By
Kieran Mulvaney | ESPN.com
This was not how it was meant to be, not how Ishe Smith had imagined
things ending up. He had been married, with beautiful kids and a boxing
career that was in the ascendant -- had even, thanks to his leading role
in a TV reality show, enjoyed fame far beyond anything that a young
prospect could normally dream of.
Now, here he was, in his early 30s. His marriage had
disintegrated and ended in divorce, and he was battling for joint
custody of his children. He was broke, he was piling up more losses than
wins, and on those occasions when he did fight -- which were becoming
increasingly rare -- he was now the opponent, not the attraction. And so
he sat in his home in Las Vegas, contemplated his gun collection and
wondered whether he should quit. Not just boxing, but life.
It was
a far cry and a long road from where he and I had first met, in Big
Bear, Calif. In 2003, I decided to decamp for a while to Las Vegas to
write a book about Sin City and the sweet science. As a key part of
that, I wanted to focus on three Vegas-based boxers in various stages of
their careers. One of them was young welterweight Ishe Smith.
For
all its long involvement in the sport, Las Vegas has never had a world
champion to call its own, and back in 2003, Smith hoped to be the first.
He had made his bones fighting at The Orleans, west of the famed Strip,
where local promoters Guilty Boxing put on monthly "Friday Night
Fights" cards that were a staple of the Vegas boxing social calendar.
The fights, booked by Top Rank matchmaker Brad Goodman, were almost
invariably competitive, and one of the series' early standout stars was
local boy Ishe.
Jeff Kowalsky/Hoganphotos/Golden Boy PromotionsIshe
Smith peaked as a prospect with a run on the TV boxing series "The
Contender," but some admittedly poor choices soon led to his career
stalling out.
Smith fought at The Orleans
eight times in a row, running his record to 10-0, until he came to
national attention courtesy of junior middleweight titlist Fernando
Vargas. In 2002, "El Feroz" revealed on HBO that "Sugar Shay" had given
him solid sparring for his upcoming grudge match with Oscar De La Hoya,
which led to interest from Vargas' promoter, Gary Shaw, who ultimately
bought out Smith's Guilty Boxing contract. Soon, Smith was making his
first appearance on Showtime and had garnered a reputation as a
top-notch sparring partner -- and particularly, it seems, the perfect
preparation for De La Hoya opponents. When we met, it was at Shane
Mosley's training camp prior to Sugar Shane's 2003 rematch with the
Golden Boy.
"When Vargas did that, it blew me up," Smith told
ESPN.com. "Everybody wanted to know, Who is this guy? I saw him in Vegas
last year and I told him, 'Thank you.' I appreciated that; he got my
career started."
In January 2004, after televised wins against Sam
Garr and David Estrada, Smith took on hard-hitting former titlist
Randall Bailey. The prospect emerged victorious, but it was a close
decision and the fight wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing to watch.
“
Whenever I would sit in a dark house, looking at my guns, I would always
think of my kids. I wouldn't even think of myself. I would always think
of my kids and the way I felt not ever having a dad, and I didn't feel I
could do that to them.
”
-- Ishe Smith, on his struggles after several losses and a lack of activity stalled his career and affected his personal life
"Bailey had more knockouts than I had fights," Smith said.
"You see what he's doing now; he's still around, still knocking people
out. I don't think I get enough credit for that fight. You don't get
guys with 13 fights fighting a guy like Randall Bailey."
Shortly
after the Bailey fight, Smith declared bankruptcy to secure an exit from
his contract with Shaw, and although he maintains that it was the right
decision for him and his family, he took a lot of heat for the move in
industry circles. After an unimpressive win and an ugly break from his
promoter, it wasn't clear where Smith could go next.
And then one
day, as we both sat ringside for a card at The Orleans, he told me about
an approach from the TV production company responsible for the smash
hit "Survivor." They were putting together a boxing-themed show along
similar lines called "The Contender," and he had been recommended to
them as a possible participant.
He seemed skeptical.
"I
thought it was a gimmick," he said. "They called, and I kind of told
them on the phone, 'You guys aren't looking for me. I'm way too
experienced.'"
Still, Smith went ahead with the process, and he
was ultimately selected to be one of the 16 boxers featured on the show.
He soon became one of the standouts, although he didn't progress as far
as he had hoped: After defeating Ahmad Kaddour, he lost to eventual
champion Sergio Mora.
