NASHVILLE, Tenn. – Southwest Flight 3589 out of Las Vegas was just finishing boarding Sunday afternoon when a couple of Nashvillians were chit-chatting about the previous night’s David Benavidez-David Morrell Jnr fight at T-Mobile Arena. Talk turned to the boxing scene back home and a club series at The Troubadour – a theater situated across the street from old Opryland, northeast of downtown Nashville – called Country Box.
“That’s where I’m going.”
The voice came from above, near the cabin ceiling, and when the passengers turned and peered upward, they found a hulkling, fit middle-aged man in a ball cap and t-shirt standing in the aisle and waiting to take his seat.
“I’m fighting Oliver McCall Tuesday,” he said.
That’s how I met “Gentleman” Gary Cobia, the 52-year-old heavyweight who makes Clearfield, Utah, his home and boxing his second job – behind his position as a Davis County Sheriff’s deputy. And, yes, Cobia will have a go at McCall – the 59-year-old former heavyweight titleholder who 30 years ago handed Lennox Lewis his first career defeat – on Thursday at the Troubadour in Country Box 29.
After we land and disembark, Cobia smiles, shakes my hand and says he’d be glad to walk and talk if I could just show him where to grab his bags. Along the way, he shares that he grew up in Pocatello, Idaho, loves raising his family in Utah and landed the McCall fight on a lark. He phoned Country Box head (and former McCall manager) Jimmy Adams out of the blue to ask about a fight with McCall, who stopped Stacy Frazier in his most recent outing, a November show at the Troubadour.
Cobia heard through a friend – Billy Zumbrun, a former heavyweight out of Ogden, Utah, who had stopped Frazier all the way back in 2006 – that McCall was looking for more fights with age-appropriate competition. Cobia hadn’t fought professionally in a decade, but after watching McCall put down Frazier on YouTube, he couldn’t help himself. He looked up Adams through BoxRec, put in a call and volunteered his services. The answer was yes – but with McCall pushing 60, the clock was ticking.
“They said, ‘OK, well, why don’t you come down right away?’” Cobia recalled. “‘You know, how about two weeks? Can you come?’
“‘No, no. You got to give me three months to get in shape.’ Because I hadn’t done this for a while. But I did it – I got in shape – and here we are.”
Cobia is taking the fight seriously – he’s down to 15 per cent body fat and looks as strong as a musk ox – but seems to understand the optics of the situation. McCall wouldn’t be the first former boxing headliner, especially among heavyweights, to stick around the game too long, or come back well after his sell-by date, whether it be for a big cash grab, to relive past glories or just to pay the rent. And because the whiff of the Jake Paul-Mike Tyson fight still lingers months later, it would be convenient to call any McCall fight a sideshow.
Yet while McCall and Cobia have quite likely lived more years than they have left, only seven years separate them – and the elder is a former heavyweight titleholder, while the other is a 3-4 (1 KO) fighter who hasn’t stepped into a pro ring in a decade. No one expects their four-rounder to be placed on the mantle next to Oleksandr Usyk-Tyson Fury. In the same breath, no one can say it can’t be competitive.
And for Cobia, the action – to borrow a phrase – is the juice. He has been boxing off and on since he was a kid, always eventually answering its tug on him. First, it was throwing hands with friends as a teenager. (“We loved it,” he said.) In time, in his late 20s, he embarked on a belated amateur career. Cobia didn’t take his first pro fight until 2012. When he lost to Fred Spitzenberg in both fighters’ debut, Cobia didn’t quit. Seven months later, he took on former title contender Gerald Washington – and lost again. In fact, he lost his first three fights, then got saddled with a no-contest. Cobia didn’t earn his first win until a rematch with Spitzenberg, dropping to his knees at the official announcement. When Spitzenberg scoffed at the unanimous decision – “He rocked me pretty good in the second round, and it could have been a draw,” Cobia said – he granted his opponent a rubber match. This time he beat Spitzenberg even more decisively.
“I want to redeem my losses,” Cobia said. “I want to learn from them and grow and continue on. I mean, regardless of age or not, I just want to be successful in whatever [I do].
“I think that is the biggest motivator of anything – I just want to succeed … regardless if it’s a huge success or small success. I just want to continue pushing forward at whatever is placed in front of me.”
Cobia has five kids of his own – his oldest in his mid-20s, with three more still living at home. He’s a single parent with a stable, full-time career in law enforcement, in an area he describes as being “great to raise a family.” He has two marriages behind him. He has more losses in the ring than wins. Life, with all its turns, comes at him. He keeps lacing up the gloves.
Cobia and his Tuesday opponent, in that sense, will share more than just a ring. McCall, 60-14 (39 KOs), is remembered at least as much for his drug-induced meltdown in a 1997 rematch with Lewis as he is for his spectacular upset in their first fight. He has spent time behind bars and in rehab. He has recovered, slipped and recovered again. He helped guide his son, Elijah McCall to a pro career. After 2019, he didn’t fight for more than five years. Then, last November at The Troubadour, he returned to stop Frazier. He’s still going. Still trying.
Cobia became a fan after the first Lewis fight, when McCall edged former heavyweight champ Larry Holmes in his twilight. In the pre-fight lead-up, Cobia said, “Larry Holmes was giving him a bunch of crap, and I just liked how respectful Oliver was.” On Monday’s weigh-in day, McCall chopped it up with Cobia about the old days – his 1991 stoppage of Bruce Seldon, his 10th-round knockout of Henry Akinwande – and left an impression.
“Please don’t say anything mean about Oliver,” Cobia asked politely.
“He’s a really great guy. He’s just a genuine individual.”
And a fighter, Cobia is quick to note, who still throws a mean right hand. He also mentions McCall’s sturdy chin and long forearms, which he uses effectively to block punches. (Over all the years, McCall has supposedly never been knocked down.) And despite his decisive height advantage, Cobia will give up six inches in reach in the ring Tuesday.
But … come on. McCall turns 60 in April. Vinny Pazienza is 60. Nigel Benn is 60. Sixty-year-old Bernard Hopkins – the granddaddy of all graybeard boxers – retired almost a decade ago. How much could McCall possibly have left to give?
“You know, I’m no spring chicken either,” Cobia said matter-of-factly.
“I mean, just like anybody, we all decay, you know? But I think he’s still got a good punch.”
It’s a fair point. McCall isn’t what he once was – but how many of us are? Cobia says power is the last thing to go for a fighter, and McCall is only a few months removed from blasting out Frazier. A quick YouTube viewing of the fight shows a McCall who is slower, fleshier, less active. But that punch? It’s there, still formidable.
Cobia wants to test himself against that punch. Why wouldn’t he? Why not step into the batter’s box and take another cut? Figure out the stuff you’re made of against an ex-champ? Grab the wheel, fight against the oncoming tide and maybe – maybe – spit out over the top of it?
And if we aren’t here for it – all of us – then exactly what the hell are we here for?
Jason Langendorf is the former Boxing Editor of ESPN.com, was a contributor to Ringside Seat and the Queensberry Rules, and has written about boxing for Vice, The Guardian, Chicago Sun-Times and other publications. A member of the Boxing Writers Association of America, he can be found at LinkedIn and followed on X and Bluesky.
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