A Rank System

It is boxing’s worst-kept secret.

Forget the furor over judging that arose from the draw between Evander Holyfield and Lennox Lewis. Forget the stereotype of the fighter taking a dive.

People in and around the sport say the real corruption occurs far from the ring and long before any fight, when boxers are ranked in each weight division.

Rankings are like gold because they determine which fighters get big-money bouts and which get left out in the cold. These decisions are the business of the three major sanctioning bodies: the World Boxing Assn., World Boxing Council and International Boxing Federation.

“It’s just a common belief in the boxing world that rankings are bought and sold,” said Larry Merchant, a television analyst for HBO. “They’re totally shameless, these people. Their livelihoods rely on the money they bring in.”

The sanctioning bodies denied improprieties after an investigation by The Times unearthed allegations of widespread abuse. A manager says he had to pay to get his boxers ranked. Major promoters and their underlings say they funneled hundreds of thousands of dollars to the WBA, WBC and IBF.

The alleged payments have recently come under investigation by legislators and a federal grand jury in Newark, N.J. Witnesses summoned before the grand jury told The Times they testified that some payments were made in cash but that others were more subtle, hidden in overpayments of standard fees.

The sanctioning bodies themselves have confirmed that promoters paid for their annual conventions.

“They don’t just take money under the table,” said Bert Sugar, a noted boxing historian. “They take it around the table, over the table and sometimes they take the table too.”

Manager’s Tale

Ron Weathers, a manager in Texas, is among the fighters, managers, promoters and officials subpoenaed by the grand jury in New Jersey. He said he testified about dealing with the sanctioning bodies.

“It’s just common knowledge that if you want to get something done, you have got to grease their palms,” Weathers said. “Either $10,000 or $20,000, depending on where you want the guy rated.”

In a sport noted for its bravery, insiders are quick to say corruption exists but hesitant to admit their own culpability. Weathers admitted to making numerous payments.

“Obviously, it’s an all-cash transaction,” he said.

In one instance, a 32-year-old heavyweight he managed, the long-struggling Joe Hipp, rose through the rankings and got a 1995 title shot against WBA champion Bruce Seldon. Hipp lost on a TKO in the 10th round.

When contacted by The Times, officials from the WBC and WBA denied accepting improper payments. IBF President Bob Lee, who has drawn particular attention from the grand jury, meeting not far from his East Orange, N.J., office, declined to comment, on the advice of his attorney.

Allegations leveled at the sanctioning bodies are simply a fad, said promoter Don King, who recently testified before a New York state Senate committee investigating corruption in boxing.

“These are all devious things, categorical lies,” King said. “They are trying to give the perception of impropriety in these organizations because it is the popular thing to do now, after Holyfield-Lewis.”

But rival promoter Bob Arum said that as far back as 1983 he paid $500,000 to a Puerto Rican promoter whom Arum described as “a bagman” for the WBA. The payment was made to get a title fight for lightweight Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini, Arum said. The Puerto Rican promoter has denied the accusation to Ring magazine.

“That was the only way you could do business in those days,” Arum said. “Now, if it looks like it has to be done, I try to stay away.”

King insisted he has always followed the sanctioning bodies’ rules and regulations. But the flamboyant promoter’s former accountant, Joseph Maffia, said that fees paid to the WBA, WBC and IBF often included kickbacks.

“There were overpayments of sanctioning fees by hundreds of thousands of dollars in [Mike] Tyson fights,” said Maffia, who, according to the Associated Press, made the same allegation in a 1992 affidavit filed with New Jersey state officials.

Another former employee of King, Scott Woodworth, also told The Times about payments. King argued that his accusers have axes to grind.

Maffia, who left Don King Productions in 1991, testified against his former boss in a 1995 insurance fraud trial. King was acquitted of those charges. Woodworth sued his former boss in 1997 and now works for rival Arum.

“What did you do, get my enemies list?” King asked. “It’s all jealousy and envy. Because they can’t compete with me, they try to condemn and destroy me.”

Jose Sulaiman, president of the WBC, was equally dismissive of the claims against his organization.

