Exclusive Excerpt from Bringing Back Boxing, A Young Journalist's Attempt to Revive the Sweet Science By Dan Horgan
By Dan Horgan (Nov 16, 2007) DoghouseBoxing        
Doghouseboxing.com assistant editor Dan Horgan will release his new book, Bringing Back Boxing, A Young Journalist's Attempt to Revive the Sweet Science in the coming weeks on Lulu.com. An exclusive excerpt from the book is below.

On Friday, October 13, 2006, my high school held its first pep rally in five years. Roughly an hour and a half before school dismissal, everyone in the school poured into the football field's bleachers to watch various sports captains make speeches about their respective teams.

For my school, it was an afternoon of excitement and bliss. Kids in the audience laughed when captains made a joke, danced when the band played music, and cheered with the cheerleaders during the rally cries. My mind, however, was elsewhere.

As I left the high school that afternoon, I remember thinking to myself how good it felt to be a part of something bigger than high school spirit. Ninety-nine percent of the kids at that pep rally were proud to be a Rebel (our school mascot). I was no different. Walpole High School has a proud tradition as a sports powerhouse (I even run track for the school). But on that day, I felt proud to be Dan Horgan. The reason: I was off to Providence to cover the Peter Manfredo-Joey Spina press conference and fight.

As a journalist, I don't like to think of myself as a prominent figure in the large boxing clique. Sure, I report on the sport, but I'm not the one who's fighting, promoting, or managing. My role is indirect -- I am nothing more than a messenger from the ring to the public. But on this particular fall day, I felt as though I was as big as the fighters themselves. I was a piece of the enormous puzzle, and nothing had ever felt better.

****

Before October 13, I had never been to a press conference, nor had I ever covered a fight ringside. The closest I had ever come to the action was a May, 2006 trip to the TD Bank North Garden in Boston to watch Ricky Hatton battle Luis Collazo. So this particular weekend was going to be extra special for me.

On that Friday afternoon, I hurried home to gather my recorder, my notebook full of fighter info (even though I had it all memorized anyway), and about a million pens to take down as many notes as I could. As my mom drove me up to Providence (about an hour away from my home), I practiced my interviewing skills by asking her questions. We also worked out how I would handle myself that afternoon.

"Okay Mom, I'll walk in alone, while you wait out in the lobby," I told her. "When I am done, I'll give you a subtle head nod and I'll meet you out in the car shortly thereafter."

I wanted to do everything in my power to look professional, and having my mom walk in with me wouldn't have given me the most mature impression. Reluctantly, my mom agreed.

"Just please be careful," she told me worriedly.

I walked into the ballroom at the Marriott Hotel (where the press conference was taking place) with my head held high. I was determined to not back down from any interviews, and I sure as hell would not be disrespected because of my age. Quite honestly, I thought I would be very out of place with the media, and many would question my credentials -- I couldn't have been more wrong.

As soon as I walked in, a man who ran a radio show saw my press pass and asked me a few questions about the fight. To my surprise, he didn't ask how old I was or who I was with. He simply wanted to talk boxing -- I was in Heaven.

I ended up sitting next to Peter Manfredo's wife and kids during the pre-fight speeches. Experiencing the fighters' raw words was just as I had imagined it would be. The press conference honestly was like one you would see in the movies -- there was trash talk, fighter groupies, and even a brawl between the two fighters' trainers. Sitting outside, my mom heard the brouhaha and thought, "Wow, they're really excited in there!" When she found out afterward that the ruckus was due to a brawl, she nearly panicked.

"Here I came along to protect my son, and I thought that the fight inside the press conference was people cheering," she later told me.

After the press conference concluded, I interviewed nearly every fighter in attendance, including nine of 'The Contender' season two contestants. The show had just concluded weeks ago, so these pugilists were at the peak of their fame. However, the spotlight didn't go to their heads: they all remained as incredibly humble as club fighters trying to feed their families.

I remember interviewing several of the fighters (Noberto Bravo and Mike Stewart particularly) that had the impression that I was doing them a favor. These men were so modest, so unassuming, that one would never know they were amongst the world's most popular boxers.

I wrote a story for DogHouse on the car ride home (a compilation of quotes and notes) and felt on top of the world as I went to sleep that night. Millions of people had watched 'The Contender' contestants do battle on national television, and I had just met them in person. My place in the boxing world was secure.

The following day, I spent hours and hours on Boxrec.com in an attempt to sound as knowledgeable as possible that night. I probably put more preparation into covering the fight than I did writing the report.

Around 5:00 PM, my father and I took off for Providence. He would be watching the fight from the stands.

