MMA 'Grass Roots' Article
Feb 28, 2007 20:43:36 GMT -5
Post by LWPD on Feb 28, 2007 20:43:36 GMT -5
Here's an interesting article comparing the current 'grass roots' issues of boxing and MMA. A fairly informative read.
Courtesy of Cleveland Plain Dealer
Mixed Martial Arts Knocks Out Boxing
Young males embrace Ultimate Fighting
By Joe Maxse
Where has all the boxing gone?
What was once one of this country's mainstream sports is now most often buried in the back of sports pages.
Just look at Cleveland. Three recent shows sum up the state of boxing in this town:
Promoters reduced a Dec. 9 professional card at Public Hall to all of three bouts, mismatches at that. The crowd of about 400 received refunds.
A week later, the national amateur championship qualifier at the Salvation Army Boxing Academy on Hough Avenue produced eight entries and three matches.
On Feb. 10, a women's title bout featuring Northfield's Vonda Ward headlined a pro show at Cleveland State's Wolstein Center. Four men's undercard matches ranged from less-than-mediocre to ridiculous.
A different scene will unfold Saturday at Nationwide Arena in Columbus.
The Las Vegas-based Ultimate Fighting Championships will showcase its brand of mixed martial arts matches in "UFC 68."
The event will take place in front of a sold-out crowd of 15,000 and produce a state-record gate approaching $2.7 million. The pay-per-view television buys will fetch millions more.
The monthly UFC mixed martial arts shows - featuring punching, kicking, martial arts and wrestling in a fenced-in octagon, with pounding rock music and video to boot - have become the rage, especially among males 18-35.
In 2003, UFC got a huge boost with the addition of the "Ultimate Fighter" reality show on cable's Spike TV, with an estimated 2.2 million viewers tuning in. One night last fall, an ultimate fighting show drew more young male TV viewers than a Major League Baseball playoff game. The UFC pushes the Internet and feel-good glitz, with competitors appealing to a suburban crowd that is into physical fitness and martial arts.
"More people are involved and watching [UFC] on TV," said Marcus Marinelli, who trains mixed martial arts fighters at Strong Style Martial Arts and Training Center in Independence. "People are looking for entertainment.
"I think boxing is in trouble. They are the last converts."
Boxing remains a city game. Most boxers come from poorer backgrounds, and it has been that way since the days of Irish, Italian and Jewish immigrants, now giving way to blacks and Latinos.
Fewer boxing promoters are putting on small "club shows," the training ground for would-be champions, because there is little money to be made at that developmental level. So would-be fighters have little incentive to stay in the gym.
USA Boxing's Lake Erie Association, which ranges from Youngstown to Lorain and Cleveland to Mansfield, had registered 268 athletes in 2006. According to association president Clytee Dunn, that is about half the registrants from 10 years ago.
Two years ago, the historic Cleveland Golden Gloves tournament was nearly canceled for lack of entries. This year's Golden Gloves are April 13.
"You can't put your finger on one thing," said Dunn, who has been involved with Cleveland amateur boxing for 40 years. "Kids are going to make decisions, and sometimes they make the wrong ones. Some guys can't give up the street corruption.
"Kids are loyal to the program up to 14 or 15. Then they get girlfriends and don't come to the gym."
Joe Delguyd, a Cleveland lawyer, helps run the Old School Boxing Club on Perkins Avenue and East 36th Street. On any given night, 20 to 30 fighters go through the age-old rituals of skipping rope and rapping the speed bag. They are strictly boxers, amateurs and pros, staying in shape in case a bout should come along.
According to Delguyd, it costs between $35,000 and $40,000 to maintain the converted warehouse, with the winter's heating bill eating up a big chunk. He said money from a county anti-crime grant ran out in 2005, and that he is in the process of securing federal money.
"We're talent-rich, but not rich in numbers," said Delguyd. "We've got a nice big gym that's well equipped to hold the kids' interest. I'm almost at a loss to explain it. We just don't have enough shows."
And the emergence of UFC-style mixed martial arts fighting has given would-be boxers another option.
"It's a different sport catering to a different crowd," Delguyd said. "We're in the inner city, and a lot of our kids, I can't even get myself to charge them dues. The [martial arts] guys pay for classes."
On a recent night at Strong Style, located in a former tile warehouse just west of I-77 in Independence, nearly 50 guys went through mixed martial arts workouts.
