Boxer on the ropes over drug allegation

BOXING: As excuses go in the modern-day sporting world it has become the equivalent of "the dog ate my homework

BOXING: As excuses go in the modern-day sporting world it has become the equivalent of "the dog ate my homework." Regardless of his chosen discipline, you can almost take it for granted that when an athlete tests positive for performance-enhancing drugs, he (or she) is going to blame the result on an over-the-counter supplement he picked up at the local health-food store.

And, that failing, the next reflex action will be to claim that the testing procedure itself was flawed.

Which route Fernando Vargas will travel remains to be learned.

Officially put on notice via a formal complaint filed by the Nevada State Athletic Commission last Friday, the former world light-middleweight champion has 20 days from that date to respond to allegations that a post-fight urine analysis following last month's loss to Oscar De La Hoya had revealed the presence of Stanazolol - the same anabolic steroid which proved the undoing of Ben Johnson at the 1988 Seoul Olympics.

READ MORE

The charge was hardly startling to anyone who watched the September 13th unification bout between the two 154lb champions. Once the two boxers removed their robes the contrast in physiques was apparent: Vargas was, as they say around the health clubs, "ripped," and while the official weight differential was no more than a few ounces, the 24 year-old Vargas appeared far the larger of the two.

And from the opening bell he used his strength to his advantage.

Swarming into De La Hoya, Vargas surprised him in the early going, driving him straight back into the ropes with a fusillade that could well have been (though it wasn't) counted as a knockdown.

After being smacked around in the early going, a bloodied De La Hoya battled his way back into the fray with a body attack, and had already drawn even (he was actually leading on two scorecards) by the 10th, when he drilled Vargas with a left hook that spun him around in his tracks.

Saved by the arrival of the bell, Vargas staggered back to his corner, but his handlers failed to revive him between rounds. When the bell signalled the opening of the 11th, De La Hoya belted him all over the ring, landing 15 unanswered punches in succession before referee Joe Cortez took Vargas into protective custody.

Vargas, who had suffered an orbital bone fracture from the pivotal 10th-round punch, was taken to a hospital that night, and did not appear at a post-fight press conference. Days later word leaked out of the positive test, and following a period of meticulous evidence-gathering, the formal complaint was filed last week.

The steroid revelations didn't exactly astonish the boxing community.

In fact, they seemed to explain what many people thought they had seen in the first place.

"If you notice, Vargas got tired there against De La Hoya," 1988 US Olympic boxing coach Kenny Adams told MaxBoxing's Steve Kim last week. "He got bulked up, and he couldn't handle that weight. That's what the problem was. They (the steroids) slowed him down."

There had been enough whispers about Vargas's weight-based training methods to prompt extra scrutiny going into the much-ballyhooed fight between the Mexican-American Californians. Fully two and a half months before the fight - on July 1st of this year - both camps were put on notice and reminded that they would be tested.

"Please assist the commission by informing your fighters of the foregoing," concluded the warning notice. "Moreover, please remind them that they must notify the commission of any and all drugs, stimulants, injections, supplements, and medications they are taking before they compete."

WHAT makes L'Affaire Vargas so astonishing is the apparently brazen manner in which this commission directive was roundly ignored. Most cheating athletes at the very least attempt to stay one step ahead of the law, whether by sophisticated methods of eluding detection (several years ago one former world champion successfully confounded the Nevada authorities when, although testing negative for steroids, showed testosterone levels fifteen times greater than any boxer had previously registered) or by more basic emergency procedures. Vargas, however, was caught using a substance that would have been detected (and was, in Ben Johnson's case) a decade and a half ago, when steroid testing was still in its rudimentary stages.

Moreover, the usual defences are unlikely to gain much sympathy at a full hearing. An oil-based steroid, Stanazolol is taken either by injection or by oral consumption, in copious quantities. It would be virtually impossible to take by accident.

Ironically, Dr Edwin (Flip) Homansky, the long-time dean of American ringside physicians more recently appointed a member of the five-man Nevada Commission, dealt with this very subject six months ago in an essay for the British-based boxing website Secondsout.com.

"I constantly hear 'Steroids don't work, and even if they did, they wouldn't be used in boxing,'" wrote Homansky at the time. "We think of the weightlifter or the interior lineman in football as a typical user. They need the extra bulk and necessary speed. Some think that only a boxer moving up or a heavyweight would possibly try them. The assumption is that anabolic steroids would make a boxer muscle-bound and slow.

"Well, think again! Steroids do work," noted Homansky. "Could they be used to a boxer's advantage and should they be allowed? The answer is 'Yes,' they could be used in our sport, and 'No', they must not be allowed."

Well in advance of the De La Hoya-Vargas fight, Homansky said last week: "We explained the dangers to both of these fighters and told them they must stop." As precedents go, this might not be much of one, but this past summer the NSAC ruled in the case of Josh Barnett, a participant in one of those silly "Ultimate Fighting" championships who tested positive for a banned substance. Barnett was modestly fined and suspended for six months.

Vargas, who earned $6 million in losing to De La Hoya, is unlikely to get off so lightly. "The punishment," promised Homansky, "will be significant."