By Paul Barker
03.09 - It was the American Dream, gone horribly, horribly wrong. A young boy slugs his way out of a third world ghetto and into the pro boxing stratosphere, only to fall victim to mental illness, depravity, and what some have labeled "demonic possession." No, I'm not talking about Mike Tyson, though you certainly could be forgiven for thinking so. I speak not of Mike but of Ike - Ike "The President" Ibeabuchi.
As a boy in Nigeria, Ike was exposed to boxing, but he was also exposed to poverty, crime, hopelessness, and a glaring lack of education. In 1993 he was able to immigrate with his mother to Dallas, Texas, where it did not take him long to hook up with the House of Champions Gym and former welterweight star Curtis Cokes. Cokes saw potential in the sizable young heavyweight, and was proven right when Ike became a Golden Gloves champion in the space of a year.
Ike turned pro shortly thereafter, impressing everyone with his strength, hand speed, and out-and-out skill. He never lost a contest, and within three years was challenging David "The Terminator" Tua for the WBC International Heavyweight Title.
This highly anticipated clash of undefeated heavies did not disappoint. In fact, it set a record for the number of punches thrown in a heavyweight fight. Against all odds, Ibeabuchi triumphed by majority decision. It should have been his finest hour, not the beginning of the end.
Yet, clearly, Ike was never the same after this fight. Had he taken too many of Tua's heavy left hooks to the head? Or, as some folks claim, had one specific shot -administered by Tua at some point in the middle rounds - done the damage? For the first time ever, Ike was complaining of head pain after a bout. A MRI scan, however, revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
Whether or not the epic slugfest with Tua was to blame, Ike Ibeabuchi was fast becoming unglued. In a pathetic incident of what we now call "air rage," cops had to forcibly detain the incensed pugilist. He began to make ludicrous monetary demands of his promoters. He was tormented by demons visible only to his mother and himself. Much of his lunacy was reserved for his hapless sparring partners; one's head was split open, another almost had his leg broken.
A few months after the Tua fight, Ike abducted the son of a former girlfriend, threw him into his car, and drove straight into a concrete pillar, permanently injuring the poor boy. This atrocity earned Ike a paltry two months behind bars, but he was forced to pay an undisclosed amount of money to the boy's mother.
Incredibly, Ibeabuchi was permitted to continue boxing, where his madness seemed to work for him. He tore apart journeymen Tim Ray and Everton Davis, and became the first (and, so far, the only) man to stop "Rapid Fire" Chris Byrd. One thunderous left hook in the fifth round had Byrd down twice, and a subsequent barrage of power punches prompted the referee to put an end to the fight.
A few months later, Ike summoned a lap dancer to his hotel room at The Mirage in Las Vegas. The girl insisted on a cash payment up front, which enraged Ike to the extent that he forced her into a closet and raped her. The 6'2", 245 lb fighter brilliantly sought to evade capture by hiding in the bathroom; a few strategically directed shots of police-issue pepper spray managed to "flush" him out of there.
Ibeabuchi was subsequently sentenced to a whole heap of jail time for this misdeed, although rumors are circulating that various lawyers - who just happen to be fight fans - are working pro bono for his early release. They are reasonably confident that he will be out in six months to a year, despite his being anything but a model prisoner.
Ibeabuchi's life story and Tyson's read the same. Both boxers A) grew up more or less destitute B) rose to dizzying heights as heavyweight bangers with finesse C) drove their autos into inert objects D) allegedly assaulted several women E) cited mental illness as the reason for their idiotic hijinks and, F) spent most of their respective primes behind bars. It remains to be seen, of course, whether Ibeabuchi can mount as effective a comeback as his counterpart. At twenty-nine years of age, time has certainly not run out on him.
Just how good was Ike Ibeabuchi? As a boxer, that is. Well, let's see… In 1997 he stood toe-to-toe with one of the most powerful punchers in heavyweight history, and emerged utterly victorious in the eyes of the judges. In 1999, he ensnared and summarily obliterated the slickest little stinker in heavyweight history. At the time he was being led from the Mirage in handcuffs, he was the number two heavyweight in the eyes of the IBF, and had just wrangled a three-fight deal with HBO for well over a million smackeroos. His boxing record is every bit as impressive as his prison record: 20 - 0, with 15 KO's.
Strange though this saga certainly has been (and it ain't over yet), I feel like renaming the article "The TRAGIC case of Ike Ibeabuchi." It's been tragic for Ike, and perhaps infinitely more tragic for the heavyweight division.
