BOXING: Gavin Evans
THE notion of a “Great Black Hope” may seem a little odd in South Africa — particularly in a sport where blacks outnumber whites by nine to one — but boxing’s 1995 Prospect of the Year is not shy about embracing this dubious label.
Courage Tshabalala shrugs his massive shoulders, nods his small, bullet-shaped head and a wall-to-wall grin spreads across his youthful face.
“Ha ha ha ha. Yes. You see, the world always seems to be on a hopeless hunt for a Great White Hope, but in South Africa it’s the opposite. We may dominate just about every other division, but we’ve never had a black heavyweight champion. I think it’s one of the reasons why people here are so excited.”
A combination of genes and nutrition has, until now, ensured that every major league big fellow to emerge from these parts has been called Gerrie, Kallie, Johannes, Pierre, Corrie or Francois (to list the post- Seventies brigade). The handful of black heavies who had a go were really overblown cruiserweights, and if the truth be told the efforts expended on their promotion were spotty, to say the least.
But all this has changed. Boxing is about image-making and razzmatazz as much as about talent. The country has a black, heavyweight president, so it follows that it requires a black heavyweight champion, doesn’t it? Well, maybe not, but the coming of Courage has certainly been well timed.
He did the expected on Tuesday night by walking away with the sport’s Prospect of the Year award, telling Sports Minister Steve Tshwete and a hundred or so fistic notables that “the only better thing than this award will be the heavyweight title of the world”, and adding for good measure, “believe me, the best of Courage is yet to come”.
In his nine months in New Jersey’s finest boxing gyms, the formerly diffident and monosyllabic warrior has acquired a penchant for hyperbole along with a bigger body and more refined skills. It all helps keep the Americans sweet, and that, after all, is what his quest is all about. Always on the lookout for something fresh and exciting, the United States promoters and television moguls who control the game have dubbed Tshabalala the “African Tyson”, the “Zulu Warrior”, and all sorts of other nonsense and are talking of him as the most exciting presence in the sport today.
More seriously, Lou Duva, one of the games major players, acquired a share of his managerial contract from Johannesburg’s Nick Durandt, and placed him under the care of the leading East Coast trainer, Tommy Brooks, and has had him sparring with the likes of former world champion Evander Holyfield, former Olympic champion Ray Mercer and a string of other serious
So far, it’s all worked perfectly. His professional record stands at 10 fights, 10 wins, 10 knockouts, and no-one’s lasted longer than the second round. The opposition have barely been what are known in the game as “warm bodies”, but the HBO television network has retained its interest, and everyone acknowledges it’s the kind of risk-free fight-a-month build-up he needs to build his reputation, confidence and skills. The serious stuff takes place in the gym.
“Sparring there is so tough, so competitive that you really learn. You come across all styles and you start to be able to adapt. Like Ray Mercer always wants a war, so I give it to him. I really hurt him once. Holyfield, on the other hand, works more on speed, so we have lighter, faster sessions. Tommy is a very experienced trainer, so it’s all helped me develop my defence as well as my power”.
But, to go back a bit, it wasn’t always like this, and there are some doubters who say the good news won’t
The only son of a Soweto couple, Tshabalala was drawn to the game by his fleet-footed light heavyweight cousin, Ginger Tshabalala, four years ago. Durandt, a young hustler of a trainer, took one look at the powerful 18-year-old who walked through the door of his Johannesburg gym and saw stars.
After a crash course in the rudiments, the lad was put in the ring, and was soon knocking them over. But in his third amateur fight he had a setback which some say is the portent of things to come. He was put in with the far more experienced Pieter Smith, son of the former South African champion Kosie Smith, and was
“He hit me on the break, which is illegal, and I went down. I got up but the referee stopped the fight. It means nothing and if we fought now I’d flatten him.” It’s a fight that’s unlikely to happen. Smith, also 10:0 as a professional, has the same South African promoter, Rodney Berman.
