By Norm Frauenehim –
LAS VEGAS — He’s unbeaten.
Mostly unknown, too.
Trevor McCumby’s circuitous route in boxing started with the unlimited promise that is attached to a leading prospect. Then, there was controversy. But never a loss.
Then, there was a long stretch of not knowing what’s next. Still, no loss. His boxing career just went dark. He worked construction. He thought about joining the Army.
“I wanted to serve my country,’’ McCumby said. “If I had, it would have been a four-year commitment. I wouldn’t be here right now, that’s for sure’’
McCumby would have been answering the bugler’s reveille call. He would be living in barracks instead of the gym. But another opening bell awaits him, one he’ll answer Saturday night in a steep challenge against former super-middleweight champion Caleb Plant on the Canelo Alvarez-Edgar Berlanga pay-per-view card at T-Mobile Arena.
McCumby, a Chicago native who lives in Glendale AZ these days, is finally in a position he envisioned years ago. Then, he was a celebrated prospect. What could go wrong? It’s a stupid question, of course. It wouldn’t be boxing without the adversity created by a loss. Other than the modern examples of Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Andre Ward, most records have at least one. It’s part of the lesson plan. Part of growing up.
But McCumby’s record doesn’t include one. He is 31-years old, way past the prospect stage and presumably in his prime with a startling 28-0 with 21 knockouts. Yet, he’s fought only three times — twice in Phoenix where he launched his comeback and once in Florida — since he won his 25th fight in 2018.
McCumby was more than idle. He was gone, virtually forgotten. That leaves questions. Despite that unbeaten ledger, there’s uncertainty among fans about McCumby and his chances against the battle-tested Plant , who delivered a gutsy performance in a scorecard loss to the feared David Benavidez in March 2023.
McCumby sounds confident and appears relaxed despite the predictable trash talk from Plant, always edgy. Plant (22-2, 13 KOs), known for his confrontations inside the ropes and outside on the streets, has challenged McCumby’s reputation, including a murky story about McCumby’s positive test for testosterone metabolics for a 2016 fight against Donovan George. It led to an 18-month suspension and fine, assessed by the Nevada State Athletic Commission.
Eight years later, it has led to tension between Plant and McCumby. It escalated Thursday at a news conference for a super-middleweight fight that has begun to generate almost as much attention as the main event, which is expected to be a one-sided Canelo victory.
Maybe, it started when McCumby called Plant “a quitter.” Or maybe it was Plant on social media, saying that steroids are the one thing he’s never had to quit because he never started using them.
Thursday, Plant put the bully into the pulpit, accusing McCumby’s brother of calling him a “bum” Wednesday when he walked into the hotel lobby for the fighters’ MGM Grand Arrival.
“Somebody, maybe your brother, came up to me and called me a bum,’’ said Plant, all the while looking at McCumby as if he were the bum.
The accusation sparked a response from a couple of people seated behind the media.
“Come up here and say that to my face,’’ Plant said.
Nobody did, even though Plant continued to trade taunts, this time with gestures. From his seat on the stage, he blew kisses at the people mocking him. It was a sure sign that McCumby and Plant won’t be sending each other Christmas cards later this year.
Cool and calm, McCumby dismissed it as just a heated moment in a hostile game.
“No bad blood on my side’’ said McCumby, a Donald Trump fan who is not shy about expressing his support for the former President in another contentious match. “We’re about to fight. Things are going to get said. I don’t let these things get into my head.’’
But, McCumby said, Plant “let’s these things get into his head too easily. But, no, I don’t think he’s a bum.’’
Still, it’s clear that McCumby’s business partner isn’t exactly a friend, either.
Words and threats were exchanged throughout a face-to-face, nose-to-nose stare down that went on for several ominous moments. It might have led to a shove or more if promoter Tom Brown had not stepped in between them.
“A match made in heaven,’’ said McCumby, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
Maybe hell, too.
