Most fight fans are justifiably salivating on the prospect of action and drama in matchups such as this past weekend’s Hopkins- De La Hoya, and upcoming matchups of Jones Jr. -Glen Johnson, and Trinidad- Mayorga, particularly coming within a two week period as they do. As a scribe as well as a fan, I eagerly await Kostya Tzsyu- Sharmba Mitchell, Winky Wright- Sugar Shane Mosely, the November 13 th extravaganza with Bryd-McCline, Ruiz-Golotta, and Hasim Rahman, and now the November 27 th rubber match with Morrales and Barrera.
I’m also interested in the undercard of the Roy Jones fight on September 25 th , as well as a Jr. Bantamweight unification fight that is part of the November 13 th affair, for two reasons. One is that those fights feature three time World Champion Mark “Too Sharp” Johnson. Johnson is a rarity in the lower weight divisions, a 33 year old American still at his peak, with a solid chance to further enhance his legacy with another belt or two before he hangs up the gloves.
“Too Sharp” lost his second bout in Belfast , Northern Ireland to one Richie Wenton in a four round decision in 1990, then remained undefeated until October 2001, when he lost the first of two fights to Rafael Marquez, moving up to Bantamweight and losing a bizarre, unprecedented 10 round split decision. In that fight, he had two points deducted for holding, yet left the ring with his arm raised as the victor. Then he was called back to the ring to reaffirm the decision after some controversy, and then finally notified back in his hotel room that he had lost after all. As the saying goes, you just couldn’t make this stuff up. Plus, it was live for all to see on HBO.
On the other side of the ledger, he has 44 victories with 28 knockouts. Yet, for all of his accomplishments, he hasn’t yet received the respect that he deserves, possibly the fate of a dominant American in the lower weight classes because of the lack of rivalries with name recognition.
The second reason for my interest is Mark’s father, Abraham “Ham” Johnson , whom I met for the first time about 37 years ago. Ham and I worked together stocking shelves in a grocery store then, back when his nickname was “Shorty,” for his 5’3” frame. Now, I understand , he is called “Cigar,” so he has no shortage of names to call him.
Ham was training fighters even then. One such pugilist, “Choo-Choo,” may have had a promising career had I not kept him away from his training regimen. Johnson reminds me of the nights that I slept in his car, and the days that he hid me with large boxes when supervision arrived because those bloodshot eyes didn’t come from staying up reading all night. We worked and played together on and off through the years, but had lost contact in the past 15 years as he retired from his grocery job to train and manage Mark full time.
Father-son corner teams that last over 15 years in boxing are as rare as a Democrat giving the Keynote speech at a Republican Convention. It’s not easy to make solid judgments in the corner when it’s your flesh and blood that’s taking the shots inside the ropes. But Team Johnson rolls along, meshed together like a finely oiled machine.
I called him for the purpose of doing an interview for this article. But I had a secondary reason- I just wanted to see my friend. Though I offered lunch, Johnson told me that he preferred to conduct the interview at his home, speaking in his typically boisterous, humorous manner.
But when I set foot on the porch of his Washington D.C. town home, Ham embraced me as if I were a long, lost son, in a moment reminiscent of the closing scene of “The Shawshank Redemption.” When we had talked on the phone, Johnson hadn’t connected his old friend as being a boxing reporter, He just simply talks that way to everyone.
As I entered his home, my first glance to my left was to his office. He had papers in piles from one end of his desk to another, making my own slovenly work area at home seem to be a paragon of organization. Entering his living room, a visitor couldn’t help but be struck by the multitude of trophies and awards that enveloped the room, including one huge gold statuette with a boxer just slightly shorter than Ham at the top, which was the Washington D.C. Mayor’s Cup, presented by Marion Barry, then Mayor of D.C. Also conspicuous were two awards that he received for being the first recipient of the then prestigious Jacob Lehrman award for humanitarianism in 1975. One was a large gold trophy to commemorate the honor, the other was a small plaque just slightly larger than a wallet. That one came with a $500 check to go to the youth of Washington D.C. that Ham had helped keep off the streets with his boxing program. Using money out of his own pocket , he assisted kids with purchasing boxing gloves and equipment, helped kids with sick mothers, smoothing over brushes with the law, and sometimes simply a meal. Johnson was unable to ever say no to the youth he supported. Johnson recalled that he accepted the award with tears in his eyes.
As the tape rolled throughout our conversation, Johnson fields calls from friends, associates, and “Cookie,” whom he described as a 6’3” beauty. Somehow he manages not to impede our interview without once being rude to the callers, promising to return all of the calls.
The conversation turned to his beginnings- the sadness and shame that he felt when his wife left him in 1962- two weeks after his mother died. He remembered how he filled that void by taking kids who wanted to learn boxing to the #2 Boys Club, and later to the Elliot Rec Center in 1969. Ham told me about his pride that a boxing show at the 17 th street gym against a white team from Laurel , Maryland came off without a hitch during the 1968 Washington riots when he boarded their bus and led the Laurel team into the gym.
Those were not easy days. I can recall driving down route 301 to see motels marked “white only” or “colored only” throughout that decade. Yet, I walked the streets of D.C. without a moment of fear due to my association with Johnson. Yet , as I recalled in my book, “In Search of the Perfect Banana, ” available at Keepitcoming.net., “Choo-Choo and I cleared out a bar called “The End Zone” when a group of men in rebel hats taunted us just one step too far, apparently confusing us with some of the college pacifists.
