Ismael Garcia, Greg Pickrom, Tim Ray and Chris Byrd were all defeated by Ike Ibeabuchi. Luke G. Williams spoke to the quartet, whose varied lives and experiences vividly capture the triumphs and tragedies – large and small – that define heavyweight boxing…
Every boxer has a story to tell.
From heady tales of world title glory to ‘coulda, woulda shoulda’-style hard luck narratives, the sport encompasses the full gamut of human emotions and vicissitudes.
A high profile boxer’s career inevitably intersects with many other lives, and the professional career of Ikemefula Charles Ibeabuchi was no different.
Before the Nigerian’s 20-0 (15 KOs) CV was prematurely curtailed by a combination of turbulent mental illness and outrageously criminal behaviour, ‘The President’ was on the verge of a world title challenge, having famously demolished the unbeaten records of David Tua and Chris Byrd.
The other 18 men on Ibeabuchi’s CV were somewhat more anonymous, but – as I discovered while researching my forthcoming biography of the still incarcerated 47-year-old – no less colourful.
Here, then, are the stories of four boxers who met ‘The President’ in the prize ring and whose lives and careers were never quite the same again.
***
Ismael Garcia – now in his mid-50s and enjoying life as a grandfather in his hometown of San Antonio, Texas – only fought once as a professional pugilist. He must have done something to piss off the boxing Gods though because that fight was against Ike Ibeabuchi.
Ibeabuchi vs Garcia appeared midway down the bill on an anonymous fight card in Shreveport, Louisiana, on Thursday October 13, 1994. It was not only Garcia’s pro debut, but also Ibeabuchi’s.
And the fight nearly ended in disaster for the Nigerian. But more of that later…
I tracked down Garcia and he shared his memories of his two-round defeat. “I had boxed in the Golden Gloves and the amateurs,” he explained. “I had about 40 fights. Then I started coaching kids and quit. By ’94, I hadn’t boxed in five or six years. But my old trainer called and said: ‘Hey, we can get you a fight against a guy in his first pro fight’. I only got to train for three or four days.”
Ibeabuchi vs Garcia wasn’t televised, and contemporary reports contain scant detail, so we have to rely on Garcia’s word for it, but the Texan maintains Ibeabuchi was within a whisker of disqualification.
“I stunned him in the first round,” Garcia said, of an early ‘Sliding Doors’ moment in the Nigerian’s career. “I remember seeing it in his eyes. After the bell, I turned to walk to my corner and he hit me on the back of the head. I had quite a few amateur fights and that was the first time I’d seen stars.
“The referee wanted to disqualify him for hitting after the end of the round. But my coach said, ‘No, no! He’ll be alright!’ But the next round I was still dazed. He came out, started punching me and the fight was stopped. I would have given him a run for his money if I’d never been hit on the back of the head.”
The severity of the punch – in a way – ensured Garcia never fought again.
Future opponent Greg Pickrom was also on the card.
“I think I got about $800 for that fight, but was it worth it? No it wasn’t. I could have been killed. I had four kids. I was working two jobs. Boxing was more of a pastime for me. If you’re going to fight at professional level you’ve got to train. You can’t live a normal life having sex with the wife and so on.”
Nevertheless, Garcia harbours no grudges against Ibeabuchi.
“He became a great fighter. I wish I could have had another chance against him, but I don’t take anything away from him. But yeah, that could easily have been his first defeat. There’s always maybes and what-ifs in boxing.”
At first glance, Garcia may fit the stereotype of a hard-luck boxing narrative, but the San Antonio man refuses to be bitter. Quite the reverse, in fact, for he credits boxing with turning his life around.
“I came from an abusive family and boxing saved me. If it hadn’t been for boxing I might have been like everyone else who comes from a dysfunctional family. When I was 15 or 16, I didn’t care about life because of everything that had happened to me.
“Then I got into boxing. After that I met a great woman, had children. I realised you don’t have to repeat everything that happened to you. You can try to be a better person. I’ve been very blessed. I have four wonderful children. I thank God for everything.”
***
Greg Pickrom could have been a contender.
