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When a man wakes up in the morning, looks in the mirror and slaps on gasoline rather than aftershave, lighting a match around him is about as imprudent as leaning through the bars to feed a gnarling, half-starved tiger.
Someone should have told heavyweight contender Samuel Peter beforehand that he was about to share a line with a personality more prone to going up in flames than the Australian outback in mid-January.
But, then again, should it really be necessary to point out what colour the sky is or how many beers there are in a six-pack?
There have been natural disasters easier to ignore than James “Lights Out” Toney.
The majority of us know who he is. He’s been a professional boxer for longer than most people stay married. Journalists, fellow pugs and more than likely a few dozen extremely unfortunate door-to-door salesmen have all been on the receiving end of his vitriolic, sometimes playful tongue.
He can be as cruel as a Russian winter or as amiable as a Californian summer. Rage disintegrates into rich laughter in an eye blink. A beaming smile is swapped with a menacing scowl even faster than that.
If he were alive 50 million years ago, you’d probably find him up a tree flinging insults at a Tyrannosaurus rex. As a natural 160-pounder currently moonlighting as a heavyweight, it’s hard to imagine him being scared of any man or beast – no matter how big.
There is nothing politically correct about the Ann Arbor, Michigan native. He’s loud, brash and, with minimal effort it seems, can be rude and unforgivably crass. However, he may also be the most entertaining fighter to come along since a guy called Muhammad Ali.
He has been blessed with a rare and wonderful strand of charisma. The kind that consumes a room. That makes all eyes and ears belong to him.
One tends to think that if his disposition was just a little more Oscar De La Hoya and a little less Gangster Rapper, he could very well be the game’s biggest superstar. His thug persona, though, is very much an acquired taste.
His brilliant, verging on great career, however, demands our full respect. Or at the very least our undivided attention.
Those close to the sport in any way, shape or form, therefore, should know exactly what to expect from Toney, a former three weight world champion. Intimidation is his third fist and conflict, of both the verbal and physical variety, is his best friend. What’s more, he strives to be as up front about the fact as is humanly possible.
If Sammy didn’t know who James Toney was before he picked up the receiver, he knew when he put it down.
“Look, Samuel is a strong guy for the guys he has fought,” said Toney on a recent conference call when asked about his upcoming bout with Samuel Peter, which takes place on Saturday, Sept 2 at the STAPLES Center in Los Angeles. “But all the guys he fought were paid to lie down. You know that. I am the best fighter in the world. You know what I am saying? There isn’t a strategy. It is just me being me.”
Peter, 25, from Nigeria, will be the most dangerous opponent that the now 37-year-old Toney has ever faced. Well, that’s the sales pitch anyway. In reality, it will be a match-up between master craftsman and raw apprentice. By all rights, the old man should run rings around the young pretender. And he might very well.
But there is a potential plot twist. A morsel of intrigue, if you will. Peter, the natural heavyweight, has the ability to end matters with a single swing. He can’t outbox Toney. He may not even be able to outfight him. But maybe, just maybe he can find a home for one monstrous left hook. It could very well be all he needs.
However, perhaps he should have known better than to say as much in ear shot of Toney.
“I’m going to walk through him,” predicted Peter.
“Oh, I like that. Keep your promise,” retorted Toney, interrupting his upcoming foe.
“He is a very good fighter,” continued Peter, “but I know I am going to walk through him. He is not going to stop me, he is not going to crack me. I am going to walk through him.”
And that’s when things turned nasty.
“Sammy, you are getting knocked out…Speak English…I am going to send you back on a banana boat, punk.”
With the jibes coming thick and fast from Toney, a slightly stunned Peter was only able to respond by saying “shut up when Sammy is talking.” The American, though, was in full verbal flight.
“You’re scared. I own you. I am your master,” persisted Toney, who by now was more than a little aggravated. “I am the best heavyweight in the world, best fighter in the world. We put the challenge out to everybody. They stepped up and took it. They are going to regret it. Bottom line. I will fight anybody, anywhere, any time. I am big and bad as they come. I blow houses down.”
Anyone want to argue with him?
Courtesy www.frankmaloney.com