Tshabalala’s progress from then on was spectacular. He won the South African title, travelled to Nigeria to knock out the 1992 Olympic super heavyweight silver medalist Richard Bango in 36 seconds, and then, 18 months ago, turned professional with a record of 70 wins, 70 knockouts in 71 starts.
Fighting at first under the banner of Johannesburg’s Mike Segal, he was crude and poorly balanced, but immensely powerful. In his third fight against a trialhorse called Steve Tyanti, he walked into a haymaker, lost his footing and went down. Though he sprang up immediately to end matters with his own brutal swings, that question mark about his chin
“It’s nonsense. My chin has been tested by guys like Ray Mercer, Herbie Hide and Kevin McBride, and none of them have put me down, and anyway what I’ve learnt in America is to protect myself at all times. Anyone who sticks his chin out when fighting a heavyweight could be in trouble.”
After five outings Tshabalala had run out of appropriate local opposition. As his reputation grew, the men called to the slaughter block would develop mystery ailments on the eve of their big nights, while the eager youngster twiddled his oversized thumbs. Segal lacked the necessary American connections and capital to take him further, so Tshabalala and his manager jumped camps to join Berman and his New York partner Cedric Kushner.
In his international debut in South Padre Island, Texas, he put away a Mexican road sweeper in a few minutes. Duva took note, signed him up and sent him to New Jersey, where he made an instant impression.
“A guy like Lennox Lewis is a strong sonovabitch who can benchpress 300lbs. I tried Courage on the weights and he benchpressed 440, first time,” said sometime conditioner Courtney Smith.
The two metre, 110kg Irishman, Kevin McBride, who is unbeaten in 12 pro fights, was also astounded.
“This guy has real power. I mean I’m big and I can take a great punch, but I have to admit he’s hurt me a couple of times. I tell you, he can really whack, and he can take it too `cause I’ve teed off on him a couple of times, and, like, nothing.”
The 1,86mr, 102kg Tshabalala is not yet 23, and his backers feel he needn’t be rushed.
“We’re talking about a fight a month for the next year, gradually stepping up the level of the competition and trying him against boxers of different styles. By the end of this year he may be able to break into the top 10, and we’re talking about a title shot at the end of 1996,” said Durandt.
Tshabalala himself is happy with this progress. Though he’s knocking over the men in front of him in a round or two, he realises it won’t always be like this, and insists he’s ready for the next notch.
“Every day I run eight miles, spar 10 or more rounds and I train three times a day. These days I can move, I can box, I can protect myself. If I have to go the distance, no problem.”
On Thursday he returned to America to train for his February 22 outing against Mike McGrady, a reasonable journeyman who has lost only two out of 12, a far sprightlier tally than previous tryers. He knows it’s relatively easy meat, but is adamant that when the big one comes, he’ll be ready.
“Every man with my size and power has a chance of becoming heavyweight champion of the world. I mean look at George Foreman at 46 years old. He was taking a pasting and then one punch, boom, and it was over. I’ve got the power, and I’m developing the skills. My time will come.”
* Jan Bergman — probably the most talented prospect in the country — should have an easy night at the office tomorrow, when he defends his World Boxing Council super lightweight title against Juan Baldwin at the Morula Sun.
The 25-year-old American visitor has looked distinctly unspectacular in the gym, despite his record of 18 wins in 20 fights. The tall, lean, 23-year-old Bergman has looked to be at his brilliant best, punching holes through the collective defences of his usually larger, but far slower, sparring partners.
He should get his 25th straight win in three or four rounds, and will then be in a postion to challenge for one of the “world” titles at lightweight or superlight.
On the undercard Ginger Tshabalala fights former world title contender David Vedder, unbeaten lightweight fringe contender Philip Holiday fights the American Gene Reid and South African middleweight champion Mark Cameron fights Russia’s Andrei Shkakilkov.