Beanflicker
05-02-2007, 03:09 AM
http://www.ringsidereport.com/rsr/news.php?readmore=1289
In boxing, corruption and dirty dealings are often assumed to be the rule and not the exception, yet the sport occasionally manages to shock even the most hardened of sensibilities. Such was the case nearly 24 years ago at New York’s Madison Square Garden.
“Irish” Billy Collins grew up poor in Antioch, Tennessee, a small town located just south of Nashville. Billy’s old man was a pro fighter good enough to last 12 rounds against former welterweight champ Curtis Cokes, and Collins, JR., took up the fistic gauntlet, turning professional at the age of 20 following a successful amateur career.
Collins really seemed to have the knack inside the squared circle, winning his first 13 fights, 11 by knockout, with one of his 2 decision wins coming over former two time light welterweight title challenger Harold Brazier. On June 16, 1983, Collins faced Luis Resto, a formerly rated contender turned journeyman, on the undercard of the Roberto Duran – Davey Moore WBA Light Middleweight Championship. The fight was televised on ABC’s Wide World of Sports, and viewed by many as Collins’ next step towards his own title opportunity. Collins’ father proudly seconded his son for the occasion, while Resto’s chief second was trainer Carlos “Panama” Lewis, a failed professional fighter who began working corners in the early 1970’s, assisting the legendary Ray Arcel as a translator for 2007 IBHOF inductee Roberto Duran.
Collins was heavily favored over his more experienced opponent, but things did not go nearly as planned. The light punching Resto (8 KO’s in 30 fights), got by far the measure of Collins throughout the bout, rendering his facial features into a grotesquely bruised and swollen mask. Ringside accounts of the fight document Collins repeatedly advising his corner that it felt like Resto was hitting him with a brick. To his credit, Collins didn’t quit when presented with the chance, and lasted the 10 round distance with Resto without being dropped, albeit in a losing effort. When the fight ended, Resto visited his opponents’ corner to shake hands, and Collin’s father felt nothing but knuckles. Something was obviously wrong.
Immediately after the bout, Collins SR. demanded that the New York State Athletic Commission (“NYSAC”) impound Resto’s gloves as evidence, and the NYPD’s investigation determined that most of the horsehair padding inside the 8 ounce mitts had been removed through holes in their palm sides, meaning that Resto had essentially used his bare hands to pummel the body and facial features of Billy Collins.
In October 1986, Resto (who denies any glove tampering or knowledge of same) was convicted of assault, conspiracy, and criminal possession of a deadly weapon,
(his fists), and banned from boxing for life. Lewis (who intimates that he was team Resto’s fall guy) was convicted of identical charges, did identical prison time and received a lifetime NYSAC ban prohibiting him from working corners anywhere in the United States. The Commission also changed the Resto–Collins decision to a no contest.
Unfortunately, fate remained extremely unkind to Billy Collins after the Resto fight. The tremendous beating he absorbed on that fateful June evening left him with permanently blurred vision and no boxing career. In fact, Billy was unable to see well enough to secure employment of any kind. On March 6, 1984, an inebriated, miserable Collins drove his 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass into an Antioch culvert, and he was killed upon impact. Collins was only 22 years old. While at first blush Collins’ death seemed a tragically unfortunate accident, one might just as readily argue suicide or perhaps something more insidious, as causative. In a 1998 Sports Illustrated interview, Billy Collins, SR., stated, “You don’t think Resto knew he didn’t have padding in the gloves?” “You don’t think Panama Lewis took it out? I’ve had 15 years to think about it, and I know - I know - that they did it. They killed him. They killed my son.”
Some years back, former Ring Magazine editor Randy Gordon opined that, “Panama Lewis should never, ever be allowed to work in boxing.” According to Gordon, “Pete Rose was banned from baseball for life. He was banned for betting on the sport. You don’t see Pete Rose in a dugout. He can’t put on a uniform. He can’t be voted into the Hall of Fame, although his accomplishments on the field clearly merit that. But baseball has rules and it has enforced those rules. Should boxing be expected to do any less? This guy’s crime was against the sport of boxing. Boxing shouldn’t allow him back in, and won’t if I have any say in it. They can take it to whatever court they want.”
As it turned out, a courtroom wasn’t necessary. Following his release from prison and a stint working in a New York City cafeteria, Lewis initiated efforts to return to boxing in the U.S. as a trainer. However, the NYSAC ban against him generally held fast; Lewis secured piecemeal employment as a trainer, but remained excluded from serving as a corner man. In recent years, Lewis was permitted to work with some members of Don King’s stable, including a turn as a member of Mike Tyson’s entourage for his 2002 heavyweight title bout with Lennox Lewis.
