Boxing Coverage updated 24/7 at MaxBoxing.com

Today's Boxing Press

Sign Up To MaxBoxing

Three’s a Crowd: The Boxing Referee
By Brett Conway (Dec 5, 2006)

Send this page to friend

Give us your feedback

Sometimes the star of a boxing show is not the challenger or the champion but the third man in the ring, the referee. This doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. When Charley Burley fought Fritzie Zivic in their rubber match in Pittsburgh in the summer of 1939, fans were wowed by the presence of Art Donovan, the most famous referee of his era.

In his book Charley Burley, Allen S. Rosenfeld quotes one sports writer commenting on this fascination: “Arthur Donovan, the leading referee of boxing today, was critically watched by the fans, many of whom were attracted to the show by the fact that he was to officiate. They scrutinized his every move, down to the habit of wiping his hands on his shirt every time he broke the fighters from a clinch.”

The referee, usually forgotten, can sometimes in the right circumstances remind us that he takes up as much space physically as the boxers he is officiating. He just doesn’t take up the same amount of space in the mind of the spectators, especially if they have money or emotions riding on the fight’s outcome.

The boxing referee has more power than referees in many other sports. Whereas professional sports like hockey, baseball, basketball, and football all use a team of officials, the boxing referee acts alone. After the formality of pre-fight instructions, the referee can sit back and decide the tempo of the fight. He can break clinches early or late; he can tell the fighters to pick up the pace; he can call fouls; or he can just let everything go. For some, the most interesting function of the referee is the Ruby Goldstein embrace he gives a fighter after a knockout ends a bout. He reassures him, like a father to his son, that although he has lost the fight and may have been taking a serious beating, he is safe now.

In the ring, the referee generally holds absolute authority. Just consider the New York State Athletic Commission Boxer/Promoter contract. It states “the contestants to this bout acknowledge and consent to all decisions rendered by the Referee(s).” So even though the referee wields this authority and knows the fighter must tremble and obey, he also knows that with absolute power comes absolute responsibility. He might listen to ringside doctors and yells from the crowd to stop the fight or gestures from fighters to step in as Larry Holmes did so humanely when he fought Marvis Frazier. But like the existential hero, he must act alone, and he must render decisions with care, especially if they go against a Lou Duva or Norman Stone fighter.

Like all followers of boxing, the referee might have his favorites, so he must be careful not to play them, even unconsciously. He must be sure to remain neutral. After referee Carlos Padilla in Manila warned the aging dervish Muhammad Ali in the first round for holding Joe Frazier’s head, he didn’t offer another warning or take points away despite Ali repeating this action dozens of times throughout the fight. Instead, he simply reached over and removed his gloved fist from the back of Frazier’s head. Did this subtle favortism for Ali cost Frazier the fight? That’s up for the pundits sitting on barstools to decide. But given the aftermath, Padilla probably did the right thing. After all, who would’ve wanted another Frazier and Ali bout even if Frazier had won the third fight? I think there isn’t anyone that sadistic, but if there is, may he be banished to one of Dante’s seven circles of hell.

Padilla’s influence was subtle. But sometimes referees more directly influence the outcome of the fight. Did referee Richard Steele act appropriately when he stopped the Meldrick Taylor-Julio Caesar Chavez lightweight bout with three seconds remaining in the twelfth after Taylor, well ahead on points, rose up off the canvas on shaky legs? Chavez who retained his undefeated record thought so. Taylor and his team – howling Lou Duva especially – didn’t think so. They believed he was deprived of a victory. And until stepping down from refereeing in 2001, Steele was deprived of many high profile fights and received many boos from fans whenever he was announced as the referee. The thing is, Steele did his job. He stopped the fight because Taylor, distracted by Duva’s jumping up on the ring apron, did not answer Steele’s question. “Are you alright? Are you alright?” Taylor as did not “consent” to Steele’s decision to ask him this question. Whether the referee is Richard Steele or Cartman from South Park, a fighter must respect his authority.

Although both Padilla and Steele maintained their authority in the fights mentioned above, some aren’t so lucky. One fight more than any other shows how a referee can completely give it up. When Ali knocked Liston down with a counter right hand square on the cheekbone in their rematch in 1965, referee Jersey Joe Walcott, one-time heavyweight champion of the world, lost control of the situation. Ali ran around the ring like a madman, Liston lolled around on the canvas like a tire on the waves, and Walcott lost track of the count. Deeming that Liston got up before he counted ten, Walcott allowed the fight to continue but left his post when editor of Ring magazine beckoned him over, whispered in his ear that Liston was down for thirteen seconds, and compelled Walcott through his own authority as the dean of boxing writers to stop the fight. Unfortunately, they forgot about the neutral corner rule and the lessons of Dempsey-Tunney II.

This “tradition” of controversial refereeing decisions still continues today. Every boxing fan has seen a boxing match where a referee has made a bad call. Sometimes it may be a question of whether the referee broke up clinches too early or too late; of whether he should or shouldn’t prevent blows to the back of the head; of whether he stopped a fight so soon. But sometimes they enter the spooky Jersey Joe Walcott realm. When this happens, the referee might have to respond to an outlandish situation.

Mills Lane, stopping the rematch between Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield despite the financial upside for boxing to let the fighting continue, was fair. (I won’t make any ear jokes. They would be corny.) Or he might create one of his own. Last weekend, referee Laurence Cole told bleeding Juan Manuel Marquez that he could quit and still win on the scorecards – not be TKOed. This was blatantly unfair since the referee should know nothing about the scores, should not be influencing a fighter’s tactics – especially if they involve quitting – and should look out for both contestants, Marquez and the spirited Philippine fighter Jimrex Jaca, equally. Cole acted like a football referee signalling the end of the fourth quarter with five minutes remaining.

Sometimes even the best referees make blunders, though. One of the top referees today is Jay Nady. He earned much respect when he stopped the Tszyu-Judah fight after Judah was dropped after a Tszyu right and again when he tried to rise. After the stoppage, Judah was crazed and went after the referee who, to his credit, remained stoic. This was a great moment for Nady. Nady, however, blew it a few weeks ago. His telling Floyd Mayweather, one of the top pound-per-pound fighters around, what a great champion he was during dressing room instructions was unfair, for Mayweather wasn’t the welterweight champion – Argentinean Carlos Baldomir was – and it gave Mayweather a bit of a boost knowing the referee is on his side. In that situation, Nady should’ve stuck to officiating and not commentary. (Although I imagine Floyd Mayweather is now petitioning HBO to replace Larry Merchant with him.)

Referees must be absent-presences in the ring, letting fighters do their jobs and only intervening to make results concord with what happens in the ring; not shape results to fit some preconceived notion of what should happen or who or what they think the fighter they are refereeing is.

In her book On Boxing, Joyce Carol Oates calls the referee a “shadow,” “a ghostly presence,” flitting in and out of view as he passes across the frame of the fight. He is usually forgotten but sometimes he is remembered. Sometimes he is remembered in a good light like Mills Lane stopping the Holyfield-Tyson rematch; sometimes he is remembered ambivalently like Richard Steele stopping the Taylor-Chavez fight; but sometimes he is blamed for a fight result as Jersey Joe Walcott was when he stopped the Ali-Liston rematch in the first round. Like all ghosts, the boxing referee is best when after the fight, fans discuss the fight, the result, and the fighters. That is to say, he is best when he remains invisible.