Pimped Out In Plovdiv

FROM EARLY DAYSOF VAULIN TO KLITSCHKOS, RUSSIAN/EASTERN BLOC RING INVASION FLOWING LIKE FINEST OF VODKAS -

REPORT FROM  BULGARIA  Special Report, Exclusive to FightNightNews.com

 
Take a quick survey of the current world boxing rankings, and it’s apparent that we are in the midst of an emerging New World Order when it comes to pugilism. Names that betray an eastern European heritage litter the top ten places in all of the weights above 140 lbs, as if fighters have suddenly replaced vodka as the chief export from the old Eastern Bloc.

Ever since the cinematic Soviet caricature of Ivan Drago hit the silver screen in 1985, Russian boxers have been coming to America with varying degrees of success. Yuriy Vaulin was the first high profile pug export. A 6’4” Heavyweight southpaw, he was touted for greatness when he arrived in the US after a stellar amateur career in the red vest of the Big Red Machine that was the Soviet Union.

Thanks in no small part to the economic & political reforms of perestroika & glasnost, Vaulin was brought over by Lou Falcigno, a New York based promoter whose Momentum Enterprises promoted Hector Camacho v Ray Mancini in 1989. The trainer charged with steering Vaulin to the top was Tommy Gallagher, who is still coaching contenders alongside “Sugar” Ray Leonard on the hit ESPN reality show.

But alas, Vaulin proved to be one of those fighters who either knocked you out, or got knocked out himself. After a career that totalled 16 contests at Heavyweight & Cruiserweight, and mixing with subsequent “world” titlists such as Tommy “The Duke” Morrison & “King” Arthur Williams, Vaulin retired with a 13-3 mark, never quite scaling the great heights predicted upon his arrival.

While it’s easy to dismiss Vaulin as a Russian robot or Soviet stiff, he is an important evolutionary stepping stone, and perhaps even the catalyst, for the situation we have today, where three of the four “world” heavyweight title-holders are from Eastern Europe. This may be the pinnacle, but we have been treated to some outstanding fighters along the way, such as Vassily Jirov, Roman Karmazin, and Kostya Tzyu to name but a few. (Incidentally, Vaulin is now a trainer is at the Combat Sambo Centre in New York, a mixed martial arts academy where he coaches boxing.)

But where do all of these fighters come from? Why are they all so technically proficient, frighteningly fit, and fundamentally sound? It was with all of these issues in mind that I travelled to Plovdiv in Bulgaria to witness the 36th European Amateur Boxing Championships, to see if I could source the breeding ground of the boxing invasion from Eastern Europe. In the past this biennial tournament has seen Kostya Tzyu, Sven Ottke, and Daruisz Michalczewski all crowned as kings of Europe (Wladimir Klitschko could only earn a Silver!). Could I be among the first to witness the emergence of a future star of the professional fight game?

After the capital of Sofia, Plovdiv is Bulgaria’s second largest city with 350, 000 inhabitants. To the untrained ear, the language is utterly impenetrable, almost to the point of sounding as though it’s from another planet. I don’t speak Bulgarian (heck, thanks to my Jamaican roots, sometimes I’m barely comprehendible in standard English!) So, armed with my “point it” picture book dictionary (as used by UN Diplomats, according to the foreword), I headed for the fight venue, where 241 boxers from 41 countries would slug it out over ten days.

The city is an incongruous mix of opulent ancient splendour, such as the relatively recent rediscovery of a Roman amphitheatre, and totalitarian functionality, encapsulated by the seemingly endless rows of homogenous high rise dwellings inflicted upon the landscape during decades of communist rule. Similarly there is a massive disparity between the abject poverty of the city’s poor and the ostentatious wealth of the newly rich. But all were warm and generous hosts, who made the fighters and the accompanying travelling circus feel welcome.

Once inside however, the attendant crowd wouldn’t have looked out of place at a fight in Manchester’s MEN Arena, Madison Square Garden, or the Mandalay Bay. Dubious-looking dignitaries flashed crocodile smiles while glad-handing their way around the arena. Pimp-suited, flat-faced toughs rolled up in rimmed out rides, generally accompanied by searingly hot honeys wearing little more than strappy, high-heeled shoes.

The action itself though, couldn’t have been more different from what one would expect to see at one of those aforementioned Meccas of boxing. The rule changes implemented as a result of the daylight robbery endured by Roy Jones Jr at the Seoul Olympics in 1988, means that the amateur code bears a closer resemblance to fencing than to professional boxing.

The finest exponents of amateur boxing land feather-light punches while avoiding being hit altogether. This often leads to sterile contests, where the superior technician builds up an early, insurmountable lead and either stays out of range or pitter-pats his way to a stoppage win on the 20-point mercy rule. With absolutely no premium placed on effective aggression or power-punching – a blow that scores a knockdown or forces a standing count still only scores one point – it is almost impossible for a fighter to overturn substantial deficit.

