkwell (photo credit to ESTO)

 

For every tale of courage and decency in boxing, there’s at least twice as many more of deceit and betrayal. Honor is a rare commodity in a world in which bonds are so easily broken for the correct price. Boxing is infested with so many moral malignancies that it is in danger of developing immunity to that which is honest and dignified. Relationships degenerate until financiers look at their fighters as whores with wares to be sold. Fighters train to defend against their opponents, yet are still so vulnerable to those businesspeople around them supposedly looking after their best interests, and the many methods of sharp practice used to relieve them of their earnings.

 

You’d expect Don King to step over a former charge and align himself with the victorious fighter, but fighters themselves, so often perceived as the sports downtrodden, are indeed capable of similar deeds. Jesse Reid transformed Lamon Brewster from journeyman to champion. That didn’t stop Brewster from firing Reid and citing God as his instructor. Brewster’s subsequent career death is proof indeed that the Lord works in mysterious ways.

 

The search for truth in boxing is long and often fruitless. Mainstream media neglect forced it onto the Internet, where it is maintained by a proliferation of enthusiastic amateurs whose opinions form the basis of future facts rarely questioned by fans that care not for the identities and sacrifices of fighters, only the excitement they provide. Under the arena lights, fighters are gladiators in thrilling exchanges; away from the glare of those same lights is a shadow cast by the boxing business in which the majority of the real drama of the sport stirs.

 

Unfathomably, the Internet boxing media spent much of the last year scrutinizing a working relationship between a particular fighter and his trainer/manager; though not one mired in discord, but one in which the participants display exactly the depth of loyalty absent throughout the sport.

 

Juan Manuel Marquez is a champion today in all but the eyes of a recognized sanctioning organization. He is an exceptional boxer, known as a terrific counter-puncher both fast and powerful. As his story continues to unfold, we do not know whether the history books will tell of his involvement in the majority of significant featherweight fights of his era; however, he will be remembered as an invaluable component of that era. Ignacio Beristain is the architect of his greatness.

 

It is a talent that arose in the shadows while boxing marveled at the smoke and mirrors of Naseem Hamed. But for the shameless evasions of the “Prince,” the featherweight division would have known a champion of substance instead of superficiality. When his contender-ship came undone at the hands of Freddie Norwood’s trickery, Marquez vowed never to leave a boxing ring without having given his all for victory. That promise holds to this day.

 

Nevermore evident was that commitment than on the night Marquez faced Manny Pacquiao. In becoming unified featherweight champion, Marquez dispatched the likes of Mexican veteran Manuel Medina and reluctant American Derrick Gainer as expected. Fresh from his mauling of Marco Antonio Barrera, Pacquiao represented a true challenge to Marquez’s championship credentials.

 

When two such fighters meet, what transpires between them adds perspective to all their past deeds. As Pacquiao launched into Marquez, driving him to the canvas three times in the very first round, one feared that Marquez had languished too long waiting for a fight worthy of his abilities. Between rounds, it felt as if the vanishing seconds were taking with them all that Marquez had finally achieved.

 

Sixty seconds isn’t much, but it’s often been more than enough to make an implacable warrior from a broken fighter.

 

Nigel Benn suffered a similar fate to Marquez the night he defended his super middleweight championship against Gerald McClellan, who came to destroy Benn, and got off to a fine start. Survival instinct and some charitable officiating from the French referee that night delivered Benn through a devastating first round and into the realm of legendary corner-man, Dennie Mancini. After seeing Benn battered throughout the round and sent through the ring ropes, Mancini’s response was not despair, but, “Fuckin’ ’ell Nige, you nearly ’ad ’im there!”

 

The bond of trust between Marquez and Beristain excluded the need for reverse psychology. The trainer understood his fighter’s capacity, and calmly directed the way in which the fight must be won. Who truly won is debatable; the excellence with which Marquez boxed is beyond question and endures as a testament to Beristain’s teachings.

 

Negotiations for a rematch gave recognition to Pacquiao’s explosiveness, but failed to honor Marquez’s masterful response, or his position as champion. Bob Arum may have been willing to accept such an insult, but Beristain could not.

 

It’s at this point that some of boxing’s real victims and the indifferent attitude towards their plight from the boxing public are revealed.

 

Trainers are amongst the most essential elements at work in boxing. They are the ones that bring the wayward kids in off the streets and instill respect and discipline. They have served the most time in this business, and put in the most work for the least reward. Their decades of expertise are cited as the foundation of a fighter’s brilliance when he wins, and disregarded the moment he loses.

 

There is a definite nonchalance towards these invaluable members of the boxing community, manifested in the current trend of the glamour trainer. Management teams, lacking the insight as to the importance of a fighter/trainer bond, use the trainer that has taught their fighter, helping him acquire status and credibility, and discard them for whichever big name trainer is getting results when the opportunity for big money arrives. This behavior is so commonplace throughout boxing that fans actually expect this switch to occur when fighters lose.

 

Of course, the object of the game is to make as much money as possible; fortunately, though, not everyone in boxing subscribes to the belief that selling out the only people that cared for and protected you is just an occupational hazard.

 

With the same confidence that recently saw former super flyweight champion Martin “El Gallo” Castillo venture to Japan to face seven-fight novice Nobuo Nashiro, Marquez took short money to clarify the matter of his WBA featherweight championship that Chris John never took from him in the ring. Where Castillo underestimated the threat of Nashiro to his ultimate cost, Marquez overestimated the aptitude of the officials in his case.

 

The subsequent backlash branded Beristain if not a fool for allowing his fighter to have succumbed to defeat for so little reward, then indeed a harmful influence as a manager. They did not understand that it was Marquez’ own desire to reclaim the title he never lost, and that Beristain acted in accordance with his fighter’s wishes.

 

Nor did the masses recognize the instances that led to Marquez being in a position of such gravity at all. Scathing exposés were not written about the neglect of Marquez from Arum while the likes of Erik Morales and Floyd Mayweather, Jr. received priority. The implosion of the Pacquiao rematch became a product of Beristain’s stubbornness, rather than the reality that Arum would not force the issue of a champion of Marquez’s caliber being paid his due.

 

There was no media outcry against the IBF’s preposterous move to strip Marquez of that championship, leaving him no option but to travel to Indonesia in order to retain some grasp on his world championship status. Nor have we seen any concern over the way in which the IBF title foundered through three different champions in successive fights, and none of them legitimate.

 

There are no grounds for a legendary figure such as Beristain to affirm his credentials to a pack of media minnows too short-sighted to understand his influence upon the very sport they have the luxury of covering. At a fancy, vindication for the man can be achieved in a single breath: Ricardo Lopez.

 

Whether as the gateway to success, or the barrier against adversity, Beristain is the one constant in Marquez’ career. Businessmen, whose loyalties are to themselves and the acquisition of monies, have tried to impose themselves into Marquez’s favor, failed, and predictably scolded Beristain’s influence in the press as the problem. They fail to comprehend that in this business there are still those whose consciences cannot be bought.

 

Beristain, as a father would guide his son, was there to see a young boy become a man, and that man become a champion. In turn, Marquez cannot bite the hand that steadied him through his tumultuous journey to the top. It is worrying that their example stands in contrast to their surroundings, but still comforting to know that whatever obstacles remain before them, whether they overcome them or falter, they will do so, defiant of exploitation through the greed of others.

 

They will fight on together.

 

Contact Jim Cawkwell at jimcawkwell@yahoo.co.uk