JOHN CONTEH lived a crazy life on both sides of the ropes during his remarkable career.
At the start of October, it was the 40th anniversary of Conteh winning the WBC light-heavyweight title and it went under most radars. In 1974, it was front- and back-page news.
It is quite amazing that nobody has made a movie about John’s life and times. A brief look at his record tells a lot of stories, raises a lot of questions and an hour with the man can be incredible.
His Muhammad Ali tales can hold an audience, the twists and cruel turns during his career are heartbreaking and the personal darkness can be shocking. Conteh lived every moment of his life to the very fullest – and that is not always a good thing. And he could really fight.
In the ring he was exceptional, a man with a genuine claim to be Britain’s best. In his 10-year career he lost four times in 39 fights and battled demons when he was not fighting giants.
It was Ali, one night in Las Vegas, who told Conteh to stay out of the heavyweight division. It might have been 1973 and it might have been an hour or so after Conteh had beaten Terry Daniels in seven rounds on an Ali undercard. Daniels had, in the previous 13 months, lost a world title fight to Joe Frazier and lost on points to Jose Roman and Cleveland Williams. “You’re too pretty,” Ali told Conteh. Hey, who cares if it is true; Conteh left the heavyweight division, lost a few pounds and was a light-heavyweight again.
Just 28 days later, Conteh was down at light-heavyweight and won the European title at the Empire Pool. The boxing world was lunatic back in the Seventies. Two wins over Chris Finnegan in bloody epics followed and then the world title shot against Argentina’s Jorge Ahumada – he was far more than just a “tough Argie”.
Conteh fought nine times between February 1973 and October 1974. He met good men, in real fights: Tom Bogs, Rudiger Schmidtke, Vicente Rondon and even an odd return to heavyweight to beat Les Stevens one night at the Royal Albert Hall.
The training camp for the Ahumada fight meant a few afternoons at the Cafe Royal – there was a small fee to watch – and a swim in the morning in the ponds on Parliament Hill Fields. George Francis had a gym packed with dangerous men and that was where the real work was done. Conteh had close to a five-month break before the Ahumada fight and that was rare. He needed it; Conteh was only 23 on the night he walked out to face Ahumada on October 1, 1974 at the Empire Pool.
Ahumada was from Argentina but had fought 10 of his previous 11 fights at either the Felt Forum or the main room at Madison Square Garden. He was a Garden man and that carried weight. The one fight during that time not to have taken place at the iconic New York venue, was in June of 1974 when Ahumada travelled to Albuquerque to fight Bob Foster for the WBC light-heavyweight title. Foster was the king, arguably the greatest light-heavyweight in history; at the end of 15 rounds, it was a split draw. Foster relinquished, Ahumada and Conteh was made.
“You have no idea what that was like in there,” Conteh told people at the end of the 15-round fight. There are versions of this story, harrowing accounts of John sitting and going over the fight, his cheeks wet with tears. In the modern business, it’s possible that we would have said he had a breakdown after the Ahumada win. The fight was brutal, one of those nights in the smoke-filled arena when the gloves darken as the blood and sweat stains the knuckle part.
Conteh won the WBC light-heavyweight title on points and every round was hard. Life away from the ring, however, was no escape for Conteh.
John Conteh made three defences in the next three years and then lost the title outside the ring. There are so many wild stories about the decline and fall of Conteh and I’m sure that some are even true.
In early 1975, Conteh was back at the Empire Pool and stopped American Lonnie Bennett in five bloody rounds. Then, there is a non-title fight in Scranton and that is where Conteh’s fragile hands suffer.
His second defence is two years after winning the title and it takes place in Copenhagen; Conteh beats Yaqui Lopez on points after 15 rounds. There is turmoil in Conteh’s life. In early 1977, Conteh makes his third and final defence when he stops Len Hutchinson in the third at the Stadium in Liverpool. It is another bloody fight, headbutts, ugliness and disputes away from the ring – it is also the end of Conteh as the world light-heavyweight champion. The freefall starts, but Conteh is still a force, he is still one of the world’s best fighters. And he is only 25 when his reign is over, and the real madness begins.
The rest of John Conteh’s boxing life is often hard to believe. The night behind the old, old Iron Curtain in Belgrade to fight Mate Parlov for his WBC belt is the stuff of legend. The corruption, the evil, the disgrace; Conteh lost a split in the most hostile environment ever.
The two fights against Matthew Saad Muhammad for the WBC title in Atlantic City in 1979 and 1980 are quite amazing. They will take your breath away; Conteh had been to the sport’s darkest and most savage places at that point and Muhammad was quality. Conteh loses both, the first is heroic. In the rematch, Conteh gets up five times in the fourth round and is finally saved when he goes down for a sixth time. Conteh also had guts.
