AMERICA AT LARGE:If the name of the referee becomes part of a fight story, it's usually for the wrong reasons, writes GEORGE KIMBALL

BOXING OFFICIALS can be like the rest of us in that they sometimes feel their work is under-appreciated. I couldn’t tell you how many times over the years a referee or a judge has said to me, “Remember, my name is spelled . . .”

As I usually remind these guys, if the name of the referee or a judge becomes an important part of a fight story, it’s usually for all the wrong reasons. An official who has competently performed his duties is unlikely to be singled out for attention, for instance, but a judge who returns a lopsided scorecard for a guy on the short end of a split decision probably will get his name in the paper, as will a referee when a controversial ruling (was that a slip or a knockdown?) might have tipped the balance in a close fight.

If Johnny Callas subscribes to a clipping service, it’s been kept very busy for the last several days, as the Connecticut referee has been excoriated in the pages of pretty much every newspaper, boxing website and magazine in the country for his handing of the Alfredo Angulo-Harry Joe Yorgey fight in Hartford.

A boxing referee is charged with only two essential responsibilities: to enforce the rules, and to ensure the safety of the combatants.

Last Saturday night in Hartford, Callas did neither. He was working just the second title fight of his 11-year career, and he’s lucky he didn’t get a man killed.

Granted, this match should never have been allowed to happen. That Angulo was fighting Yorgey at all, let alone for a title, you can blame on HBO, and to a lesser degree, the World Boxing Organisation (WBO).

Cunning matchmaking can be an illusory process. A bout between a fighter with a 16-1 record and another who is 22-0-1 might look good on paper, even though it may be, as this one was, a total mismatch.

Angulo, who answers to the nickname “Perro”, or Dog, represented Mexico in the Athens Olympics, had climbed rapidly through the professional ranks against increasingly tough competition, knocking out 14 of his first 16 opponents before losing, on points, to former world champion Kermit Cintron in May. In his one fight since, he had knocked out a guy, Gilbert Rosado, who had never been knocked out before.

Yorgey, a full-time construction worker and part-time boxer, had gained something of a following while boxing almost exclusively on small club shows in his native Pennsylvania. After 20 wins he even got a television date last year. Matched against another unbeaten fighter with a equally illusory record, he eked out a majority decision. That, in turn, won him the opponent’s role on a March HBO card, against Ronald Hearns.

Hearns resembles his father, Thomas, in all save two respects: he can’t punch, and he can’t take one, facts well known to most of the boxing world, with the exception of John Duddy’s new management team, which had pulled the Derryman out of a January date with Hearns.

Harry Joe knocked out Hearns, and HBO, having televised the upset, brought him back for an encore, this time against Angulo on an undercard last weekend.

Although this a fight could end only one way, the network built it up as if it were the second coming of Robinson-LaMotta. Even Yorgey got caught up in the hype, and hired Kelly Pavlik’s trainer, Jack Lowe, to be his chief second.

A week or so before the bout, Yorgey’s promoter, Art Pelullo, asked the WBO to approve Angulo-Yorgey as a title fight. Although the organisation already had not only a 154lb champion (Sergei Dzinziruk, who hasn’t fought in over a year), but an interim champion (Paul Williams), the WBO, in return for a sanctioning fee, agreed to strip Williams and put the vacant belt on offer to the Angulo-Yorgey winner.

Callas is a West Hartford resident and has been refereeing since 1998. But the sum of his experience in world title fights came two years ago when he worked Chad Dawson’s homecoming against Jesus Ruiz in his first bout after winning the light-heavyweight title. Callas is licensed to practice in Connecticut and New York, and we’d seen him work several times before in both jurisdictions.

Although he didn’t do much damage, Yorgey boxed well enough to carry the first round on the cards of all three judges. But even over the last minute of the opening stanza Angulo landed a few hard punches that didn’t bode well for Harry Joe’s chances.

In the second, Angulo hurt him with a hard right. Yorgey backed into his corner, where Angulo hammered him to the floor with a series of punches, at least two of which landed on the top of his head after he was down. Lowe, in the corner, howled about the foul, but was ignored by the referee.

When Callas allowed action to resume, Angulo landed another right, and when Yorgey responded by turning his back and fleeing in the direction of his corner, Angulo hit him again, this time on the back of his departing head.

Rather than rule one way or the other, Callas attempted to intervene by breaking them, and as he shoved Yorgey away, the wounded man’s legs splayed and he nearly fell down. This was seen by everyone in the arena and millions more on television, but not by the referee, whose vacant stare bore the unmistakable look of a man who’d rather have been almost anywhere else.

The bout could easily have been stopped right there, but Yorgey miraculously made it to the bell, and Callas, having made no attempt to visit the corner to check on Yorgey’s condition between rounds, allowed the third to commence.

With another hard shot from Angulo, Yorgey pitched forward and kept himself from hitting the canvas face-first only by throwing his arms around Angulo’s neck. By now not only the spectators, but both corners, were pleading for the referee to stop it.

Since Angulo was staggering around trying to free himself from 153lb of deadweight hanging from his neck, this clearly should have been ruled a knockdown, but Callas was in total meltdown. He pried Yorgey loose and let them go at it again.

Yorgey was swaying in place, his hands down, when Angulo landed the solid left-right combination that knocked Yorgey cold. A frightening several minutes ensued while EMTs hovered over his inert form, and the stretcher was in the ring well before he regained consciousness.

He was transported to hospital, where, to what we must assume was Callas’ enormous relief, a brain scan revealed no apparent permanent damage.

Even the Angulo partisans were livid over the referee’s performance.

“He could have gotten Yorgey killed,” fumed the winner’s promoter, Gary Shaw. “This brave young man took a beating he should never have had to take.”

A few minutes afterward I ran into one of Callas’ colleagues outside the arena.

“He just froze,” said the official. “I’ve seen him work before and never seen anything like this. It was like watching a man have a panic attack.”

Those chronicling the proceedings have been less kind. Johnny Callas has been eviscerated from coast to coast. Some believe he should be suspended. Others have reasonably argued he should never be allowed referee again.

But the reports had one thing in common. They all spelled his name right.