A Case Of Setting Them Up For The Kill

When an international gang of boxers came to Havana two weeks ago the Cubans greeted them warmly. They were pleasant hosts, considerate and thoughtful companions—and if it had not been for one small item, a smashing good time would have been had by all: in the boxing ring the Cubans pretty much beat the stuffing out of everybody.

At the conclusion of the first World Amateur Boxing Championship last Friday night, Cuba had won five of the 11 gold medals and one silver. The Russians, always formidable in the amateur ring, collected only two golds and two silvers. And the U.S. team, missing four or five of its best boxers, did surprisingly well with one gold and two silvers.

For all their friendliness, the 17,000 spectators didn't overdo the considerate host bit, especially when the U.S. was involved. For example, even though Russia came into the finals with a chance of beating Cuba in the team standings—and the Cubans could therefore be excused for rooting against them—there were only tepid cheers when New York's Howard Davis, a 17-year-old 125-pounder, won a split decision over Soviet favorite Boris Kuznetsov. A chorus of derisory whistles greeted Welterweight Clinton Jackson when he stepped up to face Emilio Correa, a popular hometown veteran. And the same sort of welcome was afforded U.S. Heavyweight Marvin Stinson, who took on Teofilo Stevenson, Cuba's Olympic champion.

Unaffected by his reception, Davis personally dashed any hope that Russia might have held for the team title by pecking Kuznetsov to pieces with a flickering left hand mixed with an occasional countering right. Davis' appearance was as bristling as his style: he fights with his Afro done up in pigtails, which bounced wildly in the bright ring lights, giving him the look of an enraged porcupine.

Kuznetsov had been cut over the left eye in a semifinal bout two days before, and one of Davis' countering rights knocked the packing out of the cut. It stood out grotesquely for a few moments before Davis belted it loose and the cut began to bleed again. It bled off and on throughout the fight but did not impair the Russian's vision and had nothing to do with the outcome.

Jackson, the 21-year-old Tennessean, elected to stand up and slug with Correa. He had some luck with this tactic in the first round, but fighting on the inside with the tough, battle-hardened Cuban was a mistake. Correa began catching Jackson with heavy right hands as the third round began; he knocked him down in the middle of the round and knocked him out just before it ended.

This outcome prompted happy delirium in the stands. Even the guards, who had been standing immobile and serious, howled with glee, and one of them, overcome by the glory of it all, staggered around in imitation of Jackson's plight, evoking a fresh storm of laughter.

But no one laughed at Stinson. The mighty Stevenson came into the fight under a bit of a cloud: he had been unable to knock out a 37-year-old Nigerian in an earlier bout. And while he tried to make up for it in the Friday final he failed to even discomfort Stinson, although he won a predictable decision.

Stinson is a small heavyweight with an uncanny resemblance to Floyd Patterson in size, build, peek-a-boo style and features. Unhappily he lacks the quick hands and punching power that marked Patterson at his peak. Still, he forced the fight against Stevenson, making the 6'3", 220-pound Cuban miss again and again. Stinson moved and jabbed and ducked under Stevenson's fearsome right hooks, and occasionally tagged Stevenson with a right hook of his own. Stinson looked like a small dog plaguing a mastiff and he got away with it. In one round Stevenson hit him a glancing blow with a right and caught him a few times with left hooks, but Stinson was never in danger and Stevenson was never very impressive.

This was the first world amateur championship outside the Olympics, and the Cubans handled the presentation superbly. The fights were staged in the Sports City Coliseum, a bright, air-conditioned arena decorated with a billboard-size painting of Che Guevara and dozens of giant photographs showing Stevenson battering Duane Bobick into submission at the Munich Olympics. Indeed, Bobick may be the most widely recognized U.S. athlete in all Cuba, since he appears in his unenviable role as a punching bag in pictures all over the city.