Tuesday, Sept. 10, 2002 | 9:40 a.m.
Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at [email protected] or (702) 259-4084.
Trendsetter is not a word that has ever been linked to Don King, or Lennox Lewis for that matter.
But I think they're on to something that could change the way many people in the world of sports do business. They're at the tip of the iceberg for what could be the Next Big Thing.
King, the vociferous boxing promoter, and Lewis, the understated heavyweight champion, are neither bosom buddies nor dinner companions. But they share a love of money that links them in a peculiar endeavor that is in the midst of redefining the concepts of altruism.
King has paid Lewis $1 million (and thrown in a fancy vehicle, to boot) to relinquish his International Boxing Federation championship, so that King can initiate a hand-picked, four-man tournament for the vacant title.
To Lewis, who also has the World Boxing Council championship, the IBF belt is a meaningless assortment of baubles and leather that's not worth the bother of defending. But to King it's a prize he can use to generate further riches.
How could Lewis not have accepted the offer? It's the Dire Straits come to life: "Money for nothing" hums along in his head even if he's oblivious to its accompanying "chicks for free."
Imagine having a million bucks hand delivered to your door with no strings attached, no tasks to complete, even no papers to be signed. "Thanks," Lewis could say to the courier, "give Mr. King my regards."
Seldom has a single individual done so little for so much.
But where does this end? If a heavyweight champion can be bought off, what's to prevent the Atlanta Braves from paying the Arizona Diamondbacks to skip the National League playoffs? Or the Yankees from assuring themselves a World Series berth by throwing a few bucks the A's way?
Endless scenarios could ensue, each with cash changing hands and all resulting in champions who may not be as worthy as they are well-financed. If you think it's already possible to buy your way to the top, consider the possibilities with money as the sole axis.
"Chump change," King might say of forking over $1 million for the right to promote at least three fights that figure to generate several million in revenue, as he tinkers with a series that will include Roy Jones Jr. vs. World Boxing Association champion John Ruiz as well as Evander Holyfield vs. Chris Byrd, with the winners advancing to a final with the IBF title at stake.
Those fights, targeted for Las Vegas this winter, splinter the heavyweight division yet with Lewis coming across as a reluctant warrior, change was inevitable. He didn't want to fight the congenial but tedious Byrd, the IBF's mandatory challenger, and argued that the public wasn't intrigued by it either.
He's probably right, and this way he can go on to someone with greater clout -- one of the Klitschko brothers, perhaps? -- while softening the loss of the IBF belt with an array of pricey trinkets.
Lewis, who turned 37 last week, has become a Golden Oldie. And while he once toiled to procure the IBF hardware and valued its possession, in time he saw it as anything but the indispensable heirloom that others do.
So he cast it aside, albeit for a ransom of sorts with King conducting the auction.
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