10-YEAR ANNIVERSARY

On the 10th anniversary of the notorious Cotto-margarito fight, Elliot Worsell recalls some infamous instances of loaded gloves

A decade on from the infamous Miguel Cotto-antonio Margarito fight

AS A BOXER, YOU’RE GOING TO GET BRUISES, BUT I’D NEVER EXPERIENCED WELTS LIKE THOSE”

BACK in September 2001, Donald Trump repeatedly tapped the shoulder of Naazim Richardson inside a Madison Square Garden dressing room and, to his dismay, found his advances rebuffed. It was unusual for Trump, a notorious grabber, to be blanked, to not get what he wanted, but Richardson, otherwise engaged, wasn’t in the least bit interested.

That night the coach of Bernard Hopkins ignored The Donald, setting an example his country should years later have followed, and did so because he was busy, focused, fixated instead on the hands of Felix ‘Tito’ Trinidad and the two layers of tape and gauze being applied to them.

“The way Trinidad wrapped his hands was not illegal everywhere,” Richardson tells Boxing News. “It was only illegal in New York. He could wrap his hands like that in other states.

“He could have been an honourable guy. They might have been used to wrapping his hands a certain way in Vegas and other places and then came to New York and it wasn’t allowed. I just pointed out the fact it wasn’t allowed.”

With Trump having now left the room, Richardson was alerted to the fact he’d just cold-shouldered the future host of The Apprentice. “Hey, man,” said a bystander, “didn’t you hear Donald Trump? He was trying to talk to you.”

Richardson, true to form, shrugged, unimpressed by celebrity, even less impressed by the stench of foul play. “All I know is Donald Trump’s got nothing to do with these damn hand wraps,” he answered. “We will all stay in our lanes and we’ll be fine.”

Looking back, Richardson believes Trinidad’s team wanted him out of there, out of that room, by any means necessary. Failing that, they wanted to distract him. Dazzle him. But it didn’t work. ‘Brother’ Naazim held his ground, informed the commission Trinidad’s hands were incorrectly wrapped, according to the local rules, and then had the Puerto Rican, undefeated in 40 fights, start all over again and rewrap, this time with one layer of tape rather than two. “Bernard’s safety was too important,” Richardson says. “As a coach, you meet their kids, their parents, their wife. I want to give them back the way they came to me. Just the same way.” Britain’s Glenn Catley was never the same after a WBC super-middleweight title defence against Dingaan Thobela in Brakpan, South Africa, the year before Hopkins vs. Trinidad. This change had less to do with him relinquishing his title, thus pride being dented, and more to do with the impact of being smashed around the face for almost 12 rounds by someone holding a “glass ashtray”. “New gloves are like new shoes,” he explains. “They’re always a little tight and you’ve got to wear them in a bit before using them. I used to give them to my trainer and he’d wear them and open and close them for 20 minutes to make them looser and more pliable. “As soon as Thobela’s first jab landed, I wondered what the hell he had done to his gloves. I suspected foul play. I was scared of being hit after that first jab. “If you’ve been boxing 20-odd years, you know what a punch feels like, whether it lands on your face, your arms or your gloves. You get a feel for these things. But Thobela’s shots were like something I’d never experienced before. “The next morning, I noticed welts all over my face. I know, as a boxer, you’re going to get bruises and swelling, but I’d never experienced welts like those.” Before he revealed his suspicions to Chris Sanigar, his trainer, he simply stood before him and allowed him to draw his own conclusions. The image alone would suffice. “Look at my face, Chris,” ➤