Johnny Hanson/ChronicleWhen
Ishe Smith's career took a turn, he fought less, didn't trust his
stamina and as a result would put on unimpressive performances -- a
cycle that led him to a low point professionally and in his personal
life.
When the series ended, Smith fell out
with the producers -- a development he says he now regrets -- and
entered several years wandering the boxing wilderness. He signed with
Golden Boy, who ultimately released him. He signed with Lou DiBella, who
also released him when he couldn't get Smith enough fights.
"Working
with Lou was great," Smith said. "Lou went to bat for me a couple
times, he had my back, and when he couldn't get me fights, he said, 'I'm
not going to do the typical promoter thing and hold you back. I'm going
to release you.' Any other promoter would have just held on to me, so I
love Lou for that."
But by then, Smith's interest in his career,
and in pretty much everything, had petered out. He was fighting
irregularly, and his lack of in-ring action led to a loss of confidence
in his stamina. So he would often hold back, turning winnable fights
into ugly losses. That didn't exactly make him must-see TV, but he
remained dangerous enough for potential opponents to think twice about
fighting him, thus adding to his inactivity and perpetuating the cycle.
Money became tight, and his personal life, too, began to crumble.
"It was just spiraling out of control," he said.
His own personality, he says now, wasn't helping things.
"Those post-'Contender' years, I was kind of my own man, kind of hard-headed." He paused. "Just kind of an a------."
Smith
became divorced from his wife, Latoya, a wrenching break made all the
more difficult by the fact that, he says, "we had been together so long.
We kind of grew up together." He had lost everything. The only thing
that he still had was life, and he began to wonder whether he even still
wanted that. What held him back, he said, was remembering his own
fatherless youth. It wasn't something he wanted to bequeath to his own
children.
"So whenever I would sit in a dark house, looking at my
guns, I would always think of my kids," he said. "I wouldn't even think
of myself. I would always think of my kids and the way I felt not ever
having a dad, and I didn't feel I could do that to them. It just came to
a point where I thought, 'Let me just get rid of these guns, get them
out the house.'"
He had all but given up on boxing, was focused
more on coaching youth football. But a final shot at the brass ring
emerged, courtesy of an unexpected source. Smith was coaching a game
last year when he received a phone call from Cornelius Boza Edwards, the
former junior lightweight champ who is now part of Floyd Mayweather
Jr.'s Money Team. Would Ishe be available to help Floyd prepare for his
upcoming bout with Miguel Cotto? Oh, and by the way, Mayweather
Promotions CEO Leonard Ellerbe wanted to put Smith on a card to be held
the day before the Mayweather-Miguel Cotto fight, at the Hard Rock
Casino in Vegas.
Tom Casino/ShowtimeFloyd
Mayweather Jr., center, has taken Ishe Smith, left, under his wing.
Mayweather told him, Smith says, "I'm gonna get you a title shot."
"I
was just happy to go to camp because, to be honest, Floyd pays great,"
Smith said. "Floyd is the best-paying guy in camp ever. So I thought,
'Great, I can make a couple dollars.'"
That Mayweather and Ellerbe
provided him with a fight, which Smith won, was an added bonus. Then
they set him up with a second bout, which he also won. And now, on
Saturday, in his third fight working under the banner of Mayweather
Promotions, Smith finally gets his chance to be the first-ever
Vegas-born world titlist when he takes on junior middleweight beltholder
Cornelius "K9" Bundrage in Detroit (Showtime, 9 p.m. ET).
"Floyd
told me personally, 'I'm going to take you under my wing, and I'm gonna
get you a title shot. You're too good of a fighter not to even have a
title shot,'" Smith said. "He even sent me some letters while he was
incarcerated [last year], to keep me motivated, to let me know, 'I got
your back. Don't worry about a thing, I got your back. I promise.' He
just kept reassuring me."
But Floyd could promise him only so
much. "I'm gonna get you your title shot," Mayweather told Smith, "and
it's up to you to win it." And so it is -- just as it's up to Bundrage
to prevent him from making it happen.
It has taken a lot longer to
reach this point than either of us could have imagined when Smith and I
met that California day almost 10 years ago. But that the opportunity
has arrived at all means that, win or lose, the future is brighter than
it appeared on those dark night in Las Vegas, when Ishe Smith looked at
his guns and wondered if his journey was about to reach a permanent end.
AP PhotoKeegan
Bradley (l) and Ernie Els (r) both use belly putters. Rory McIlroy uses
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leave Bradley, Els and others in the lurch. 
