Columnist Dean Juipe: Boxing fails dead fighter T.C. Rone

Dean Juipe

Tuesday, July 22, 2003 | 9:33 a.m.

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at juipe@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4084.

The knee-jerk reaction is to say boxing is not doing a good job of policing itself, that the Association of Boxing Commissions is an inadequate organizational body and that the only solution to the sport's ills is through federal intervention.

Yet neither of the boxing-related bills in their present form before the U.S. Congress would have addressed the sorry situation of Brad "T.C." Rone, a Las Vegas-based fighter who died in the ring Friday night in Cedar City, Utah.

But that's not to say that senators John McCain and Harry Reid couldn't amend their boxing bills and add clauses that would prevent states such as Utah from exploiting men such as Rone, who, as it turns out, needed protecting from himself.

Rone died -- likely of cardiac arrest -- after being knocked down by Billy Zumbrun with five seconds remaining in the first round of a scheduled six-round heavyweight fight at Cedar Raceway. A shot to the kidneys put Rone on the canvas and he was formally pronounced dead an hour later.

With a terrible record of 7-41-3 with only two knockouts, with a four-year losing streak that had reached 26 consecutive matches and with a recent history of high blood pressure, Rone had no business being in the ring at Cedar City or anywhere else. He was a failure and the sport is a failure for having let him continue to fight.

"Just last week I told him I couldn't use him anymore," said Wes Wolfe, a local trainer who has known Rone for years and who occasionally used him as a sparring partner for a better fighter, most recently Tye Fields. "I said, 'T.C., stick a fork in you -- you're done.'

"He'd been bugging me to death, but I told him I just couldn't take a chance on him anymore."

But Rone was not deterred and accepted the fight in Utah on short notice, in part to pay the expenses of his mother's funeral. She had died the previous week.

Rone's opponent, Zumbrun, was certainly familiar to him in that they had fought June 27 in Salt Lake City. Zumbrun, 11-3-1, won that fight by decision.

Rone's last fight in Las Vegas, three years ago against Jorge Luis Gonzalez, was the last straw for Nevada State Athletic Commission executive director Marc Ratner. "It was something of a joke," he said of a fight that Gonzalez won by decision.

Rone had 11 knockout losses on his record but prided himself in not literally being knocked out. He would frequently take a knee and allow himself to be counted out.

"I feel bad, he was a nice kid," Ratner said. But when asked if Rone was an "approvable" fighter in Nevada, Ratner bluntly replied "No."

But earlier this year Rone had hoped to fight on a card in Laughlin and, Wolfe said, took a physical that showed him to have high blood pressure. Rone, nonetheless, ignored the potential ramifications and refused to take any medication to combat the condition.

In fact, he allegedly blamed his high blood pressure on having been maced earlier this year by a North Las Vegas policeman following an altercation with a neighbor over a dog. When an animal control officer couldn't contain Rone, the police were called and Rone was maced and detained for several hours, although he was not formally charged.

Utah has a boxing commission, yet it routinely approves of fighters such as Rone participating in bouts within the state. In fact, Utah has an "anything-goes" reputation, built by having allowed fighters to fight more than one opponent a night and for permitting any number of risky situations, such as allowing a man out of jail to fight.

"This burns my a--," Wolfe said Monday of Rone's death. "If people need a reason for federal intervention (in boxing) or for the need for (mandatory) MRIs, this just might be it.

"T.C. had high blood pressure, he drank too much, he was overweight and he got hit in the head too often. He was a professional sparring partner with limited abilities.

"If he was in a fight and got worn out, he took a knee. But this is a dangerous business and if you don't train properly, which he didn't, and they don't examine you before you get in the ring, things like this can happen."

Rone had fought a number of high-quality opponents in a career that dated from 1989. Of course, he lost to everyone of any consequence, including Hasim Rahman, Obed Sullivan, Fres Oquendo, Michael Grant and Kirk Johnson.

He had also been employed as a sparring partner for such notables as Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield and Lennox Lewis.

"He was a tough guy and a nice guy, but he didn't do anything right in terms of being a professional fighter," Wolfe said.

Rone's name is certain to surface today (through Friday) in St. Louis, where Ratner will be among the representatives at an Association of Boxing Commissions convention. That body has done a good job of standardizing the rules of combat, but it has not addressed such items as licensing criteria.

Hence, a fighter such as Rone can be denied a license in Nevada but acquire one in Utah or any number of states.

"Our standards in Nevada are different," Ratner said. "What's second nature for us is different for some others. A lot of fighters fight in the Midwest with bad records. They're professional losers.

"But a bad record itself won't get you suspended here, and each state makes its own determination on such things.

"I would say, though, that there needs to be more standardization."

I would say that Rone, if he had it to do over, would agree.