I walked into the Dunkin' Donuts Center with an ego as inflated as that of P. Diddy. I wore my press pass around my neck with such pride. I looked around at all of the fight fans, and thought to myself, "I've made it to the next level." I was once one of those fans, but now I had a say that these same fans would be forced to consider. I soon made my way ringside.

Before settling in, I looked at all of the other writers who would be covering the fight. George Kimball (Boston Herald), Steven Tobey (Maxboxing.com), and Mike Norby ( Secondsout.com) were all scheduled to be in press row, and I couldn't wait to chat with the sport's analytical vanguards.

I sat next to Boxing Digest editor-in-chief Sean Sullivan as well as Jason Gonzalez of Fightnews.com. Both men were very nice and knowledgeable.

The only people ringside who I had prior contact with were publicist Bernadette Robinson and sports entertainment attorney Kurt Emhoff. I had met the pair through Myspace.com -- a social networking website that I will elaborate upon later in the book.. Robinson and I shared a nice conversation before I talked boxing with Emhoff. In a three way chat between Emhoff, Sullivan, and myself, Sullivan asked Emhoff if Joe Calzaghe had won earlier in the day against Sakio Bika in Wales. Emhoff asked me if I minded hearing the spoiler, and although I certainly did, I said 'no', and found out the result. This was business. I knew my days of being a fan were over.

While the fighting took place, I remember looking up at the fans in the Dunkin' Donuts Center in amazement. Although the turnout was not as large as expected, seeing the fans from ringside made me feel good about boxing's future.

After an action packed card headlined by a Manfredo thrashing of Spina in three rounds, I made my way to the post-fight press conference. Manfredo, like the rest of 'The Contender' contestants, was very down to earth, and the respect he showed to both Spina and the media was almost as impressive as his amazing power punching display.

I spoke with HBO boxing analyst Harold Letterman at the presser, and as I had expected, he was a kind and loquacious man. He talked to me about the history of Manfredo's advisor. Letterman is one of boxing's good guys, and despite being a celebrity in the fight world, he was just as happy to chat boxing with me as he would be with any journalist.

I left Providence that night with a large sense of accomplishment. I had just done something most journalists don't get to do until they are out of college -- I had covered a world class event. I went home, wrote my first ringside fight report, and got a good night's rest knowing that because of the sport's nice guys, boxing would be the sport I would always want to cover.

On Friday, October 13, 2006, my high school held its first pep rally in five years. Roughly an hour and a half before school dismissal, everyone in the school poured into the football field's bleachers to watch various sports captains make speeches about their respective teams.

For my school, it was an afternoon of excitement and bliss. Kids in the audience laughed when captains made a joke, danced when the band played music, and cheered with the cheerleaders during the rally cries. My mind, however, was elsewhere.

As I left the high school that afternoon, I remember thinking to myself how good it felt to be a part of something bigger than high school spirit. Ninety-nine percent of the kids at that pep rally were proud to be a Rebel (our school mascot). I was no different. Walpole High School has a proud tradition as a sports powerhouse (I even run track for the school). But on that day, I felt proud to be Dan Horgan. The reason: I was off to Providence to cover the Peter Manfredo-Joey Spina press conference and fight.

As a journalist, I don't like to think of myself as a prominent figure in the large boxing clique. Sure, I report on the sport, but I'm not the one who's fighting, promoting, or managing. My role is indirect -- I am nothing more than a messenger from the ring to the public. But on this particular fall day, I felt as though I was as big as the fighters themselves. I was a piece of the enormous puzzle, and nothing had ever felt better.

****

Before October 13, I had never been to a press conference, nor had I ever covered a fight ringside. The closest I had ever come to the action was a May, 2006 trip to the TD Bank North Garden in Boston to watch Ricky Hatton battle Luis Collazo. So this particular weekend was going to be extra special for me.

On that Friday afternoon, I hurried home to gather my recorder, my notebook full of fighter info (even though I had it all memorized anyway), and about a million pens to take down as many notes as I could. As my mom drove me up to Providence (about an hour away from my home), I practiced my interviewing skills by asking her questions. We also worked out how I would handle myself that afternoon.

"Okay Mom, I'll walk in alone, while you wait out in the lobby," I told her. "When I am done, I'll give you a subtle head nod and I'll meet you out in the car shortly thereafter."

I wanted to do everything in my power to look professional, and having my mom walk in with me wouldn't have given me the most mature impression. Reluctantly, my mom agreed.

"Just please be careful," she told me worriedly.