Like Ibeabuchi, the Louisiana-born, Texas-raised fighter turned pro in 1994, in his case “after doing some jail time”. Pickrom spurned the chance to sign with Main Events, then among the most influential promoters in the world, and instead allied with Cedric Kushner, who also promoted Ibeabuchi.
“[Trainer] Ronnie Shields told me later: ‘Man, if you’d have signed with Main Events you’d have been heavyweight champion,’” a rueful Pickrom, now 51, tells me from Las Vegas where he has worked for the past 15 years as the yard manager of a salvage auto auction company.
‘Kid Chocolate’ possessed all the attributes required to make it to the top. He was fast and skilful, too.
But there was a problem. People said Pickrom had stamina issues, because once he got past the first few rounds he would almost invariably tire. Often shockingly so.
Ibeabuchi beat him in a crossroads fight for both men in September 1995. Both were undefeated going into the bout, which was televised on Kushner’s Heavyweight Explosion platform. Pickrom edged the first two rounds before exhaustion set in and Ibeabuchi halted him in the third.
Pickrom rebounded to win five on the trot but four losses in his next five (including one against John Ruiz) put an end to his world title dreams. He searched desperately for an answer for why he always felt exhausted after two or three rounds. But only in retirement did he discover the answer.
“After my last fight, I discovered I had hypoglycaemia,” he said. “It was starting to hit me in the fight with Ike. That’s why I was on the ropes when he caught me. I was winning easy before that. Throughout my career, I never knew when exhaustion was gonna hit me. Then I moved from Houston to Vegas, my wife’s doctor gave me the right test and boom! There it was! I tried to make a comeback but I tore my Achilles and that put an end to it. Sometimes your body lets you know it’s over.”
Impressively, Pickrom is only man to have ever knocked Ibeabuchi down – although, frustratingly for him, the referee failed to record it as a knockdown.
“In the first round I hit him [with a right hand], he touched down [on one knee],” Pickrom sighed. “[Ibeabuchi’s trainer] Curtis Cokes told me: “That weren’t no slip, it was a knockdown’, and he was right. It was a knockdown.”
Pickrom also insists that another former opponent – John Ruiz – owes him a beer or two. “He became a heavyweight champion thanks to me!” he chuckled. “I was sparring with Evander [Holyfield] before their fight and ended up busting Evander’s ear drum so his equilibrium was off. It was only four days before the fight so he couldn’t back out and Ruiz went on and won.”
So how has Pickrom kept his life together, despite the disappointment of a career that fell short of his lofty ambitions?
“In the end it’s who you are,” he shrugged. “I know people that are millionaires but steal from stores. If that’s who you are, it’s who you are.
“Boxing taught me you need discipline. I had a good run. It was fun. I definitely should have been a world champion. Everyone has an Achilles heel – hypoglycaemia was mine and it just wasn’t caught soon enough.
“I have a 22-year-old, a 20-year-old and a three-year-old boy. All boys. I’ve always loved kids. They are drawn to me for whatever reason. I’m happy.”
***
Tim Ray’s pro career began in august company.
“Jimmy Ellis was in my corner for my first pro fight [in April 1995] and Muhammad Ali was sat in the front row,” the 55-year-old recalled in his southern drawl. “I won by first-round knockout too, so I couldn’t have started better!”
Like Ali, Ray hails from Louisville, Kentucky. He has the same birthday as ‘The Greatest’ and met him on several occasions.
“Everybody knows the name Muhammad Ali,” Ray reflected. “He was the most popular guy in the world, I would say. I met him a few times. He would come into the gym. He’d shadow box, we’d play around, he’d tell jokes.”
A rough, tough, all-action brawler who entered boxing via the Toughman circuit, Ray assembled a 14-20-2 career over nearly eight years, facing a collection of accomplished opponents including Ibeabuchi, Monte Barrett and Shannon Briggs.
“My left hook always took care of matters if I could catch you with it,” Ray said. “They used to say I hit like Tyson but I never felt it myself so I don’t know. In my last Toughman championship, I had to fight seven times and I had six knockouts with 16oz gloves and headgear on.