“These are absolute lies and these are not people you should pay attention to . . . they only want to be in the papers,” Sulaiman said. “I have never, ever, received anything from anybody in return for anything.”

But Weathers, who has advised heavyweight George Foreman for many years, painted a different picture for the federal grand jury.

“They don’t call you up and openly solicit you,” he told The Times. “You have to approach them.”

Weathers would not give The Times specific dates and amounts, saying federal authorities had asked him not to divulge his testimony. But he said many of the alleged payments occurred at conventions that the WBA, WBC and IBF hold each year.

“Everybody came with bags of money,” he said. “They tell you who to pay. You hand them the money.”

Television’s Influence

Rankings have become so valuable because of multimillion-dollar pay-per-view telecasts.

“Television wants rankings so Cecil can tell Ethel, ‘I can’t come to the dinner table because it’s a big fight,’ ” boxing writer Sugar explained. “He doesn’t know who’s fighting but it’s a big fight.”

This advertising ploy befits boxing’s structure, or lack thereof. The sanctioning bodies operate from different countries: the WBA from Venezuela, the WBC from Mexico and the IBF from the U.S. They compete for top fights and rarely agree on rankings.

So boxing is a free-market free-for-all.

“That’s because the events are entrepreneurial, because there are no leagues,” HBO television announcer Jim Lampley said. “Promoters and managers sit down and simply decide, ‘This is good business.’ ”

Close relationships develop between the sanctioning bodies and the promoters and managers who are jockeying to get the big-money bouts.

The interaction does not always involve alleged payments.

Each December, for example, Don King had WBA President Gilberto Mendoza, Sulaiman of the WBC and Lee of the IBF stay at his home in Delray Beach, Fla., said Woodworth and another former King employee, Mike Marley.

A WBA executive confirmed that Mendoza has been to King’s home, but only because Mendoza owns a house nearby. Sulaiman of the WBC denied ever making an extended visit.

“Please tell them I’m a fat person with a big nose and they might be confusing me with someone else,” Sulaiman said. “I don’t know Delray. I have never stayed at Don King’s house.”

King said, “Every Christmas, everybody gets invited to my big Christmas party.”

On other occasions, Woodworth said, a King lieutenant named Dana Jamison met at a Miami restaurant with WBA executive Bolivar Icaza.

According to Woodworth, Jamison suggested to Icaza which fighters to move up in the rankings and which fighters, usually represented by rival promoters, to move down.

“She would start circling names,” Woodworth said. “Next month, when the ratings came out, that’s the way it would be.”

Icaza, reached by telephone in Panama, denied having lunch with Jamison or letting her dictate the rankings. Jamison refused to comment.

“In boxing, just like politics, you lobby,” King said on her behalf. “I lobby for fighters. Scott Woodworth and Mike Marley lobby for fighters.

“Marley is a great lobbyist. He lobbied for a fighter who was so bad that the only good thing about him was that you could sell advertising on the bottom of his shoes.”

With promoters so eager to gain influence, the sanctioning bodies have made a practice of soliciting money for their annual conventions.

In 1991, promoter Cedric Kushner underwrote a portion of the IBF convention in New Orleans, providing meals and steamboat rides up the Mississippi.

“It’s just something that everyone does,” Kushner said. “That’s not a case of expecting favors.”

Five years later, King paid for the IBF convention in Toronto, former employees Woodworth and Marley said.

King allegedly also paid for the trophies that were awarded at the convention and demanded that his personal driver be honored. When the IBF said it had no category for “best chauffeur,” Woodworth and Marley said they heard King tell an IBF official, “Well, then, make one up.”

King denied these allegations but admitted to helping pay for numerous conventions.

“I contribute to the conventions the same as I contribute to the Democratic convention for Bill Clinton, the same as I contribute to the Republican convention for Bob Dole,” he said.

“I look at [boxing’s sanctioning bodies] as governmental bodies. If you want to play, you’ve got to pay.”

Marley said, “That’s not illegal. But it makes things a little cozy, don’t you think?”

The boxing community seems wearily accustomed to this way of business. John Davimos, a Los Angeles manager, said.

