/ 7 February 1997

Divine help for sinful Ollie

Oliver McCall says God will be in his corner when he fights Lennox Lewis fo= r t he title. He may need him, says Kevin Mitchell

HAVING been dropped on his head as a baby, Oliver McCall seems to have been= in

a state of almost permanent, thumb-sucking belligerence ever since. This i=

s a n admirable quality if restricted to a boxing ring, say, but a nuisance oth= erw

ise, which is why the fighter’s CV contains several contests not recognised= by

The Ring magazine but fully annotated in police stations from Chicago to N=

ash

ville.

The man they call “The Atomic Bull” was made for boxing’s china shops. Two = yea

rs ago, Lennox Lewis’s chin tinkled and cracked and McCall snatched away hi= s h eavyweight championship – at least that portion of it presided over by the = Wor

ld Boxing Council and influenced by Don King. They meet again this weekend.= Al

legedly.

Away from work, McCall’s demeanour is radically different, a fact borne out= by

his behaviour after the Lewis fight. The champ could not contain his excit=

eme

nt and celebrated with the sort of gusto normally associated with a roomful= of

elephants on speed – a not altogether misleading comparison, given McCall’=

s p referred recreational chemicals.

Ollie, who might consider changing his nom de guerre to “Another Fine Mess”= , w ould seem to belong to the George Best school of sporting ethics: he thinks= a=20

balanced diet is a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. Having not be= en=20

able to answer the question: “Where did it all go wrong?”, McCall, like Bes= t,=20

was cast into a vacuum when the clamour faded.=20

Three weeks after he lost his title to Frank Bruno in September 1995 on a n= igh

t of dispiriting under-achievement, he was left to ponder a return to life = on=20

the periphery of heavyweight boxing, and went on a spree of eye-popping pro= por

tions.

The former heavyweight champion of the world – notionally a figure regarded= wi

th some respect and awe – was said to have been mugged by three men in a le= ss=20

than salubrious part of St Louis in the early hours of the morning. The obj= ect

of their desire, according to police, was his loser’s cheque worth nearly =

$1,

5 million, stuffed down his sock. Police arrested two suspects, recovered t= he=20

cheque and were bemused when McCall refused to press charges. “What robbery?” McCall =

ask

ed. “I love St Louis.”

McCall was strangely subdued in the Bruno contest, in stark contrast to his= ma

nic appearance against Lewis. Still, after he had failed to provide a compl= ete

drugs sample for the British Boxing Board of Control, suspicions were natu=

ral

ly roused as to his chemical legality in the ring. The fighter took except= ion

and threatened to sue. The board have never announced further details of t=

hei

r concern=20 and McCall has never sued.

McCall met up with the law three times in 1996. It started in April in Wins= ton

-Salem, North Carolina, where he was committed to a drugs and alcohol rehab= ili

tation centre after being arrested for possession of marijuana. Back on his= ow

n patch in Chicago the following month he was picked up again for possessio= n a nd put on 18 months’ probation.

All was quiet until Christmas, when he turned up in Nashville and celebrate= d Y uletide with a spectacular performance in the lobby of the hotel housing se= ver

al boxers who had arrived for the January 11 show which saw Henry Akinwande= fi

rmly establish himself in the heavyweight picture by humiliating Scott Welc= h o ver 12 rounds.

McCall threw a Christmas tree, ashtray and whisky glass past startled patro= ns,

the police were called, placated the boxer and started to leave. McCall wa=

nte

d more, though, and spat at the officers. He was charged with vandalism, di= sor

derly conduct and resisting arrest. As a consequence, he becomes the first = box

er in the history of the sport to prepare for a world title under virtual h= ous

e arrest,=20 with his drugs counsellor, Don King, and God making up an interesting coter= ie=20

of supporters.

It is not an unusual development in the boxing game that McCall should call= on

a higher influence to help him through – King, after all, has been there f=

or=20

him before when he needed his signature. God is new on the scene. “Oliver i= s a warrior,” McCall says in third-personspeak, “a real warrior, with God behi=

nd=20

me, with God in my corner. Lennox Lewis can have all the best trainers – Em= anu

el Steward , Eddie Futch, Angelo Dundee, Lou Duva, all together – he’s gonna get knock= ed=20

out.”

Given the concern of Home Box Office, whose money is funding McCall’s bout = for

the vacant WBC title with Lewis at the Las Vegas Hilton, any version of Mc=

Cal

l turning up would be a relief. Rumours swept Las Vegas last week that McCa= ll=20

had already pulled out, and Akinwande was ready to relinquish the WBO versi= on=20

and take on Lewis. King’s camp issued a denial – with a subtle rider. “Oliv= er=20

is already on his way to Las Vegas for the fight. As far as we know the fight is stil=

l o n.”

What future now, for Oliver McCall, a man with a hell of a past? Good luck,= Ol

lie.