“I’m no badass or anything but I’d fight anyone. I never cared who. They’d call me up and say, ‘Will you fight him?’ and I’d say, ‘Heck yeah!’ If you get the money right I’d fight anybody. Ibeabuchi, Briggs, folks like that. I’d go toe to toe. My motto was: ‘I can take your punch, can you take mine?’ Sometimes I couldn’t take theirs, I guess. But I never really got knocked right out – it was mostly TKOs.”
After a spell in jail, Ibeabuchi faced Ray in a comeback fight in July 1998. “He was a real nice guy,” Ray recalled. “The next morning he brought me a newspaper with me and him in and had me sign it for him. I got one and had him sign it for me.
“I heard he’d tried to kill someone or whatever – but there were no signs [of anything strange] when I met him. He would have been world champion if he hadn’t gone a little crazy or whatever they said he did.”
Ray enjoyed boxing, but it was hard graft outside of the ring that made him financially and emotionally stable.
“I own a car lot. Me and my wife also own a house cleaning business. We live pretty comfortably. We paid our house off two weeks ago – that was a good accomplishment. A $250,000 house and we paid it off in 14 years.”
Ray seems a picture of contentment and has a simple answer when I enquire what separates him from Ibeabuchi, still languishing in jail, or Ray’s troubled old sparring partner Oliver McCall.
“Seems every fighter with talent and fame always messes up,” he mused. “Whether it’s drugs, or some law problem or something.”
The ‘StingRay’ then gave another reason why he has always kept on the straight and narrow.
“A strong wife,” he laughed. “We’ve been married 29 years. She’s a really good person. And she’s up my ass every day!”
***
Garcia, Pickrom and Ray all managed to surmount any regret they might have about their boxing careers.
Ike Ibeabuchi has not found it so easy.
When he was briefly paroled from prison in late 2014 he launched plans for an audacious comeback, telling me: “I have unfinished business in boxing… Most people might think I should have retired by now, but I haven’t been a world champion. To me that is an insult, so I have to redeem myself. I want to be a world champion, before day turns to dusk.”
If he is ever released again, I have no doubt ‘The President’ will attempt another comeback.
The case of Ibeabuchi’s old foe Chris Byrd is arguably even more concerning. After being brutalised by the Nigerian in five rounds in 1999, the Flint native rebounded to become a two-time heavyweight champion, winning WBO and IBF belts.
On retiring in 2009, it seemed Byrd had nothing left to prove and was aware of the pitfalls of aged fighters trying to turn back the clock. Indeed, when he heard Ibeabuchi was attempting a comeback in 2015 he told me: “Age catches up with everybody. I don’t care who you are.”
Now, however, Byrd has changed his tune.
Having turned 50, he has insisted he is on a mission to become world champion in the weight class he won a silver medal in at the 1992 Olympics – middleweight.
“I said to myself three years ago, I’m going to do this,” Byrd told me in September. “I’m going to come back to boxing and shock the world again, like when I won two heavyweight titles. When I originally went up to heavyweight everyone said: ‘You’re going to get killed, man!’
“Now they’re saying I’m too old and ‘You’re gonna get killed man!’ Like I’m a little kid. I’m 50 years old and people are still acting like I’m a little fucking kid. They say to me: ‘Who’s advising you! They should tell you not to fight, man!’
“I say: ‘Who am I listening to? I’m listening to my heart. I know I can still do it. I know the risks. Everyone says: ‘Oh he needs the money’, but I don’t need shit. What I need is to win that middleweight title to complete my life.
“I feel like nothing is complete. I can’t die knowing I didn’t get a chance to fight in my real weight class.”
***
What odds Ibeabuchi and Byrd find the peace of mind and contentment that Garcia, Pickrom and Ray currently enjoy?
It’s not a wager I would lay.
Like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Jay Gatsby, always striving to reach the green light across the bay, the duo look destined to see out the rest of their lives reaching, grasping, striving for a dream that forever remains elusive.
“Boats against the current,” Fitzgerald might have called them, “borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
‘President of Pandemonium: The Mad World of Ike Ibeabuchi’ by Luke G. Williams will be published next year by Hamilcar Noir.