I walked into the ballroom at the Marriott Hotel (where the press conference was taking place) with my head held high. I was determined to not back down from any interviews, and I sure as hell would not be disrespected because of my age. Quite honestly, I thought I would be very out of place with the media, and many would question my credentials -- I couldn't have been more wrong.

As soon as I walked in, a man who ran a radio show saw my press pass and asked me a few questions about the fight. To my surprise, he didn't ask how old I was or who I was with. He simply wanted to talk boxing -- I was in Heaven.

I ended up sitting next to Peter Manfredo's wife and kids during the pre-fight speeches. Experiencing the fighters' raw words was just as I had imagined it would be. The press conference honestly was like one you would see in the movies -- there was trash talk, fighter groupies, and even a brawl between the two fighters' trainers. Sitting outside, my mom heard the brouhaha and thought, "Wow, they're really excited in there!" When she found out afterward that the ruckus was due to a brawl, she nearly panicked.

"Here I came along to protect my son, and I thought that the fight inside the press conference was people cheering," she later told me.

After the press conference concluded, I interviewed nearly every fighter in attendance, including nine of 'The Contender' season two contestants. The show had just concluded weeks ago, so these pugilists were at the peak of their fame. However, the spotlight didn't go to their heads: they all remained as incredibly humble as club fighters trying to feed their families.

I remember interviewing several of the fighters (Noberto Bravo and Mike Stewart particularly) that had the impression that I was doing them a favor. These men were so modest, so unassuming, that one would never know they were amongst the world's most popular boxers.

I wrote a story for DogHouse on the car ride home (a compilation of quotes and notes) and felt on top of the world as I went to sleep that night. Millions of people had watched 'The Contender' contestants do battle on national television, and I had just met them in person. My place in the boxing world was secure.

The following day, I spent hours and hours on Boxrec.com in an attempt to sound as knowledgeable as possible that night. I probably put more preparation into covering the fight than I did writing the report.

Around 5:00 PM, my father and I took off for Providence. He would be watching the fight from the stands.

I walked into the Dunkin' Donuts Center with an ego as inflated as that of P. Diddy. I wore my press pass around my neck with such pride. I looked around at all of the fight fans, and thought to myself, "I've made it to the next level." I was once one of those fans, but now I had a say that these same fans would be forced to consider. I soon made my way ringside.

Before settling in, I looked at all of the other writers who would be covering the fight. George Kimball (Boston Herald), Steven Tobey (Maxboxing.com), and Mike Norby ( Secondsout.com) were all scheduled to be in press row, and I couldn't wait to chat with the sport's analytical vanguards.

I sat next to Boxing Digest editor-in-chief Sean Sullivan as well as Jason Gonzalez of Fightnews.com. Both men were very nice and knowledgeable.

The only people ringside who I had prior contact with were publicist Bernadette Robinson and sports entertainment attorney Kurt Emhoff. I had met the pair through Myspace.com -- a social networking website that I will elaborate upon later in the book.. Robinson and I shared a nice conversation before I talked boxing with Emhoff. In a three way chat between Emhoff, Sullivan, and myself, Sullivan asked Emhoff if Joe Calzaghe had won earlier in the day against Sakio Bika in Wales. Emhoff asked me if I minded hearing the spoiler, and although I certainly did, I said 'no', and found out the result. This was business. I knew my days of being a fan were over.

While the fighting took place, I remember looking up at the fans in the Dunkin' Donuts Center in amazement. Although the turnout was not as large as expected, seeing the fans from ringside made me feel good about boxing's future.

After an action packed card headlined by a Manfredo thrashing of Spina in three rounds, I made my way to the post-fight press conference. Manfredo, like the rest of 'The Contender' contestants, was very down to earth, and the respect he showed to both Spina and the media was almost as impressive as his amazing power punching display.

I spoke with HBO boxing analyst Harold Letterman at the presser, and as I had expected, he was a kind and loquacious man. He talked to me about the history of Manfredo's advisor. Letterman is one of boxing's good guys, and despite being a celebrity in the fight world, he was just as happy to chat boxing with me as he would be with any journalist.

I left Providence that night with a large sense of accomplishment. I had just done something most journalists don't get to do until they are out of college -- I had covered a world class event. I went home, wrote my first ringside fight report, and got a good night's rest knowing that because of the sport's nice guys, boxing would be the sport I would always want to cover.

Questions or comments,
e-mail
Dan at: danhorgan2@gmail.com
Dan's archives at: www.myspace.com/danhorganboxing






Questions or comments,
e-mail
Dan at: danhorgan2@gmail.com
Dan's archives at: www.myspace.com/danhorganboxing
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