Boxing equipment was available, including nine heavy bags and a small ring, but so was a large matted area and an octagonal ring. Karate kicks slammed into the bags and head-geared battlers practiced wrestling-style holds and takedowns on the mat.
On Saturday in Columbus, 26-year-old Jason Dent will make his second UFC national appearance when he takes on Gleason Tibau, a black belt from Brazil. Dent runs the Griffonrawl Thai Boxing and Mixed Martial Arts Academy in Mentor and occasionally trains at Strong Style.
"I would have liked to [box], but there were no local gyms," said Dent, who attended Ledgemont High in Geauga County and is considered a lightweight in UFC at 155 pounds. "I've never been knocked out. To me it's more natural to put a knee to the head. It's not a street fight, but it's raw. There are so many ways to win."
When mixed martial arts fighting started to gain popularity in the early 1990s, U.S. Sen. John McCain compared it to "human cock fighting." Rules were skimpy at best, weight classes did not exist, and opponents commonly stomped on their opponents and kicked them in the groin. Most states were not prepared to handle this "anything goes" fighting, and many banned it.
The Ohio Athletic Commission, which regulates professional boxing, was cautious when mixed martial arts fighting was proposed here in the late 1990s. Gradually, the commission realized that these "renegade" shows were taking place and sought to bring them under its jurisdiction.
It has paid off. In 2005, there were 40 licensed mixed martial arts shows in Ohio, compared to 25 boxing shows. Last year, the count was 80-24.
The commission collects a 5 percent tax on the gate and stands to make $135,000 off Saturday's UFC show in Columbus. Last year's entire tax receipts for the commission totaled just under $188,000.
The commission's largest boxing collection: $12,100 from a 2001 Don King-promoted affair in Cincinnati.
OAC Executive Director Bernie Profato said he is proud Ohio has been in the forefront in developing mixed martial arts fighting rules.
"I totally come from a boxing background," said Profato. "But I studied [mixed martial arts]. I didn't run from it. The first thing was to control it and stop these renegade shows. You didn't want somebody to get seriously hurt or killed on your watch.
Tom Vacca grew up in Cleveland and has been involved in boxing for 30 years. As a matchmaker and promoter, he worked for years in Michigan putting on shows at The Palace of Auburn Hills and in Detroit with the famous Kronk Gym.
Until health problems two years ago, he was Cleveland's most prolific pro boxing promoter. Call him old school, but UFC-style fighting does not sit right with him.
Marinelli, the owner of Strong Style, had a response to Vacca's challenge: "Bring it on."
Marinelli pointed out numerous injuries suffered by mixed martial arts competitors. One of the most well-known was a 2000 match in Japan between Kazushi Sakuraba and Renzo Gracie, a member of the most revered family in mixed martial arts fighting. Gracie said afterward that he saw his arm ligaments tearing one by one and knew Sakuraba was breaking his arm, but he preferred to let that happen and retain his pride instead of "tapping out," or quitting.
That kind of drama is one reason UFC plays well with young males. Tim Lueckenhoff, president of the Association of Boxing Commissions, a coalition of the country's state commissions, says boxing has to fight back.
"Boxing has to draw a younger audience, and I don't know how they are going to do it," said Lueckenhoff. "What kills boxing now is that the two best fighters can't get together because organizations have to protect their turf. Everybody is trying to make money and not get hurt."
Boxing expert becomes a convert
Not many people know the ins and outs of both sports like Marc Ratner does.
Ratner had been with the Nevada State Athletic Commission for 22 years, the last 14 as its executive director, and oversaw many of the most famous and infamous boxing matches.
He left the commission in May to become a UFC vice president, giving the sport an instant boost of credibility.
"Look around all your cities and suburbs, you see these karate or martial arts studios," said Ratner. "There is a lot less pain [than boxing]. UFC has become a total event experience. Very few [bouts] go to a decision, and the 18-35 year-old demographic like the action."
Boxing still has a beating pulse. It did in November when Youngstown's favorite middleweight, rising star Kelly Pavlik drew more than 4,000 hometown fans and a gate of $142,200. It will May 5, when Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather Jr. square off in Las Vegas.
Still, boxing now only seems to come to life when the two right guys are in the ring.
In UFC, the two right guys seem to be in the ring just about every month.
Ratner said that at a major boxing match, the seats gradually fill up as the main event approaches. At UFC, an arena is two-thirds full for the first bout.
