Hit Man - Brian Hughes [19]
It was around this time that many fans who were taking an interest in Hearns began asking why a stylish boxer who had scored only twelve stoppages in an amateur career of 155 wins in 163 bouts was suddenly knocking out his opponents. Steward was happy to answer. “As an amateur, Thomas was a super boxer. He would be up on his toes and he would jab, jab, jab, throw his right occasionally and dance away. I don’t think he ever threw a left hook.” Detroit-based reporters supported this viewpoint. As an amateur boxer, he had been compared to a young Cassius Clay, before his three-and-a-half-year exile. It was during the countless hours spent in the gym, under the tutelage of Steward, that he learned how to throw a left hook and use its leverage. Steward suggested that the power had always been there but he simply didn’t know how to use it. With Steward’s guidance an astonishing transformation was taking place. Thomas Hearns turned into one of the most chilling knockout punchers in the history of boxing.
Four weeks after his blowout of Bruce Curry, Hearns returned to action again and demonstrated his increasing awareness of how to utilise his punching power by stopping a trial-horse named Mao De La Rosa within a couple of rounds in Detroit. It was clear he was ready to step to the highest level.
5 THE CONMAN
THE WORLD OF professional boxing has always been dominated and controlled by a small number of rich, powerful promoters. The rules of the game are brutally simple. The power brokers want to tie up the outstanding fighters to long-term contracts under their promotional banner. Then they use these boxers as pawns in their negotiations with the television moguls, who pay the big money which maintains the status quo of rich, powerful promoters. Their modus operandi therefore tends to be consistent. They flatter and seduce young fighters, whispering in their ears and promising the moon. They persuade and cajole managers to sign exclusive agreements to their promotional banner and, once they have these, they are then in a position of strength to offer the fighter whatever they deem acceptable without having to compete on the open-market. Like bookmakers, it is rare to see a poor promoter.
When Thomas Hearns was climbing to the summit of the boxing mountain, the richest, most powerful promoters were Don King, Bob Arum and, in later years, the Duva family. Emanuel Steward knew how boxing politics worked and didn’t want Hearns to be tied down like the majority of the world champions and contenders. Ray Leonard, who maintained his own independence under the canny guidance of his lawyer, Mike Trainer, had proved that there could be exceptions to the rule, and Steward was keen to buck the trend too. The tournaments in which Hearns and the other Kronk fighters had appeared early in their careers were promoted by Steward’s friends. Although they offered great experience, the pay was meagre because they didn’t have television networks backing the shows.
However, as Hearns’s reputation continued to grow, Steward knew that he had to think bigger. He looked around to find the right promoter or organization for his team. In the late 1970s, one new company was blowing through the boxing scene like a breath of fresh air. Muhammad Ali Professional Sports (MAPS) bore the name of the great champion though he had little do with it, merely lending his name for a fee. The use of his name brought crucial credibility both with athletes and, more importantly, with the big TV network officials. MAPS was actually run by a flash, fast-living, thirty-seven-year-old entrepreneur named Harold Smith. Smith – whose real name was Ross Fields but who had used a number of aliases during his life – was an imposing character, a former track athlete who stood over six feet tall and wore a bushy beard. His customary attire was blue jeans, cotton workshirt, cowboy boots, a wide Stetson hat and gold-rimmed sunglasses.
When he first set up MAPS, Smith’s past was regarded as something of a mystery. In the 1960s, he had worked alongside