Fighting for your life in barbaric bouts

George Kimball/America At Large: Chuck and Stacy Young were paying customers when they decided to attend one of those "Toughman" competitions at the Sarasota County Fairgrounds Florida last Friday night and they got talked into entering themselves in the following evening's "championship" round, even though neither of them had ever boxed before. Chuck was knocked out in less than 30 seconds, making him the lucky one.

Although it became apparent moments after the opening bell that Stacy's opponent had some experience at this, the 30-year-old mother of four managed to last well into the third and final round before collapsing. Shortly after the conclusion of the renegade bout, she began to complain that her head and neck hurt.

Stacy was transported by ambulance to the Bayfront Medical Centre in St Petersburg. By the time she was admitted she had lapsed into a "vegetative state". Two nights later, after she was removed from a respirator, her brain ceased to function. When she was pronounced dead at 6:30 p.m. on Monday she became the 13th fatality in the 24-year history of Toughman brawls - and the fourth in the past 10 months.

"It was supposed to be fun," lamented Chuck Young. "They tell us nobody's going to get hurt, that the worst that could happen was you might get a broken nose."

Alvin Entin, the chairman of the Florida Boxing Commission, begged to differ: "It's not 'harmless fun', and, candidly, it's pretty stupid," said Entin. "It's quasi-barbaric - and it's unacceptable for this type of tragedy to occur."

The problem is that according to the laws of most states, including Florida, Toughman competitions do not, technically, constitute boxing, and are hence beyond the purview of local commissions. Art Dore, the sleazoid Michigan entrepreneur who stumbled upon this loophole in the law 24 years ago, has staged his unregulated exhibitions in 40 States, in most cases staying one step ahead of the law.

Sarasota police, who hope to find grounds to prosecute, have opened their own investigation into the events of the weekend. Although Dore had obtained waivers of liability from the Youngs, his own guidelines require an attending physician to be on site and there was none. The promoter said there was a "physician's assistant" at ringside, but blamed his minions for the absence of a bona fide doctor.

Dore announced on Tuesday he would temporarily suspend operations while conducting an internal investigation of the events leading to Stacy Young's death.

Last month the Detroit News published the results of an inquiry into the whole Toughman scam, which revealed 12 ring deaths and five "devastating" brain injuries, the events had proven four times deadlier than the rate of sanctioned amateur boxing matches over the same time span.

Although not normally considered a proving ground for prospective professional boxers, Toughman has spawned its share of successful graduates. The heavyweight Tommy Morrison, who was forced to retire from the ring after testing positive for the HIV virus, cut his boxing teeth in Toughman events, as did Greg Haugen, the former International Boxing Federation lightweight champion.

Toughman's greatest success story, however, remains the almost legendary Eric "Butterbean" Esch, who parlayed his Toughman success into a lucrative career as a sideshow heavyweight.

For each of Butterbean's 71 professional bouts, incidentally, his corner was worked by his manager/promoter, Art Dore, along with his trainer Murray Sutherland, the Scottish-born former super-middleweight champion who has spent the past two decades working for Dore.

Butterbean earned millions, in the ring, but most Toughman contestants don't fare so well. Take the case of Scott Wood, a 31-year-old ex-Marine who fought against a 330-pound opponent in January in Michigan. Wood attempted to give up at least twice in his match, but was urged to continue by the referee and his Dore-appointed "cornermen". He lapsed into a coma after the fight and died 20 days later. A Michigan judge subsequently issued a ruling requiring Dore to provide medical and hospitalisation insurance for Toughman competitors in that State. Dore's response has been not to run any more events in Michigan.

Michael Kuhn was a 26-year-old father of two when he fought in a Toughman event in College Station, Texas last fall. Blood vessels connecting his brain and skull were severed during his bout. He died five days later.

Art Liggins was 44 years old when he fought in a Toughman bout in Idaho last September. He was knocked out in the first round. His mother, a nurse, tried, unsuccessfully, to revive him. The "attending physician" was a chiropractor.

The list goes on.

Toughman contestants are not generally recruited at ringside. More often they sign up at the local saloon. There is no medical insurance, no pay, and beyond bragging rights and glory, the only purse at stake is usually a trophy or a gaudy satin jacket proclaiming the winner the "baddest man in town". To enter a Toughman competition a prospective contestant one requires two things: (a) the entry fee, usually $50, and (b) a pulse.

Since neither the fighters, the referees, or the ringside physicians (if there is one) need to be licensed by a boxing commission, the "sport" is essentially unregulated. The only governing body for Toughman events is something called the "American Boxing and Athletic Association", which operates out of Dore's Bay City, Michigan home, and lists no board of directors or staff, other than the founder and president of what has laughably been chartered as a "non-profit" organisation - Arthur P Dore.