"Boxing is still one of the most glorious sports when the right guys are in there," Ratner said. "But it's got to get itself together at the grass roots. If people don't know who the heavyweight champ is, you are in trouble."
Courtesy of Cleveland Plain Dealer
Mixed Martial Arts Knocks Out Boxing
Young males embrace Ultimate Fighting
By Joe Maxse
Where has all the boxing gone?
What was once one of this country's mainstream sports is now most often buried in the back of sports pages.
Just look at Cleveland. Three recent shows sum up the state of boxing in this town:
Promoters reduced a Dec. 9 professional card at Public Hall to all of three bouts, mismatches at that. The crowd of about 400 received refunds.
A week later, the national amateur championship qualifier at the Salvation Army Boxing Academy on Hough Avenue produced eight entries and three matches.
On Feb. 10, a women's title bout featuring Northfield's Vonda Ward headlined a pro show at Cleveland State's Wolstein Center. Four men's undercard matches ranged from less-than-mediocre to ridiculous.
A different scene will unfold Saturday at Nationwide Arena in Columbus.
The Las Vegas-based Ultimate Fighting Championships will showcase its brand of mixed martial arts matches in "UFC 68."
The event will take place in front of a sold-out crowd of 15,000 and produce a state-record gate approaching $2.7 million. The pay-per-view television buys will fetch millions more.
The monthly UFC mixed martial arts shows - featuring punching, kicking, martial arts and wrestling in a fenced-in octagon, with pounding rock music and video to boot - have become the rage, especially among males 18-35.
In 2003, UFC got a huge boost with the addition of the "Ultimate Fighter" reality show on cable's Spike TV, with an estimated 2.2 million viewers tuning in. One night last fall, an ultimate fighting show drew more young male TV viewers than a Major League Baseball playoff game. The UFC pushes the Internet and feel-good glitz, with competitors appealing to a suburban crowd that is into physical fitness and martial arts.
"More people are involved and watching [UFC] on TV," said Marcus Marinelli, who trains mixed martial arts fighters at Strong Style Martial Arts and Training Center in Independence. "People are looking for entertainment.
"I think boxing is in trouble. They are the last converts."
Boxing remains a city game. Most boxers come from poorer backgrounds, and it has been that way since the days of Irish, Italian and Jewish immigrants, now giving way to blacks and Latinos.
Fewer boxing promoters are putting on small "club shows," the training ground for would-be champions, because there is little money to be made at that developmental level. So would-be fighters have little incentive to stay in the gym.
USA Boxing's Lake Erie Association, which ranges from Youngstown to Lorain and Cleveland to Mansfield, had registered 268 athletes in 2006. According to association president Clytee Dunn, that is about half the registrants from 10 years ago.
Two years ago, the historic Cleveland Golden Gloves tournament was nearly canceled for lack of entries. This year's Golden Gloves are April 13.
"You can't put your finger on one thing," said Dunn, who has been involved with Cleveland amateur boxing for 40 years. "Kids are going to make decisions, and sometimes they make the wrong ones. Some guys can't give up the street corruption.
"Kids are loyal to the program up to 14 or 15. Then they get girlfriends and don't come to the gym."
Joe Delguyd, a Cleveland lawyer, helps run the Old School Boxing Club on Perkins Avenue and East 36th Street. On any given night, 20 to 30 fighters go through the age-old rituals of skipping rope and rapping the speed bag. They are strictly boxers, amateurs and pros, staying in shape in case a bout should come along.
According to Delguyd, it costs between $35,000 and $40,000 to maintain the converted warehouse, with the winter's heating bill eating up a big chunk. He said money from a county anti-crime grant ran out in 2005, and that he is in the process of securing federal money.
"We're talent-rich, but not rich in numbers," said Delguyd. "We've got a nice big gym that's well equipped to hold the kids' interest. I'm almost at a loss to explain it. We just don't have enough shows."
And the emergence of UFC-style mixed martial arts fighting has given would-be boxers another option.
"It's a different sport catering to a different crowd," Delguyd said. "We're in the inner city, and a lot of our kids, I can't even get myself to charge them dues. The [martial arts] guys pay for classes."
On a recent night at Strong Style, located in a former tile warehouse just west of I-77 in Independence, nearly 50 guys went through mixed martial arts workouts.
Boxing equipment was available, including nine heavy bags and a small ring, but so was a large matted area and an octagonal ring. Karate kicks slammed into the bags and head-geared battlers practiced wrestling-style holds and takedowns on the mat.
