Holyfield V: The Final Chapter

"Don't call it a comeback, I've been here for years
Rockin' my peers and puttin' suckas in fear"
--Mama Said Knock You Out, LL Cool J

(May I first apologize for the obvious nature of today's lyrics. I could have been a little more subtle, I know, but it's hard enough to find time to write, so I'm saving time in other ways). Now, the story. I remember hearing a few months ago that Evander Holyfield was planning to come back and fight at the ripe old age of 43, and my first thought was obviously, "Why?!" It appeared in a list of stories that we go over every day in our editorial meeting, and the powers that be asked that we not talk about it on the show that day (the guys would likely have bashed the idea) because there was something in the works. That something turned out to be FSN's rights to broadcast the fight, a decision we learned of just a few days later, and I was forced to reconsider that initial notion. I still disagreed with the premise (dude made something like $250 million in his career, so there's no way he needs the money), but since we were doing it, I definitely wanted to be a part of it. Fast forward to Tuesday night (8/15), and I'm cutting the last few elements for the show--a feature on the main undercard fighter, Julio Cesar Garcia (managed by former champ Roberto Duran), and a couple teases--then getting packed on Wednesday afternoon and flying to Dallas. There's no way to accurately re-create my four days in the Big D, but my best effort will have to do, based on the big bullet points...
- Wednesday night arrival in Dallas, checked into the hotel and then headed to a place called The Loon for a late dinner. Watched highlights of the Angels-Rangers brawl (great stuff) and saw Mavs forward Adrian Griffin among the clientele. Had to deal with something we definitely take for granted in L.A.--smoking in restaurants and bars, definitely a bummer.
- Thursday morning up early and over to the arena to help with set-up for the fight. American Airlines Center is a pretty cool place, and we got to go check out the locker rooms and spend plenty of time working on the floor, doing all kinds of manual labor--good times...
- along with my buddies Joel and Mike, spent about an hour pretending to know what we were doing, measuring the fighters (16 on the card in all) and recording those measurements for our graphics people during the weigh-in (the image of Holyfield spreading his arms, Joel and Mike each holding one end of a tape measure, and me at a table writing down the data is quite humorous)...
- had to sit in the chairs on the set (Joel was Chris Rose, Mike was John Salley and I was Chris Byrd) for about two hours while our director set up his shots for the next day (can't say I've spent many more boring hours in the recent past), and it was made far worse by the presence (at the other end of the arena) of a seminar for customer service representatives working in the arena. What it basically amounted to was four or five executives telling this group of 200 people all the things they aren't allowed to do. Highlights included a 30-second speech from Mavs center Desagana Diop (they played "Jump" by Kriss Kross for his walk up to the stage, seriously) and a few questions from the audience at the end of this marathon--"What am I supposed to do when somebody's ordering a hot dog and they call me a wetback?", "When somebody comes at me, how am I supposed to call my supervisor? I'm just gonna react and go at them, you know?", and after the gauntlet had been laid down about no crazy hairstyles and no earrings, "So I know no crazy hairstyles, but what about a mohawk?" We were all dumber for having heard any of that seminar, but obviously not as dumb as the patrons attending said seminar. Thank goodness I don't work in guest services (or, for that matter, any job that would require my attendance at a three-hour blight on humanity like that)...
- finally made it out of there at 9:15 (our dinner reservation at Bob's Steak & Chop House was made for 9, then pushed back to 9:30, and we had no time to go back to the hotel and change) and hustled over to dinner at Dallas' number one spot (according to Dallas native Mike). Got to meet Boyd Tinsley on the way in (Joel, Jaime and I stopped, shook his hand and chatted with him for a few minutes, in town for a concert on Saturday night), and then enjoyed a tremendous dinner (steak, rarity for me) with the Hughes family (father, mother, brother and Mike) and the four of us...