Of course, Lewis has been allowed to pursue employment as a trainer outside the U.S., working with fistic notables such as the South African former heavyweight contender Francois Botha, and until recently, the up and coming Russian heavyweights, brothers Sultan and Timor Ibragimov. However, Lewis remains on the fringe end of the sport, which is as it should be.
In Jeff Ryan’s February, 1987 KO Magazine article, “Rest Easy Billy Ray,” the inquiry was posed that, “If Lewis would remove the padding from a pair of gloves in order to gain an edge in a meaningless 10-rounder, to which depths would he stoop in a championship bout or a superfight?” Mr. Ryan need only have looked a bit backwards in time for his answer.
Panama Lewis’s shameful conduct in the Resto–Collins bout followed shortly after another incident that while not nearly as egregious, is unquestionably as well known to boxing fans and historians. On November 12, 1982, Alexis Arguello met Aaron Pryor for the WBA Light Welterweight Title, with Panama Lewis in “The Hawk’s” corner. Also in that corner was a little black bottle “mixed” by Lewis, which HBO television audiences heard him demanding for his charge following round 13. The bout had been brutal but close, and both men seemed more than a little fatigued. However, as round 14 began, a profusely invigorated Pryor flew from his corner and swarmed Arguello, ending the fight by means of unceasing combination punching. Regrettably, what should have been the underdog Pryor’s golden moment was tainted by controversy.
Lewis contends that the subject container held no stimulants, but merely a blend of club soda, honey and schnapps. That may well be the case, but we will never know, since if memory serves, Pryor failed to appear for his post fight drug test, casting suspicion on both Lewis and his fighter. In retrospect, it seems that these misgivings were indeed well founded, undoubtedly so with regards to Lewis.
I was reading an article wherein Randy Gordon describes a highly emotional 1999 meeting with Panama Lewis, who was at the time training Francois Botha for his fight with Mike Tyson. Gordon reported that Lewis sobbed nearly uncontrollably throughout their get-together, and expressed his grief for what had happened in the Resto fight, swearing that “I would never in a million years allow something like that to happen again.” Be that as it may, I for one suspect that through his veil of crocodile tears, Panama was caused to perceive the subtle, yet unmistakable sound of Billy Collins, JR., turning over in his long cold grave.
On a side note I actually have the Billy Collins/Resto fight on my computer. It's real hard to watch when you know the aftermatch.
In boxing, corruption and dirty dealings are often assumed to be the rule and not the exception, yet the sport occasionally manages to shock even the most hardened of sensibilities. Such was the case nearly 24 years ago at New York’s Madison Square Garden.
“Irish” Billy Collins grew up poor in Antioch, Tennessee, a small town located just south of Nashville. Billy’s old man was a pro fighter good enough to last 12 rounds against former welterweight champ Curtis Cokes, and Collins, JR., took up the fistic gauntlet, turning professional at the age of 20 following a successful amateur career.
Collins really seemed to have the knack inside the squared circle, winning his first 13 fights, 11 by knockout, with one of his 2 decision wins coming over former two time light welterweight title challenger Harold Brazier. On June 16, 1983, Collins faced Luis Resto, a formerly rated contender turned journeyman, on the undercard of the Roberto Duran – Davey Moore WBA Light Middleweight Championship. The fight was televised on ABC’s Wide World of Sports, and viewed by many as Collins’ next step towards his own title opportunity. Collins’ father proudly seconded his son for the occasion, while Resto’s chief second was trainer Carlos “Panama” Lewis, a failed professional fighter who began working corners in the early 1970’s, assisting the legendary Ray Arcel as a translator for 2007 IBHOF inductee Roberto Duran.
Collins was heavily favored over his more experienced opponent, but things did not go nearly as planned. The light punching Resto (8 KO’s in 30 fights), got by far the measure of Collins throughout the bout, rendering his facial features into a grotesquely bruised and swollen mask. Ringside accounts of the fight document Collins repeatedly advising his corner that it felt like Resto was hitting him with a brick. To his credit, Collins didn’t quit when presented with the chance, and lasted the 10 round distance with Resto without being dropped, albeit in a losing effort. When the fight ended, Resto visited his opponents’ corner to shake hands, and Collin’s father felt nothing but knuckles. Something was obviously wrong.
Immediately after the bout, Collins SR. demanded that the New York State Athletic Commission (“NYSAC”) impound Resto’s gloves as evidence, and the NYPD’s investigation determined that most of the horsehair padding inside the 8 ounce mitts had been removed through holes in their palm sides, meaning that Resto had essentially used his bare hands to pummel the body and facial features of Billy Collins.
