The lawsuit was quietly settled in March with an agreement that required Mesi to pay SRLB $90,000 to get out of the fourth fight. In the end, two things are clear: One, Joe Mesi will not be the big payday that Leonard and Rebney once hoped. Two, SRLB hasn't had an easy time of it. As he dots the countryside with a vigorous work schedule that takes him to crummy hotels in crummy towns pitting him against unscrupulous second-tier promoters, Leonard must be pondering why he got himself into this. "It's not comfortable," he concedes. "It's aggravating. It's frustrating. I'll be the first to admit that. It pisses me off. Don King told me early on that you'll know you're a player, a hitter, you're somebody, once you start getting sued.
"Well, now I'm somebody."
THE NEXT CHAMP?
It's a midweek afternoon in January and Leonard is in Manhattan, sitting on the sofa in his hotel suite wearing loose sweats and an undershirt and staring at the TV with the channel changer in his hand. Click. Stare. Click. Stare. It's the last time we'll sit down together, but he's already done with me. For whatever reason -- maybe he's just tired of trying to explain boxing's underside -- none of the questions interests him. So, Ray, what have you learned since starting your business? What's surprised you? What hasn't? What do you wish you'd done differently? How is competing like this -- as an entrepreneur, as a producer of boxing events, juggling all the people involved, all the boxers and site managers and television executives and financiers -- different from competing the way you used to, in the ring, just one man against the one man in front of you, with a clock measuring the rounds, a ring defining the options, a referee enforcing the rules?
Click. Stare. Smile.
What about the lawsuits? What about Joe Mesi's departure? What about your onetime partner Ersoff and his lawsuit?
Only the mention of Ersoff stops him for a second. The hand with the channel changer droops from the wrist. "That's a personal matter. It doesn't have anything to do with the company now." His anger flares, then vanishes. Smile. Then the TV again. Click.
"Don King told me that you'll know you're a player once you start getting sued."
I find myself imagining what any number of entrepreneurs might do if they were in the room with Ray Leonard right now. They might take the clicker away, turn the TV off, stand square between Leonard and the dead screen and say: This is how it goes. This is what it's like. It's messy. It takes longer than you thought. Get used to it -- to the thousand distractions that jab at you, that threaten to separate you from the passion and vision that got you going in the first place. This is what everyone goes through, every business owner, each in his own way. Welcome to the jungle.
Maybe Leonard's company will step into whatever void will eventually be left by King and Arum. Lots of credible people think so. Maybe it'll happen because Leonard and Rebney are smart about using Ray's name, stature, and aura. His fame. Maybe they'll stage better fights, drawing more fans, attracting better ratings. Maybe they will, one day, treat the boxers they deal with better than they've been treated before. Or maybe, as others insist, they'll succeed because of Ray's fame and because they're every bit as willing to mix it up in a ruthless and conniving business as everyone else in the industry. Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe it's more a matter of being in the right place at the right time. "Ray seems passionate enough, knowledgeable enough to be a difference-maker," says Kery Davis, HBO's boxing chief and one of the most powerful men in the industry. "But in the end, if the next Oscar de la Hoya falls into your lap then you're boxing's next power broker."
By that yardstick, things are looking up. In recent weeks, Leonard and Rebney signed a 6-foot-4-inch Cuban boxer whom many consider one of the most naturally gifted boxers in the world. His name is Juan Carlos Gomez, and he was the WBC cruiserweight world champion from 1998 to 2002 before he decided last year -- like Evander Holyfield before him -- to lay down the title to move to the heavyweight division (he's now won four fights as a heavyweight). He is currently ranked No. 11 by the WBC and No. 5 by the WBO. He has been called the best unknown fighter in the world. Angelo Dundee, who trained both Leonard and Ali, will be training Gomez, and Dundee has already pronounced him the best heavyweight around. Maybe Gomez will be the fighter who establishes Sugar Ray Leonard Boxing.
"This is the guy," says Leonard. "He's undefeated in 36 fights. I think he has the potential to be the heavyweight champion of the world."
Tahl Raz is an Inc. staff writer.
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