- first thing on the day of the fight was the boxer meetings, which allows the talent and the producers to chat with each of the (main) boxers for a little bit, learning more about their background and their strategy for the fight. Holyfield came out first, and sounded pretty good (for a 43-year old guy who's been taking blows to the dome for more than 25 years). He told a few cool stories, one about his experience in the '84 Olympics, where he was disqualified in the semifinal round, and made us all laugh a few times. I had seen him during the weigh-in, but wow, is that guy yoked. He's 43 and probably shouldn't still be fighting (though my view on that has changed somewhat), but he's in incredible shape. The opponent was up next, a guy named Jeremy Bates, and though he obviously had no business getting in the ring with the Real Deal, he thoroughly entertained the group with his back-country humor and overt desire to sell insurance to anybody in the room. My buddy Joel proudly proclaimed that Bates would win in three rounds, drawing laughter from the rest of us, but he stuck to his prediction. Roberto Duran (remember him? contemporary of Leonard, Hagler and Hearns) came in to accompany his boxer, Julio Cesar Garcia, and was hilarious as well (don't worry, nobody said "no mas"). I struggled to get my camera out as he was giving Chris Rose the massage of his life, working those "stone hands" into Rose's shoulders like it was his job. Good times all around.
- had a few errands to run around town, getting video fed in from L.A. (last-second requests from the network execs), running people back and forth to the arena, and then finally settling at America Airlines Center for the final countdown to fight night. We had a very busy time setting up the stage, the ring, the dressing rooms, and then got changed into suits (three of the four of us, anyway) to class up the joint as the on-air hour approached. Had a few different responsibilities before we started, including getting fighters into the ring for the first bout and finding a ring announcer for said fight. Wandering around the arena with free rein from security, wearing a suit and a headset, I pretty much felt as important as I ever have. After helping our ring announcer, Jimmy Lennon, Jr., get the crowd pumped up for the opening jib shot (sweeping over the crowd) and hearing my producer loudly exclaim his excitement at how it turned out, the swelling in my head continued--"Great job, Scott! They sound great, and it looked amazing! Great job!"
- once the TV show started, we had only two fights to cover, but still plenty of work to do. I was running back and forth (in incredibly uncomfortable shoes), from the ring to the dressing rooms to the TV truck to the stage, never really getting a rest. I marched fighters into the ring, found an interpreter for a post-fight interview, collaborated with trainers and boxers to keep the schedule tight, and even got to mingle a little bit. Two big celebrity experiences here: the first was walking Salley over to the ringside seats to interview Deion, which went very well. Unfortunately, the producer kept getting in my ear and telling me "two more minutes," "five more minutes," so I had to keep telling Sal we were delayed, but fortunately, he and Deion were having a great time goofing around, so there were no ill effects. Secondly, during the Garcia fight, I had the opportunity to meet the director/executive producer of "Prison Break" and several of his cast, all in town through March to shoot the show in Dallas. The obvious standout of this group was Sarah (her real name and her character name), the doctor who falls for Michael (if you're unfamiliar with the show, just trust me, she's hot--big crush on her before I even got to meet her). We got to stand next to each other for about ten minutes, as it turned out, and I got to talk to her for a bit, getting her to discuss her love of sports (and even of boxing--she was pissed when they stopped the previous fight eatly) and the merits of Dallas (one of which was evidently the new Ghostbar, where we were supposed to go afterward--that's another story). Great time. I IMDB'd her when I got home and it turns out that she's exactly one day younger than me, so I think that means there's some potential there, right? Yeah, I didn't think so.
- Holyfield's fight was the obvious highlight of the night (Doctor Sarah excluded), and I had more to do for that than I could have imagined. The "money shot" was Holyfield's walk-out through a back-lit tunnel, where his silhouette gradually became his lit figure, the revealing of which brought the crowd to a frenzy and pretty much gave all of us chills. I was on the canvas for the introductions, helping with various stuff, and then went back a bit for the start of the fight. Sal and I were ready to go talk to a few more people at ringside, but when Bates was saved by the bell at the end of the first round, we knew it was going to be over quickly, so he headed back to the stage and I got ready ringside.
- once the knockout had happened (late second round), they took care of the post-fight interviews (my buddy Zeus threw an FSN cap on his head, so that was in all the photos across the country) and then I walked him from the ring to the dressing room, which was one of the crazier things I've ever done. You haven't lived until you've had thousands of people yelling and cheering in your face, leaning in to get a piece of the guy behind you, taking pictures and jumping up and down. Amazing. So we get him to the dressing room, Joel and I alongside his whole posse, and immediately the group forms a circle. We're not sure what's going on, but as everybody grabs hands, it's clear that we're in a prayer circle. Joel and I shrug at each other, turn down our headset volume (so producer Bob can't be heard for a few moments) and bow our heads in prayer. Pretty cool, actually. After the "amen," we let him get changed and then walked him over to the set, where he rapped with our guys for a few minutes until the show was off the air.