“If people are corruptible, someone’s going to corrupt them.”

Yet it was Davimos who helped start a chain reaction that has brought hope for a change.

Fighting Back

The chain reaction began in 1995 with a shake-up in the IBF’s heavyweight division.

The top two contenders left the IBF to fight for the WBA title. So No. 3 Michael Moorer, a Davimos fighter, expected to get a shot at champion George Foreman’s title. But, according to an affidavit filed in an ensuing lawsuit, Don King called HBO and predicted that one of his fighters, No. 4 Francois Botha, would jump over Moorer in the rankings.

“This is, in fact, what occurred,” Seth Abraham, who oversees HBO sports programming, said in the 1995 affidavit. “Frans Botha was jumped over Michael Moorer in the IBF rankings and became the No. 1 contender.

“I recognize that there is subjectivity in the rankings,” Abraham continued. “[But] it is my opinion that Frans Botha, based upon his record and ability, should not now be ranked in the top 10 of heavyweights. To date, he has never even fought a current top-10 contender.”

In his lawsuit, filed in U.S. District Court in New Jersey, Moorer claimed his ranking suffered “as a result of bribes.” The IBF filed papers denying that claim, but the suit was settled and Moorer got his shot at the title.

Two years later, a similar case arose between heavyweight Orlin Norris and the WBA.

As the No. 2-ranked contender, Norris figured to be in line for a title shot against the WBA champion, Bruce Seldon. In the meantime, King offered him a contract to fight former champion Tyson.

Norris’ manager, Woodworth, who was also working for Don King Productions, did not like the terms of the Tyson deal.

“King’s putting a gun to our head to sign this bogus contract,” he says he told Norris. “There’s no hurry.”

When the contract was returned unsigned, King allegedly became angry.

“Give it couple of months and we will watch Orlin disappear from the ratings,” he threatened, according to court records from an ensuing civil case.

Norris was unbeaten in four previous fights but slipped from No. 2 to No. 6. Woodworth took his complaint to the U.S. District Court in Pennsylvania.

“We were fading quick,” Woodworth said. “I knew that if I didn’t file a lawsuit, we might not exist anymore.”

The WBA denied that King had undue influence over its rankings but, in a late 1997 settlement, gave Norris an elimination bout, the winner to become the mandatory challenger for the title. Meanwhile, federal investigators in New Jersey--reportedly prompted by the Moorer suit--had begun their boxing probe.

Villains or Scapegoats?

No one openly condones improper payments by managers and promoters but the cries for reform in boxing have, for the most part, been directed at the sanctioning bodies. Critics say they have created a system that encourages dishonesty.

The organizations argue that they have been made scapegoats.

“To me, this is all rumor,” Alberto Sarmiento, a WBA executive, said. “It’s trying to find five legs on a cat with four legs.”

King concurred: “They are chasing ghosts and apparitions. They are trying to denigrate and disparage. They tell their lies and put their spin on it, trying to pour gasoline on fire.”

Sulaiman of the WBC conceded, “There’s too much greed in the world. Why are there so many organizations? Because if a promoter does not receive what he wants, he goes to someone else.”

Some critics hope indictments from the federal grand jury in New Jersey will initiate reform. Others have put their faith in the government.

The New York state Senate committee began its investigation in the wake of the Holyfield-Lewis fight.

In Washington, a Senate subcommittee recently approved the proposed Muhammad Ali Boxing Reform Act, which, in part, seeks to create “objective and consistent written criteria” for rankings.

But boxing insiders say that only the cable networks, with the millions they pour into the sport, have the power to demand more reliable rankings.

“If the money players get into the game, that’s the best shot,” manager Davimos said. “HBO and Showtime could come together and say, ‘We’re not going to back fights by these organizations unless they form a legitimate [rankings] committee.’ ”

Weathers was less diplomatic. Reached by telephone at a hotel on the Caribbean island of Anguilla, the long-time manager could not imagine a bright future for boxing that includes the sanctioning bodies.

“They’ve taken so much out of the sport,” he said. “They need to be totally destroyed. . . . Then we could turn this sport around and take it back from the Dark Ages.”