In October 1986, Resto (who denies any glove tampering or knowledge of same) was convicted of assault, conspiracy, and criminal possession of a deadly weapon,
(his fists), and banned from boxing for life. Lewis (who intimates that he was team Resto’s fall guy) was convicted of identical charges, did identical prison time and received a lifetime NYSAC ban prohibiting him from working corners anywhere in the United States. The Commission also changed the Resto–Collins decision to a no contest.
Unfortunately, fate remained extremely unkind to Billy Collins after the Resto fight. The tremendous beating he absorbed on that fateful June evening left him with permanently blurred vision and no boxing career. In fact, Billy was unable to see well enough to secure employment of any kind. On March 6, 1984, an inebriated, miserable Collins drove his 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass into an Antioch culvert, and he was killed upon impact. Collins was only 22 years old. While at first blush Collins’ death seemed a tragically unfortunate accident, one might just as readily argue suicide or perhaps something more insidious, as causative. In a 1998 Sports Illustrated interview, Billy Collins, SR., stated, “You don’t think Resto knew he didn’t have padding in the gloves?” “You don’t think Panama Lewis took it out? I’ve had 15 years to think about it, and I know - I know - that they did it. They killed him. They killed my son.”
Some years back, former Ring Magazine editor Randy Gordon opined that, “Panama Lewis should never, ever be allowed to work in boxing.” According to Gordon, “Pete Rose was banned from baseball for life. He was banned for betting on the sport. You don’t see Pete Rose in a dugout. He can’t put on a uniform. He can’t be voted into the Hall of Fame, although his accomplishments on the field clearly merit that. But baseball has rules and it has enforced those rules. Should boxing be expected to do any less? This guy’s crime was against the sport of boxing. Boxing shouldn’t allow him back in, and won’t if I have any say in it. They can take it to whatever court they want.”
As it turned out, a courtroom wasn’t necessary. Following his release from prison and a stint working in a New York City cafeteria, Lewis initiated efforts to return to boxing in the U.S. as a trainer. However, the NYSAC ban against him generally held fast; Lewis secured piecemeal employment as a trainer, but remained excluded from serving as a corner man. In recent years, Lewis was permitted to work with some members of Don King’s stable, including a turn as a member of Mike Tyson’s entourage for his 2002 heavyweight title bout with Lennox Lewis.
Of course, Lewis has been allowed to pursue employment as a trainer outside the U.S., working with fistic notables such as the South African former heavyweight contender Francois Botha, and until recently, the up and coming Russian heavyweights, brothers Sultan and Timor Ibragimov. However, Lewis remains on the fringe end of the sport, which is as it should be.
In Jeff Ryan’s February, 1987 KO Magazine article, “Rest Easy Billy Ray,” the inquiry was posed that, “If Lewis would remove the padding from a pair of gloves in order to gain an edge in a meaningless 10-rounder, to which depths would he stoop in a championship bout or a superfight?” Mr. Ryan need only have looked a bit backwards in time for his answer.
Panama Lewis’s shameful conduct in the Resto–Collins bout followed shortly after another incident that while not nearly as egregious, is unquestionably as well known to boxing fans and historians. On November 12, 1982, Alexis Arguello met Aaron Pryor for the WBA Light Welterweight Title, with Panama Lewis in “The Hawk’s” corner. Also in that corner was a little black bottle “mixed” by Lewis, which HBO television audiences heard him demanding for his charge following round 13. The bout had been brutal but close, and both men seemed more than a little fatigued. However, as round 14 began, a profusely invigorated Pryor flew from his corner and swarmed Arguello, ending the fight by means of unceasing combination punching. Regrettably, what should have been the underdog Pryor’s golden moment was tainted by controversy.
Lewis contends that the subject container held no stimulants, but merely a blend of club soda, honey and schnapps. That may well be the case, but we will never know, since if memory serves, Pryor failed to appear for his post fight drug test, casting suspicion on both Lewis and his fighter. In retrospect, it seems that these misgivings were indeed well founded, undoubtedly so with regards to Lewis.
I was reading an article wherein Randy Gordon describes a highly emotional 1999 meeting with Panama Lewis, who was at the time training Francois Botha for his fight with Mike Tyson. Gordon reported that Lewis sobbed nearly uncontrollably throughout their get-together, and expressed his grief for what had happened in the Resto fight, swearing that “I would never in a million years allow something like that to happen again.” Be that as it may, I for one suspect that through his veil of crocodile tears, Panama was caused to perceive the subtle, yet unmistakable sound of Billy Collins, JR., turning over in his long cold grave.
On a side note I actually have the Billy Collins/Resto fight on my computer. It's real hard to watch when you know the aftermatch.