- after everything was done, we had a ton of work to do, breaking down the set, loading up the truck that would eventually carry all of our gear back to L.A., and then we were allowed to go out, but not before snapping a few photos, one with Duran and one with the Real Deal himself
- unfortunately, "out" did not mean the Ghostbar, where Doctor Sarah was waiting (Sal went too, so there would have been familiar company), but instead a place called the Candle Room, where local guy Mike's boys were hanging out. My friendship with Mike goes a few feet deeper than my thing for Sarah, so I wasn't that upset. We had a pretty good time there, as tired as we were, and even saw former Laker (and former every other NBA team) Jim Jackson, laying low in the booth next to us.
All in all, an exhausting trip, but probably the greatest professional experience of my life thus far. Hope it was even 2% as much fun to read about...

Things I Don't Understand

"Y'all better leave dat boy alone
Cuz if they dont
Yall know he goin come back on 'em
And they dont want him to come back strong
I wouldnt durr get that thur boy goin"
--Leave Dat Boy Alone, D-12

There are some things I will never understand. One of those is the appeal of poker on television, despite our network's marital commitment to the idea (and it really is a successful one, for some reason). Another of those is the concept of pitching to David Ortiz with the game on the line. Big Papi went yard in the bottom of the ninth last night, turning a two-run deficit into a three-run victory and ringing up his fifth game-winning hit of the season (three of which have been of the home run variety). Going back just a few years, let's remember that this guy was waived--WAIVED--by the Twins, who believed that he wasn't worth even a million dollars to keep around in 2003. So the Red Sox snagged him, and he hasn't stopped winning games ever since. He's hit seven walk-off home runs with the Sox (including the three this year), and his arrival on the walk-off scene pretty much came in the historic '04 playoffs, when he beat the Angels with a home run in the divisional series and then beat the Yankees twice on the same day with walk-off hits, beginning and then continuing the most amazing comeback in sports history (maybe--Frank Reich's Bills would argue that point).
More things I don't understand:
- How anyone could not be a Will Ferrell fan. Had a discussion about the Ricky Bobby movie yesterday, and there was actually somebody in the conversation who called him "overrated." No, that word is reserved for Peyton Manning, Dan Patrick and Penelope Cruz. Not Will Ferrell. From his bit parts in "Austin Powers", "Jay & Silent Bob..." and "Starsky & Hutch" to his lead roles in "Old School", "Anchorman" and even "Elf", he's really defined himself as the leading comic genius of this generation. Not sure when that era is going to end, but with "Old School 2" coming out at some point, and this NASCAR movie guaranteedt to be hilarious, there's certainly no end in sight.
- Why on earth O.J. Mayo would want to go to USC. Kevin Love coming to UCLA I understand--more tradition than any program in the country, and a recent return to prominence behind a tremendous head coach (plus Sonny Vaccaro feeds us all the good Adidas players). The Trojans? Under .500 in the Pac 10 last year (and 19-35 the three previous conference seasons), and boasting a head coach with mediocre NBA experience (he posted a glorious .284 winning percentage while he was there). Yes, they have a nice new building opening up next season, but if building quality was a determining factor in recruiting, the football team wouldn't get anybody at all (the Coliseum is surpassed in terribleness by only Stanford Stadium). If Mayo ends up at SC, even for just one season, I'll be very surprised. Of course, he's like 23, so I guess it'll be nice having a 25-year old freshman leading the way in '07-'08.
- Why more people haven't picked up on European soccer. One of my favorite Sports Guy columns of the past few years came out a couple weeks ago, detailing his decision-making process in finding a premier league team for which to root. My Newcastle boys finished third in the end, behind runner-up Liverpool and his new squad, Tottenham Hotspur (or "Spurs"), the former club of such greats as Paul Gascoigne, Jurgen Klinsmann (next USA coach?) and Teddy Sheringham. They're good, but they're no Newcastle. If you haven't read the article, it makes a great case for European football, especially the English variety, on the (back) heels of the World Cup. I needed no convincing, but it's still a good argument. And oh by the way, the world's richest club, Chelsea, have been practicing at UCLA all week and nobody cares.
