SAN ANTONIO – The Illusions Theatre made its debut as a boxing venue here Saturday. Named in a nod to irony, Illusions is not a theater at all. Rather, it is a northern edge of Alamodome festooned with pastel-lighted bunting and a perimeter of dark sheets, in a cavernous oaf’s loveable attempt at intimacy.
Two miles north of Alamodome and eight hours before Illusions Theatre opened for boxing, the Pearl Farmers Market made its weekly appearance on the grounds of a renovated complex of shops and restaurants that stand where J. B. Behloradsky Brewery was founded in 1881 along the banks of San Antonio River. On Saturday mornings, there is a booth hosted by Restaurant Gwendolyn – a concept dining spot with food prepared from 19th century recipes and only with 19th century implements – whose owner and executive chef, Michael Sohocki, also created the menu for a quirky and teeming eatery called The Cove, which features organic foods and is bookended by a carwash and a landromat.
All four downtown spots – Alamodome, Pearl Farmers Market, Restaurant Gwendolyn, and The Cove – are, in their own ways, about sustainability. And in some part, so was Saturday’s boxing card.
People unfamiliar with South Texas might be surprised to learn of its outstanding commitment to sustainability. John Mackey and Rene Lawson founded Whole Foods just 80 miles from here. Texas politics may be unpalatable to many Americans, but they have exceedingly little to do with the people who reside in these hundreds of miles between Austin and Mexico.
Agricultural sustainability, as an idea, is, like most things worth considering, more complicated than advertised. Eating locally grown foods is the wisest dietary course, yes, but the popularity of Pearl Farmers Market and The Cove raises an interesting question: Will a revolution of local organic eating not cannibalize itself eventually? As an urban area grows, and its consumption of healthy foods grows with it, is it not fated to become another victim of capitalism’s creative destruction – with demand outpacing supply while farmland is overworked even as its acreage contracts to accommodate an expanding metropolis?
Texas boxing remains sustainable because of its fanbase. Most of the last decade, as show after show moved to desert casinos where sellouts to scalpers happened before tickets went on sale, our sport’s intelligent commentators begged for a more sustainable model of putting local draws in their hometown settings, reducing ticket prices and allowing our sport to play to full houses. Texas answered that call.
The Texas Department of Licensing and Regulation (TDLR), whose officials supervise boxing, has its flaws. It has a reputation for appointing judges that favor local fighters. It employs referees whose collective discretion attracts scrutiny. But many of its recent controversies – such as the scorecards for Tavoris Cloud versus Gabriel Campillo – are disagreements on subjective matters that only appear objective because television invents a form of populist outrage then reports it. Much of the discontent with Texas boxing is discontent with the moment – Great Recession, social media, uncertainty – projected on boxing, never at a loss for outrageous happenings, and subsequently projected on Texas, where more boxing happens than in other states.
Would that those who regularly malign the TDLR had been ringside immediately after Saturday’s main event between Evgeny “Mexican Russian” Gradovich and Frankie “Little Soldier” Leal. Twenty-nine brutal minutes of combat, minutes in which Gradovich often got the better of Leal but not by much, found Leal vulnerable to a crisp left hook from Gradovich. Leal hit the blue mat. He rose well before referee Rafael Ramos’ 10-count was through. Then Leal stumbled a step rightwards.
Ramos immediately stopped the match. Other TDLR officials climbed through the ropes and signaled for cornernmen and hangers-on to remain off the canvas while they conducted an evaluation of Leal’s lucidity. Although Leal was conscious and able to answer questions, TDLR officials removed him from the ring on a gurney and immediately transported him and his team to a local hospital, where Leal was able to respond to doctors.
It was a timely reminder that TDLR’s primary obligation is not to tackling cornermen, overruling referees or concurring with made-for-television scorecards. It is to fighter safety. If you keep fighters safe, most other offenses are forgivable.
Former lineal middleweight champion Kelly Pavlik, for whom the majority of ringside personnel gathered at Illusions Theatre, has not been a picture of sustainability lately. Saturday marked Pavlik’s second appearance in a prizefighting ring in 23 months. He wore Miami Dolphins teal and orange, and even more tattoos. He also stretched his Florida opponent with a left-hook lead in the second round.
Acreage and sustainability: Pavlik now nears the logical end of his body-art project, a project whose expansion has been inversely proportionate to his success as a prizefighter. Pavlik’s body will never again resemble that of the man who stopped Jermain Taylor, a single tattoo on each shoulder, but there is near-universal hope that his form someday approximates it.
That hope is prevalent among those Top Rank people who, Saturday, composed their typical picture of professionalism. Men like publicist Ricardo Jimenez – who often handles his employer’s underdogs and invariably becomes their friend and loyal fan – are why Top Rank shows are a model of organization.
Top Rank’s people gathered on the south side of the ring, Saturday, with the media. Behind them was a black curtain and behind that a few hundred yards of empty Alamodome floorspace. Since it failed at its first purpose – attracting an NFL franchise – Alamodome has been quite a few things. Illusions Theatre is a latest try at making something sustainable of the Alamodome idea.
Someday, this city’s planners sagaciously might choose to employ Alamodome’s enormous and usually empty lots as the landing for a downtown-shuttle service. In the meantime, Illusions Theatre and Texas boxing deserve plaudits for their Saturday efforts.
Bart Barry can be reached at bart.barrys.email (at) gmail.com
