Lawmaker Pushes For Ban Of Toughman Bouts

Boxing Attraction Has Left 11 Fighters Dead Since It Started In 1979

(AP) 
Arkansas Vacuums Janitorial Supplies sits in southwest Little Rock, a nondescript factory look-alike off a street of worn strip malls and fast-food restaurants. Bright yellow mop buckets, floor polishers and shiny trash cans line the showroom floor.

The Arkansas State Athletic Commission meets in the back, next to a display of spa cleaning supplies.

Mattingly, the commission's secretary, said he tries to go to wrestling and boxing events throughout the state, but sometimes his schedule doesn't allow him the time. One of the panel's seven unpaid commissioners might attend a bout instead.

But with Toughman, commission members simply have no authority if they see something they don't like.

In 2001, then-Sen. Bill Gwatney sponsored a bill, passed into law, exempting "boxing elimination contests" from the commission's oversight. The bill instead simply limited the length of matches, required that fighters be sober and said a doctor must be ringside.

Arkansas, however, does not track fighters to ensure they don't enter new contests soon after being knocked out in another.

Robertson provided the bill, said Gwatney, now chairman of the Arkansas Democratic Party.

"Lydia Robertson knows more about boxing and boxing regulation than anybody in Arkansas and that's who brought me that bill. She's a real safety-conscious person," Gwatney said. "Trust me, that bill there was for the good of boxing, not for its detriment."

Gwatney said that, without his bill, amateur boxing matches could have gone on without ringside physicians.

Louisiana, Missouri, Tennessee and Texas all ban Toughman-style bouts. Oregon makes getting a license for a tournament nearly impossible.

Arkansas state Rep. Steve Harrelson became interested in banning the fights when 23-year-old Brandon Twitchell of Elkhart, Texas, died after two nights of fights at Texarkana in February. Harrelson said Toughman is wrong to let the unconditioned and unprepared enter the ring against fighters who have mastered martial arts.

"Those guys are trained professionals. They train under instructors," Harrelson said. "Here, these guys may have been sitting on bar stools a couple of hours ago."

As the lights fell in the basement of Little Rock's Statehouse Convention Center, Stubby Stumbaugh - a former Cabot mayor, former congressional candidate and that night's ring announcer - chastised the crowd into silence for the national anthem. With whoops and screams punctuating the end of "The Star Spangled Banner," the fight was on.

For Duncan's bout, opponent Corby Billingsley entered the ring first. The 35-year-old Billingsley had fought in five other Toughman contests in Arkansas and Texas, once breaking a bone in his right hand against another man's skull.

"You've got to be smart about things. Everyone thinks it is just a brute show of skills," Billingsley would say later at the bar he manages. "It is more than just getting out there and trying to hit the hardest. It's knowing when to hit and knowing when to move out of the way."

Duncan entered the ring after lifting some weights the week before the fight and knocking around a punching bag at a local gym. He had seen some of the other fighters at mixed-martial arts contests and boxing matches; Toughman rules say fighters cannot have more than five victories in the previous five years.

"What's the reason for me to pay $50 to go out there and to be some professional amateur boxer's punching bag? It's unreal," Duncan said.

Nonetheless, Duncan waited in the corner for the bell, wearing black head gear - his hands sweating inside the gloves.

The bell rang. The two shirtless men came to the center of the ring and Billingsley started throwing punches. The punches weren't the practiced, tested jabs of a professional, rather the roundhouses and body jabs of a street fight. It caught Duncan off guard.

But Duncan countered with much of the same - trading blows until the end of the 60-second round.

Duncan, weary, emerged for Round 2 with his arms up to protect his face, but within seconds was backed into a corner. Billingsley's right hand connected with Duncan's jaw. Duncan's eyes rolled back, his body tensed and his hands dropped to his side.

The world slipped away.

Duncan awoke several hours later in a hospital bed to a "Wizard of Oz" moment - family and friends circling his bed. A doctor said Duncan suffered a slight concussion and discharged him.

Duncan spent a half-hour trying to remember where he parked his car and it was days before he began, vaguely, remembering parts of the fight. He couldn't recall whether he landed any punches against Billingsley.

Still, Duncan hopes the effort to ban Toughman doesn't come too soon. His 1½ rounds lit a flame.

"It drives me to want to fight more in the Toughman just because of people like this guy," Duncan said. "It makes me want to fight more because I want to go and I want to show those people that, hey, someone just off the street can fight as good as them."

[piano_man2]

%u201CBut after the February death of a Toughman fighter in Texarkana, an Arkansas lawmaker is working to ban the events%u201D.

Why!!! If everyone is a consenting participant and knows before the fight starts what the risks are then the lawmakers should keep their noses out of the ring!!! Let two or more consenting adults beat the Hell out of each other if they think they need to prove something to others!!!

Here is a novel idea let%u2019s pass legislation to %u201CBAN%u201D corrupt politicians!!! That would do more to improve society than a ban on fighting!!!

[honestabe8]

I always wanted to be a toughman. Then I got mugged by Amish.

[newsreader2]

Who cares. Decrease the surplus population.

[hotwitch]

I always wanted to be a toughman, then I grew up.