- What on earth ESPN is doing (the Harold Reynolds edition). Yes, I know he harassed a P.A. (at Outback Steakhouse, of all places), but seriously, what on-air talent hasn't had a bout with the big SH at the worldwide leader? Legend has it that Mike Tirico is the all-time worst (I've heard more stories on this guy than I've ever cared to hear), and yet he's somehow still the voice of the NBA on ESPN/ABC and major golf tournaments. Doesn't take much, I guess. Meanwhile, HR was one of maybe three analysts I actually like watching on that network (Kirk Herbstreit and Peter Gammons being the others, but Kirk is out of season and PGammons is out of commission for now), and now he's free to go anywhere else, hopefully Fox, and hopefully soon. Their penchant for driving news stories (contrived or real) into the ground is sickening, and because there are so many outlets (SportsCenter, Baseball Tonight, NFL Live, Outside the Lines, all the radio shows, ESPNews, ESPN the Magazine, ESPN the constant headache), we're inundated with whatever blather they feel like unloading (T-O, Bonds, and A-Rod's recent saga come to mind). I liken ESPN's fall to that of MTV, where they've forgotten the reason they went on the air in the first place. Kevin & Bean were talking about MTV's 25th anniversary today, and one of them (never can tell which) made the joke that they stopped showing music videos 23 years ago. Exagerrated, but almost true. Meanwhile, SportsCenter has become less enjoyable by the day (with the notable exception of Scott Van Pelt) and the rest of their programming--don't even get me started (Dominos? Seriously?). I certainly don't claim that our show is going to win awards for journalistic excellence anytime soon, but we're not under any guise other than having a good time for an hour, whatever that means (and yes, hanging out with Hooters girls is definitely included).
- How summer television can suck as much as it does. My DirecTV is out this week, and except for "Entourage" (which I'll watch on repeat whenever my service returns), I don't even care. I can watch baseball on my computer, I've got enough Seinfeld episodes saved up to last me for a couple weeks, and there's pretty much nothing else I've even heard about that I'm missing. I guess they figure everyone's on vacation, so why bother with new shows, but I'm going on record in complete disagreement with this idea. Didn't "The O.C." come out in the summer? People (myself excepted) seem to love that show, so why wouldn't more shows try this? Oh well, just waiting for the fall--the return of "My Name is Earl" and "Prison Break" and the debut of "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip". By the way, the reason my DirecTV doesn't work is that painters came to my neighbors house and a) dislodged the dish from its working location and b) splattered paint all over the dish, which probably doesn't aid its ability to receive satellite signals. Not a word of this was mentioned to me, by either the neighbor or the painting crew (and it wasn't mentioned to my roommate either, since he's the one who's actually at home more than two hours a day), which is pretty disrespectful. I always try to look at the best in people and save judgment, but the neighbors have been a little tough to smile at the last few weeks.

Yeah, so that's about it for this Tuesday morning. Heading to Alabama this weekend for a fishing show, which should be very interesting, though we're including a few non-fishing guests to tailor it more to our style. Bo Jackson will be there, which will be one of my bigger guest-related thrills--I remember reading "Bo Knows Bo" when I was much younger and following closely his whole baseball/football career, the rise and fall. Besides MJ, I don't think there was another guy who made you say "Oh my goodness" (or some more colorful alternative) more often than Bo. His All-Star Game home run off Rick Reuschel, leading off the '89 game (he stole a base in that game too, and I still have the LA Times sports section with the Bo-related headline). His running up the wall after making a great catch in the outfield as a Royal. Breaking bats over his head and knee. Trucking Brian Bosworth on Monday Night Football on his way into the end zone, then running all the way into the tunnel on a super-long TD run in the same game. Going three for three with three home runs uin a random game, and then me having to leave home for a church event (so I called a buddy to check on his last at bat--no home run). Such a bummer that he couldn't play longer, but he still provided enough memories to last a lifetime. Can't wait for Friday (except for the humidity)...