A Death in the Ring

In June 2001, Beethoven Scottland was offered a fight with undefeated George Jones in Manhattan as a last-minute substitute. Jones was four pounds bigger and three inches taller. The fight was being promoted by Jones's manager, Dino Duva, a conflict of interest that would be unacceptable in any other sport.

Beethoven Scottland, whose father was a classical pianist and who was known as "Bee" to his friends in the Baltimore gym where he trained, accepted the fight on short notice because he was broke and needed the money. He had not had a fight for 329 days. Besides, the fight would be televised nationally on the ESPN2 cable network. Bee was promised $8,000 for the ten-round match, a modest purse. But Bee was an independent, who had no contract with any promoter or TV network.

Since 1970, about fifty professional fighters have died in the ring. Most of them followed a warrior code that made them too brave for their own good. This was true of Benny Paret, Willie Classen, Stephan Johnson, Jimmy Garcia, Bobby Tomasello--and of Beethoven Scottland.

Bee took a bad beating all night, refusing to quit, until he collapsed into a coma with a bleeding brain in the tenth round. Scottland's record was 20-7, and he was not a big puncher; he just had a big heart and a big dream that boxing would lift him, his wife, his three children and his mother out of poverty.

After watching the tape three times, I am convinced that the doctors or the referee should have stopped the fight. Three doctors from the New York State Athletic Commission (NYSAC) were present at ringside--Gerald Varlotta, Barry Jordan and Rufus Sadler. None of them had the instinct to jump into the ring after the seventh round and shine a penlight into Scottland's eyes. The failure of the pupils to constrict in response to the light would have been a sign of injury to the brain.

Dr. Sadler told a reporter that night that Scottland's injuries were "probably not life-threatening."

In stark contrast, I have seen Dr. Margaret Goodman of the Nevada commission personally intervene to stop fights at precisely the right time. I have seen her correctly diagnose a detached retina and a brain injury in the seconds between rounds, using her penlight. She is a professional without being panicky.

The fight was broadcast live on ESPN2. Max Kellerman, the announcer, pleaded for the fight to be stopped while it was going on. My views are merely hindsight, but the whole country could hear the rising fear and revulsion in Kellerman's voice.

In an interview six days after the fight, Kellerman told me, "I saw it coming. The kid was absorbing too much punishment to the head. I saw Bobby Tomasello die after an ESPN2 fight that I was broadcasting. The kid got a draw and then went into a coma. I have always preferred referees and doctors to err on the side of humanity and caution."

The tape reveals Kellerman saying as early as the fourth round that Scottland was taking "a brutal beating." During the fifth round Scottland absorbed twenty-five consecutive punches to his head when he was trapped in a corner.

"That's it!" Kellerman shouted. "This is how guys get seriously hurt."

During the seventh round, as the one-sided brutality continued, Kellerman told the television audience, "I don't like the way he is getting hit.... Those are the cumulative punches that lead to things that you don't want to hear about after the fight."

After that round, Kellerman said, "If you're in Scottland's corner you have to ask yourself, 'Is it worth it, for the damage he is sustaining? Is it worth it for the kid's life to stay in these final rounds?' I would say no."

None of the three commission physicians at ringside examined Scottland in his corner after the savage seventh round. The TV broadcaster could see that the fight should be stopped, but not the trained physicians. Their penlights remained in their bags.

When Scottland finally collapsed from his bleeding brain, with forty-five seconds remaining in the fight, Kellerman told the television audience, "I feel nauseated. I feel sick. Why does this ever have to happen?"

In Dylan's song following the ring death of Davey Moore in 1963, he has the manager, the referee and the crowd all defensively rejecting responsibility for the calamity. Part of the song's intelligence comes from the multiplicity of logical suspects. In any tragedy like this, it is simplistic to blame any single suspect.

In the case of Scottland, the referee and his cornerman all might have saved him. But the main culprit, in the opinion of most observers, including this one, was the boxing commission. They hired and assigned the doctors. Their top officials were present. They could have intervened.

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