By Norm Frauenheim
LAS VEGAS — Two days before opening bell, promoter Tom Brown promises violence. Minutes later, David Benavidez says enough to enrage David Morrell and his manager, Luis DeCubas, pushing Brown’s promise ever closer to reality during a contentious news conference Thursday.
Benavidez turned up the rhetoric, elevating the potential hostility by several octaves, with everything from profane threats to personal insults during an angry hour in a ballroom at the MGM Grand.
Ordinarily, trash talk at a boxing news conference is a redundancy. It’s all part of the show. Increasingly however, a method in Benavidez’ madness is apparent. It’s in his words, to be sure. But it’s also in his eyes. Again and again Thursday, the Phoenix-born fighter looked across the table at Morrell and De Cubas with eyes that flashed like sparks off flint. Benavidez, nicknamed The Monster and sounding like one, looks to be serious in the final hours before his light-heavyweight clash with Morrell Saturday at T-Mobile Arena.
The trash talk is like another training session, one that further sharpens the edge on his mind and emotion. Ask him about it, and he acknowledges that the verbal exchanges help channel his energies and maybe his anger, too.
That wasn’t apparent in his last fight, a light-heavyweight debut, a bout with former 175-pound champion Oleksandr Gvozdyk in June. Benavidez won, but without any of the dynamic energy that has been a trademark for so long. He liked Gvozdyk, a quiet and skillful Ukrainian.
“We spoke different languages and we respected each other, unlike this effing guy, who I don’t effing respect at all,’’ Benavidez told The Boxing Hour/15 Rounds as he waved a dismissive gesture toward Morrell’s side of the stage.
One thing became loudly clear at the newser. Benavidez and Morrell understand each other. Both are fluent in profanity. But there were signs that Morrell wanted to insert a little civility to the pre-fight proceedings.
“Peace and love,’’ Morrell, a Cuban living in Minneapolis, said at the end of his first turn at the bully pulpit.
Benavidez reacted to that like a predator pursuing prey.
“Peace and love, what’s the hell is that?’’ Benavidez said. “But I’m not surprised, because I know he’s effing afraid of me.’’
The hostility, sparked by Benavidez, began with a barrage of insults aimed at De Cubas. De Cubas tried to keep his cool as he spoke amid one interruption after another. But it was to no avail. Finally, De Cubas answered, profanity-for-profanity.
“—-sucker,’’ he yelled, throwing out an obscene insult that set the stage for an X-rated show.
It got so bad that Benavidez manager and promoter, Sampson Lewkowicz actually admonished De Cubas.
“I want to apologize for De Cubas’ behavior,’’ said Lewkowicz, who isn’t exactly known for diplomacy. “We didn’t need anybody to scream. This fight sells it itself.’’
But the screaming continued anyway for an intriguing light-heavyweight bout between young fighters, both entering their primes and both unbeaten. They’re both cocksure, which isn’t exactly the word De Cubas used to describe Benavidez. But you get the idea.
After the newser, De Cubas said he wasn’t surprised at how Benavidez went at him.
“We know all about Benavidez’ bullying and all of that other stuff,’’ De Cubas said in the relative calm just outside the doors to the MGM Grand’s media room. “I knew it was coming. But when you behave like that, it’s because of fear. I saw that fear in him. Look, I think he knows that some time during the fight he’s going to realize that he shouldn’t have taken this fight in the first place.
“He’s complaining about not shaking hands. Before that, there was all this stuff about steroids. But we were the first to agree to VADA testing. There’s always something. Why? Because he’s afraid he’s gonna get knocked out.”
Who’s afraid of who? Brown’s promise suggests that nobody is afraid at all. In part, that’s why he’s forecasting violence.
“At the end of the day, we’re selling fights, right?’’ said Benavidez, who lives in Miami these days yet continues to honor his Phoenix roots with PHX boldly stitched onto the waistband of his trunks. “Would I rather say he’s a good fighter? I’m trying to sell the fight. I’m trying to sell pay-per-views. I’m trying to generate interest because if I don’t say anything, this effing guy’s not going to say anything. People are paying hard-earned money for this fight.
“They want to see something. Let’s give them something to see.”
Angry words, but they’re also words from a fighter who hopes to be a peoples champ. Perhaps, The Peoples Champ
“I want to be the Face of Boxing,’’ said Benavidez, who on Thursday was a face hard to ignore.
Harder to silence.