Al Bernstein reflects on 30 years of boxing commentating

Steve Marcus

Al Bernstein poses in his Las Vegas home on Oct. 20, 2009. Bernstein is being inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame this weekend.

By Brett Okamoto (contact)

Thursday, Oct. 22, 2009 | midnight

Approaching the Las Vegas house of Al Bernstein, the most famous boxing commentator in the sport’s history, there are certain expectations one has of what awaits inside.

The image of a hallway lined with photos of fights from the past comes to mind. A study with boxing history books on the shelves and a signed pair of gloves from a former world champion on the desk is easy to imagine.

What greets each guest at the Bernstein home, however, isn’t boxing memorabilia. What does is a nearly overwhelming display of decorations for any upcoming holiday and Bernstein’s small, friendly dog, Fluffy.

Being that it’s Oct. 20, five days before Bernstein is scheduled to be inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame, the household is in full Halloween mode, complete with a miniature-figurine carnival, giant spiderwebs covering the windows and a headless mummy filled with candy.

This — even more so than his 30 years of service in boxing broadcasts — represents the real Al Bernstein.

“Oh God, Al, for some reason, he comes off as this guy with the suit and tie, but really he’s very down to earth,” said his wife of 14 years, Connie. “He wears the big belt buckle up to Pahrump and he’ll get on his quarter horse and ride off into the sunset. That’s Al.”

It’s fitting that Bernstein is celebrating his 30th year in boxing at the same time the HOF is celebrating its 30th anniversary.

Since making his first appearance on a pay-per-view broadcast at a fight between Marvin Hagler and Roberto Duran in 1983, Bernstein has been the face and voice of the greatest fights of the last three decades.

In a sport sometimes criticized for its corruption and inequalities, Bernstein has found long-term success in broadcasting because of his dedication to respect every athlete he is employed to critique.

In many ways, that attribute can be traced back to a single moment Bernstein had with his father when he was 11-years-old.

Before Sol Bernstein died from cancer before his son’s 14th birthday, one of his greatest loves in life was to watch sports on television.

To this day, Bernstein remembers one specific instance that left a lifelong impression.

“I will never forget this one incident that shaped me as a broadcaster,” he said. “I was sitting there as an 11-year-old watching the Cubs play the White Sox and this relief pitcher came in and just got shelled. When they pulled him, I had made some really nasty remarks about him, just being obnoxious. My father turned the TV off and said, ‘If you ever do that again, we’re not watching games together anymore.’

“He taught me that I can be happy that a guy got pulled, but I don’t have to sit there and be obnoxious about it. That one moment always stayed with me.”

Bernstein didn't get an opportunity to utilize that lesson in broadcasting immediately as he first had to pay his dues as a hard news reporter at Lerner Newspapers in Chicago.

After working his way up to a managing editor in the 1970s, Bernstein’s first major contribution to the sport of boxing was a book he wrote in 1978 titled "Boxing for Beginners."

As a former amateur boxer with about 30 fights to his record, Bernstein had reluctantly accepted the role of a hard news editor during his newspaper days — always keeping an eye out for an opportunity that could turn his career more towards covering athletics.

On the heels of his book release, that opportunity came in the form of an offer from a small broadcast company in 1979 calling itself ESPN that was looking for a commentator to cover matches in Chicago and Las Vegas.

“After I wrote the book, I thought to myself that I could use it as a platform for other things, so I started writing more about boxing,” Bernstein said. “When ESPN came along in 1979, it was this fledging, table operation. At the time, I wasn’t sure at all if ESPN was going to make it. It was drowning in a sea of red ink. During the first five or six years the network was on the air, you cashed your paycheck very quickly.”

As many know, ESPN didn’t fold in the end and Bernstein spent 23 years serving as the boxing analyst for the network. After leaving the company in 2003, he was quickly picked up by Showtime Championship Boxing Series and has worked there ever since.

His experiences have taken him through some of the most memorable moments in boxing history.

He remembers being most shocked in 1993 when a man by the name of James Jarrett Miller (also known as Fan Man) parachuted himself into the ring at Caesars Palace during a fight between Evander Holyfield and Riddick Bowe.

The sport saddened him in 1992 and 1996 when he saw what he describes as racial injustice and incompetence from the Olympic committees that ruined the hopes of amateur boxers who were unfairly disqualified.

He’ll say that the best fight he ever saw was the absolute 10-round war between Diego Corrales and Jose Luis Castillo in 2005 but that he’s been inspired by the performances of hundreds of fighters who never fought for a world championship.

However, as much as boxing has given him, Bernstein also says he strives to make sure it’s the not the only thing he’s remembered for.

“For me to do one thing for 30 years seems almost impossible,” Bernstein said. “And if you can see my history, I’m almost like Leonard Nimoy (the actor who played Spock on Star Trek) in that it’s been almost a preoccupation of mine that I do something else so that I wasn’t just about boxing.

“I think I came to grips though with the idea that boxing would be the main thing for me.”

To his wife, Connie, Bernstein’s place in boxing will always pale in comparison to the role he played in her five-year battle with breast cancer that began when she was diagnosed in 2003.

Eventually, when the cancer had reached Stage 4, spreading to other organs in her body, she says that it was Al who showed the strength it took to fight back when she felt beaten.

“He not only took my hand but he took my mind,” said Connie, who opened a center for cancer victims called The Caring Place in 2008. “I lost my hair twice and he still would tell me that I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

“He’s just a real man and he’s my hero.”

It should be noted that there is some presence of boxing within Bernstein’s home.

A photo of the broadcaster and Sugar Ray Leonard hangs next to the front door. A mural of two fighters engaging each other takes up a large area in the living room.

As it turns out, though, these decorations are actually thanks to the wishes of his wife. Al’s contribution is found more in the form of the plastic witch that overlooks the dining area.

It’s clear that it’s not in Bernstein’s manner to push his successes on his guests, a trait that is very similar to the style of commentating that has left its impact on boxing history.

“I do want to be noticed. I don’t want to fall into some crack where people say, ‘I don’t know who did that play-by-play,’” Bernstein said. “I want them to enjoy my work, but I don’t want to do it at the expense of the event.”

Brett Okamoto can be reached at 948-7817 or brett.okamoto@lasvegassun.com.