Having said that, one does have to admire the fitness of the boxers on show, along with their ability to think under fire, qualities which will stand them in good stead in any code of boxing.

As the tournament progressed it was clear that the Russian squad was the strongest of the teams in attendance. Without the anomalous might of the tiny island of Cuba to challenge their European hegemony, Russia romped their way through the opposition to produce an amazing statistic; a finalist in each of the eleven weight categories, from Light-Fly to Super-Heavy. Remarkable! But so superior were they in terms of ability, strategy, and technique, that only a couple of them quickened the pulse with their ring exploits.

Alexy Tischenko is the reigning World & Olympic Champion at Featherweight, a little buzz saw of a boxer who is comfortable fighting in any mode; forwards or backwards, aggressor or counter-puncher, it all appears easy for Alexy. Not sure whether he intends to turn pro, but it’s worth remembering the name. Despite stepping up to Lightweight this year, he duly won European Gold.

Tischenko’s teammate Roman Romanchuk was another Russian who caught the eye. The reigning World Silver medallist at Super-Heavyweight (he lost to Cuba’s outstanding Odlanier Solis in last year’s final in China), Romanchuk slimmed down to Heavyweight for this tournament, and looked sensational. He advanced to the final in impressive fashion, bouncing his opponents off the canvas with hurtful hooks and sledgehammer straights to score three stoppages in his three preliminary contests.

However, the final produced perhaps the biggest upset of the tournament, as the wheels came off the Romanchuk Express in alarming fashion. Dropped heavily in the first round, Romanchuk never fully recovered and was given a beating that wouldn’t have looked out place in the professional prize ring. He was saved from further punishment by the referee in the third round, a “proper” stoppage of a fighter rendered dazed & confused courtesy of his opponent’s concussive punches, rather than the sanitised version that’s prevalent in the amateurs. Shades of Wladimir Klitschko, anyone? Perhaps that’s harsh, as anyone can be caught by a good shot, and maybe he was weight-weakened by dropping down to Heavyweight (91 KG). But his feeble punch resistance was worrying, especially when the only credentials his conqueror carried was being champion of Ukraine.

But it is from “Klitschko country” that the tournament’s most exciting fighter hails. Ismail Syllakh is a young brother who boxes in the blue and yellow of Ukraine, the progeny of a Cuban father and Ukrainian mother. An 81 Kilogram Light-heavyweight, he follows in the Cuban boxing tradition of being freakishly tall for his weight class. He walks to the ring with his hood up, head down, and arms crossed over his chest in the manner of a solemn executioner. His towering physique cuts an intimidating figure. Once in the ring, he unleashes long, quick, powerful punches that have his rivals running for cover. He blazed and bludgeoned his way to four stoppage wins to reach the gold medal bout.

However his relative inexperience left him somewhat exposed in the final, and after being floored in the opening round, he was stopped in the third. For my money though, he’s been blessed with a generous sprinkling of stardust, and his style appears well suited to the pros. A worrying tendency to admire his work rather than stay busy is his biggest flaw, but surely that will be ironed out with greater experience. He’s definitely one to watch out for in the future.

The stoppage losses suffered by two of the tournament’s best boxers in their respective Gold Medal bouts is perhaps symptomatic of a wider trend that was evident throughout the championships; a genuine dislike of being hit. While getting tagged isn’t a pleasant experience for anyone, it is an integral part of the hurt business. But time and again throughout the tournament, boxers would ship a shot and genuine panic would set in, to the point of some fighters holding the affected area and turning their backs. Is this a result of nearly two decades of the “hurt” being removed from amateur boxing? Whatever the reason, it doesn’t bode well for a career in the professional ranks.

All in all, the 36th European Amateur Boxing Championships was a wonderful experience. While I don’t think that I witnessed the embryonic career of the next Kostya Tzyu, I did see highly-skilled, highly motivated, totally focused fighters and it was clear that fierce competition was a major factor in sharpening these qualities that are essential if a boxer hopes to get the best out of himself; these guys know that if they don’t perform, then there are literally five more guys in each weight-class ready to snatch the jerseys off their backs, the gumshields out of their mouths and step into the ring to represent their country.

That type of ravenous hunger produces a strength in depth which means that Eastern Bloc boxing isn’t faced with a dwindling talent pool – like in the UK or the US – from which to draw fighters. So as long as an appetite remains to see professional prizefighting, and as long as America continues to pay top dollar, then one fact remains abundantly clear; the Russians (and the rest of Eastern Europe) will keep on coming. American dominance can no longer be taken for granted thanks to this wonderful addition to the ever-evolving fistic landscape.


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