‘Why is Mike Perez ranked fifth at heavyweight?’ and other questions

Every month, I waste hours studying the rankings of each of the sanctioning bodies. I have been undertaking this pointless exercise for something approaching 40 years – which is testament to my hopeless and unfathomable devotion to boxing.

Though a bottle of whisky would be a more useful companion, I tend to peruse the rankings with a pen and paper so I can make notes on the sheer absurdity I’m reading. Within minutes – and feel free to try this at home – a long list of questions magically appears on the page in front of you.

Here are some from my latest set of notes:

Why is Mike Perez ranked by the WBA as the fifth-best heavyweight contender when he has fought exclusively at cruiserweight since 2015?

Why do the same organizations place Ian Green, who has yet to partake in a bout scheduled for more than eight rounds, as high as No. 3 at middleweight but none of the WBC, IBF and WBO ranks him at all?

Another one for the WBA: Why is Danny Garcia No. 11 in the middleweight rankings when he has been inactive since July 2022 and the most he has weighed for a bout is 152¾ pounds? (And don’t tell me it’s because he has a fight with Erislandy Lara coming up – that’s not how rankings should work.)

In a similar vein, what has the completely inactive Errol Spence Jr. done as a 154-pounder to merit his spot atop the WBC rankings?  

A couple for the IBF: Why place Craig Richards 14th at light heavyweight but refuse to rate Willy Hutchinson, who beat Richards about five minutes ago? And does your organization seriously believe that Tyson Fury is not among the best 16 heavyweights in the world?

One for all of you: Do you know what the word “interim” really means?

Another for all of you: What’s the deal with ranking Conor Benn so highly at welterweight when he hasn’t made the welterweight limit for 28 months?

Two more: How can you all agree that William Zepeda is the No. 1 contender at lightweight and agree on absolutely nothing else? Do you not all watch the same fights?

Pass me the whisky. I’m just getting started.

I’ve not yet been able to identify quite why I find these rankings so moreish, but I can’t seem to get enough. When each body publishes its latest monthly charts, I stop everything and start studying the inane rise of the undeserving or search for the complete unknown who has been airlifted into the rankings without warning. “Ha, here the WBA goes again,” I tell myself while scanning Random McNoname’s record on BoxRec.

To compare and contrast, I dug out several rankings from decades gone by and sat in bed reading them, the stench of the old magazines filling the room while my wife, who is thankfully at ease with my condition, asked what I was doing. “I am reading the various boxing rankings from March 1987,” I replied. What did she think I was doing?

As a child in the 1980s and a teenager in the 1990s, I would study the WBC, WBA and IBF rankings while cross-referencing the magazine’s own ratings for context. Even as a child, I was acutely aware that it was the rankings compiled by boxing writers that were significantly more accurate than those constructed by people actually in the business of handing out belts.

However, back then – perhaps due to the absence of daft interim and regular titles and significantly fewer utterly bogus gongs, like all that intercontinental fluff – the sanctioning-body rankings didn’t seem quite as ridiculous as they do today. Frequently, the three major associations (this was before the WBO was suddenly legitimized) wouldn’t be wildly dissimilar in their choices – in that, as many as seven or eight boxers in any given weight class could boast top-10 placements with all three sanctioning bodies and the standout leading contender might be ranked No. 1 by all.

For example, in August 1992, the WBA, WBC and IBF all agreed that Riddick Bowe, Razor Ruddock and Lennox Lewis were the three leading heavyweight contenders to Evander Holyfield, who happened to own all the belts at the time. Two out of three even had the same five fighters in their top five when George Foreman and Tony Tucker were added to the mix. (Today, 12 different boxers – 13 if you include NOT RATED – take up the top five positions across the four sets of rankings. Again, do you not watch the same fights?)

At cruiserweight, Orlin Norris was the No. 1 contender for all three organizations; at light heavy, Frank Tate was mandatory for two; likewise with Cristano Espana at welterweight, Juan Martin Coggi at junior welter and Kevin Kelley at featherweight. And even if the bodies couldn’t all agree on the specific placements, a top contender from sanctioning body A would nine times out of 10 get a rating with sanctioning body B and C, too. Today, if a boxer happens to make it to the mandatory position of one organization – or even has the audacity to sign a contract to challenge for a different title – they’re then chucked out of the rankings of all the others by way of punishment for pursuing a rival belt.

But to say they were without fault back then would be akin to an exhaust pipe falling off a car with a flat tire and claiming it was a smooth ride. By June 1997, the leading contenders at heavyweight (according to you know who) were Zelijko Mavoric, Vaughan Bean and Henry Akinwande. So whether you’re looking at alphabet rankings from 1984, 1994, 2004, 2014 or 2024, it’s clear they’ve been backfiring gunk into the boxing cosmos for years.

There has never been a time when three or more rankings organizations have been good for the sport of boxing but, concerningly, they’re perhaps more out of control than ever before. What’s a little more comforting, perhaps, is that the sanctioning bodies have always driven those of sane mind crazy.

In the June 1989 edition of “World Boxing,” Steve Farhood wrote: “What a relief! We received the first set of ratings from the fledgling World Boxing Organization [WBO], and we’re happy to report that, as expected, we won’t have to take the WBO seriously.”

Two months later, the brilliant – but sadly now defunct – “KO” celebrated its 100th issue and marked the occasion by naming the most influential people in boxing during those 100 editions. Of then-WBC head Jose Sulaiman, it wrote: “Sulaiman has made a mockery of his organization’s ratings, discriminatingly enforced the rules that require champions to make mandatory title defenses, and forged a relationship with [Don] King that critics insist has led Sulaiman to grant some King fighters higher ratings than they deserve.”

On then-IBF boss Bob Lee: “Lee wanted to establish an American-based ruling body, since the most important fights were being staged, and the most important decisions being made, in the United States. But with its often-bizarre ratings, its previous coddling of former champion Larry Holmes, and its continual threat to strip [Mike] Tyson of his crown, the IBF has proved to be an even bigger joke than the WBA and WBC.”

On then-WBA head Gilberto Mendoza: “Under Mendoza’s four terms as WBA president, the organization has repeatedly issued the worst ratings of any of the four ruling bodies. (Though, in time, the WBO may prove to be worse.) … Curiously, Mendoza’s re-election last year was announced by promoter Don King before the voting was held.”

In his November 1993 editorial for “Boxing Illustrated,” the late, great Bert Randolph Sugar cried for reform: “What have these Alphabet Soup Groups done for the sport? Setting up their stands on every available street corner like 10-cent lemonade stands, they charge outrageous sanctioning fees for title bouts and then, in return, give the winner a belt that looks like it’s made out of the broken beer bottles picked up off the Santa Monica Freeway. And they rate fighters – more times than not taking money under, over and around the table, and in some cases even taking the table itself, for bestowing their recognition on some ‘worthy’ contender for their title.”

I’m sending another whisky your way, Bert.