On Saturday in Columbus, 26-year-old Jason Dent will make his second UFC national appearance when he takes on Gleason Tibau, a black belt from Brazil. Dent runs the Griffonrawl Thai Boxing and Mixed Martial Arts Academy in Mentor and occasionally trains at Strong Style.
"I would have liked to [box], but there were no local gyms," said Dent, who attended Ledgemont High in Geauga County and is considered a lightweight in UFC at 155 pounds. "I've never been knocked out. To me it's more natural to put a knee to the head. It's not a street fight, but it's raw. There are so many ways to win."
When mixed martial arts fighting started to gain popularity in the early 1990s, U.S. Sen. John McCain compared it to "human cock fighting." Rules were skimpy at best, weight classes did not exist, and opponents commonly stomped on their opponents and kicked them in the groin. Most states were not prepared to handle this "anything goes" fighting, and many banned it.
The Ohio Athletic Commission, which regulates professional boxing, was cautious when mixed martial arts fighting was proposed here in the late 1990s. Gradually, the commission realized that these "renegade" shows were taking place and sought to bring them under its jurisdiction.
It has paid off. In 2005, there were 40 licensed mixed martial arts shows in Ohio, compared to 25 boxing shows. Last year, the count was 80-24.
The commission collects a 5 percent tax on the gate and stands to make $135,000 off Saturday's UFC show in Columbus. Last year's entire tax receipts for the commission totaled just under $188,000.
The commission's largest boxing collection: $12,100 from a 2001 Don King-promoted affair in Cincinnati.
OAC Executive Director Bernie Profato said he is proud Ohio has been in the forefront in developing mixed martial arts fighting rules.
"I totally come from a boxing background," said Profato. "But I studied [mixed martial arts]. I didn't run from it. The first thing was to control it and stop these renegade shows. You didn't want somebody to get seriously hurt or killed on your watch.
Tom Vacca grew up in Cleveland and has been involved in boxing for 30 years. As a matchmaker and promoter, he worked for years in Michigan putting on shows at The Palace of Auburn Hills and in Detroit with the famous Kronk Gym.
Until health problems two years ago, he was Cleveland's most prolific pro boxing promoter. Call him old school, but UFC-style fighting does not sit right with him.
Marinelli, the owner of Strong Style, had a response to Vacca's challenge: "Bring it on."
Marinelli pointed out numerous injuries suffered by mixed martial arts competitors. One of the most well-known was a 2000 match in Japan between Kazushi Sakuraba and Renzo Gracie, a member of the most revered family in mixed martial arts fighting. Gracie said afterward that he saw his arm ligaments tearing one by one and knew Sakuraba was breaking his arm, but he preferred to let that happen and retain his pride instead of "tapping out," or quitting.
That kind of drama is one reason UFC plays well with young males. Tim Lueckenhoff, president of the Association of Boxing Commissions, a coalition of the country's state commissions, says boxing has to fight back.
"Boxing has to draw a younger audience, and I don't know how they are going to do it," said Lueckenhoff. "What kills boxing now is that the two best fighters can't get together because organizations have to protect their turf. Everybody is trying to make money and not get hurt."
Boxing expert becomes a convert
Not many people know the ins and outs of both sports like Marc Ratner does.
Ratner had been with the Nevada State Athletic Commission for 22 years, the last 14 as its executive director, and oversaw many of the most famous and infamous boxing matches.
He left the commission in May to become a UFC vice president, giving the sport an instant boost of credibility.
"Look around all your cities and suburbs, you see these karate or martial arts studios," said Ratner. "There is a lot less pain [than boxing]. UFC has become a total event experience. Very few [bouts] go to a decision, and the 18-35 year-old demographic like the action."
Boxing still has a beating pulse. It did in November when Youngstown's favorite middleweight, rising star Kelly Pavlik drew more than 4,000 hometown fans and a gate of $142,200. It will May 5, when Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather Jr. square off in Las Vegas.
Still, boxing now only seems to come to life when the two right guys are in the ring.
In UFC, the two right guys seem to be in the ring just about every month.
Ratner said that at a major boxing match, the seats gradually fill up as the main event approaches. At UFC, an arena is two-thirds full for the first bout.
"Boxing is still one of the most glorious sports when the right guys are in there," Ratner said. "But it's got to get itself together at the grass roots. If people don't know who the heavyweight champ is, you are in trouble."