After Ham served as a chauffer for the Israeli Embassy at age 21, he came to Giant Food, then a family run company that embraced the concept of the term “Family” when referring to its employees. A tall, pale recruiter in a crew cut fresh from the U.S. Marines told him that he had failed the test for employment. When Ham heard the man in the crew cut laughing with some others about the test, he called the owner’s son, Manny Cohen, and was given the job.
Johnson refers to his night crew days as “boot camp.” While there was a great deal of camaraderie between the night stockers inside the store, on the outside it was another matter. Johnson recalls his hurt that the crew would go to Laurel race track after work, but upon their arrival , they wouldn’t sit with him, citing concerns of the KKK as an excuse. Eventually things got better, and he remained there for 31 years, “sacrificing the big time.” as he put it, because he needed the money and benefits to take care of his family.
On the other hand, boxing was a labor of love, though he recalls the disappointments of being unable to accompany his team to the Nationals, because of a lack of money and not having enough champions. Without their coach, the team performed poorly.
One kid that he saw with great potential had fast hands , but with little rhythm was hit too easily, learned movement under Ham’s tutelage by working out to James Brown music. The young man lost a close decision to Sugar Ray Leonard in the 1975 Golden Gloves that took 20 minutes to send in the scores. During the fight Ray twice sat in the wrong corner between rounds. But, at the Nationals he turned in a lackluster performance without his coach, and gradually faded away.
From that point on, Ham’s teams ran off 13 straight amateur championships. During that great run, Johnson coached some good fighters, including former Middleweight Champ , William Joppy. . On the mention of Joppy, I mentioned his poor performance against Hopkins last December in Atlantic City . Like a fierce mother hen, Ham remains loyal to his former student , praising his heart for going the distance in a one sided fight that was probably a shutout for Hopkins. He further confides that Joppy won a $15,000 side bet from Hopkins to last the distance.
Ham uses his sense of humor to make it fun for the fighters in the ring, and also to deliver signals. I call it “Shortyspeak.” A fighter gasping for air in the corner gets a pat on the hip, coupled with, “Do you love me?” “Bring up the graveyard dirt” means that the opponent is in trouble and ready to be knocked out. “Stepover T+T rib sandwich” stands for two kidney shots. “Hot sauce, Norton” is an overhand right. “Whipped potato chip” is an uppercut. What kind of interpreter can the broadcasters put in the corner to figure that strategy?
I had to ask his opinion on some questions, asking him for short answers so that this article wouldn’t be longer than the Ring Record Book:
Swann: Who is the best fighter ever? Johnson: Sugar Ray Robinson
Swann: Best fight ever? Johnson: Any of the Gatti- Ward trilogy. [ Johnson is an admirer of Buddy McGirt.]
Swann: Biggest upset? Johnson: Mayorga- Forest 1
Swann: Are head butts on the upswing as an offensive weapon? Johnson: How about low blows?
Swann: Best local [D.C.] fighter? Don’t include Mark Johnson. Johnson: [ Hesitates, thinks, and looks at me sheepishly.] Mark Johnson
Interestingly, when I asked him if he felt that today’s fighters lacked the heart of previous generations, he replied that the older fighters came to fight, not to dance. But he added that every fight has a plan prepared by the corner, and sometimes it’s the plan that is bad, making the fighter look unprepared, uninspired, or just plain confused. In that case , he told me , occasionally the corner has to save the fighter to fight another day.
Right now, the goal of the Johnson clan is to beat Ivan “Choko” Hernandez, 19-0-1, with 12 knockouts, a 21 year old fighter described as a slick counterpuncher, on the Jones Jr. undercard. After that, Ham says that they want their old belt back, meaning the IBF title, from Perez on November 13 th .
And then? Ham says they would like to move up one more time to challenge Marquez for payback. Johnson insists that the long layoff brought about because of Mark’s legal problems set him back somewhat, much like other athletes who return after a long layoff, and Mark fought Rafael only four months after his return.
He may have a point there. The most famous exception, Sugar Ray Leonard, fought a great fight against Marvin Hagler after only one poor fight in five years. But, he never fought that well again, and since Hagler never fought again period, you have to wonder if they were both on the downside in their exciting contest, only Hagler more so.
As I tap these words to the keyboard, I have one eye on my watch because I’m meeting Ham and Mark for an evening at the gym. Ham Johnson is the same man that I met so many years ago. He thirsts for glory for his son, but takes his own satisfaction in simple ways. When Mark fought Arthur Johnson, [no relation], an Angelo Dundee fighter, in February 1998, Ham approached Dundee and told him that he respected Dundee as the best trainer that he ever saw. But, he couldn’t resist challenging Angelo to a wager that would require the great trainer to light Ham’s cigar when his fighter was defeated. Dundee ‘s man was KO’d in the first round.
Abraham Johnson is a man of pride, content to stand in the shadows as “The Best Little Trainer That No One Knows.” The apple didn’t fall far from the tree either. Mark Johnson is not one of those fighters that promotes a fight with his lips, satisfied to reach his objective inside the ring with his fists. There’s still time remaining for him to attract some big paydays after he satisfies his quest to unify the title. Then he may still have time to climb one last mountain to boxing immortality, but you’ll never hear it from him.
Coming Soon… Footprints, Part 2, The Mark Johnson Story