(DEC 14) "If I got a chance to do it over, I'd change one thing, and one thing only: I'd go to Holly, personally, and ask her, fighter to fighter, for a rewrap. She's the only one I respect and I really think she would have done it. She wanted to fight and so did I." This is Melissa Hernandez, last Thursday, sitting in Gleasons Gym, with Belinda Laracuente, speaking, somewhat wistfully, it seemed to a listener, about the aborted ten round bout with Holly Holm in Albuquerque, NM on December 4. "It was a simple situation that spiraled out of control and a very good fight didn't happen."

Asked why, to a "simple situation," there wasn't a simple solution, Hernandez replied, "The issue of not seeing my opponent's hands being wrapped, something that is critical, especially given recent events in the sport of boxing, became a distraction in my mind. Do I think 'something funny' was going on, probably not, but the fact that no one on my team had witnessed the actual wrapping of her (Holm) hands would have been a tick in the back of my mind all night and you need a crystal clear mind when you climb through the ropes."

Belinda Laracuente has been described, in various media reports, as having inspected Holm's wrapped hands and was subsequently quoted as saying (the wraps were) "good to go." Asked about this, Laracuente says, "I saw her hands already wrapped and said, 'good,' but, in no way was I indicating any type of acceptance, particularly if I thought it was an issue with my fighter. When I found out that was the case (Hernandez was concerned no one had seen Holm's hands wrapped), we formally requested a rewrap and the commission refused. Our team regrouped, waited a few minutes and repeated our request, which was, again, refused. It was at this point, that we took the position that the rewrap issue could endanger the bout." It was also, at this time, that a "simple situation" began to move toward the point where a very intriguing boxing match between two very good female fighters began it's path towards collapse.

Subsequent events including an offer to rewrap Holm's hands, accusations of demands for more money, the circumstances surrounding a substitute bout, quickly followed, in domino fashion, until the possibility of Holly Holm and Melissa Hernandez climbing into the ring on that night disappeared. Laracuente noted, "After waiting for someone to settle the 'wrap issue' and coming to the conclusion that it was not going to happen, we announced we were leaving. I don't know whether anyone believed us or not, but we walked out past everyone sitting at ringside, we didn't sneak away and hide." Hernandez adds, "It wasn't about money, no matter what anyone says, it was about fairness and safety. It was about the fight. If money was the major issue I would have climbed into the ring. When I didn't, I came away with nothing."

Is this but one side of the story? Of course. Is there another, conflicting, contrary view of the events of that Friday night. Absolutely. And that other view has been thoroughly detailed in various media outlets since that night. These conflicting views have split the boxing community into camps that have, on the one hand, called for a metaphorical public lynching of Melissa Hernandez and, on the other side, proffered unconditional support for the fighter. As with any "he said/she said" debate of this sort, the real story probably lies somewhere in the middle. But, in point of fact, the root cause of the Holm/Hernandez bout not happening was, indeed, a "simple situation" (dare it be labeled a case of "tape and gauze"). Should the Hernandez camp have been a bit more studious making sure someone, on their team, witnessed the original wrapping of Holly Holm's hands? Sure. Should the Holm team, realizing the concern, in the Hernandez camp over the fact that no one had witnessed the wrapping, been slightly more acquiescent in agreeing to a rewrap? Yes.

But here's something about the whole night and the various issues, big and small, relevant and minor, that prevented a good fight from happening. Given all the boxing "officials" from local commissions, national sanctioning bodies, along with other experienced boxing personages who were, literally and figuratively, "in the house," why wasn't there one boxing person who was prepared to step up and take charge of the situation? Because the fact is, no one did. There was a lot of talking between and among all the principals, but nowhere was there someone, anyone, from any of these boxing organizations, which were, ostensibly, charged with assuring that the Holm/Hernandez bout happened, who simply took charge and put everyone concerned in one room and said, in effect, "we're not leaving until we settle this and get on with what we're here for, ten rounds of good boxing between two good female fighters." Where was that person? Absent. No one stood up, no one took charge, everyone just kept talking past each other, and a "simple situation" KO'd a good fight.

And right there, at that moment, everyone who has followed the sport of Women's boxing, even casually, had to have the same sinking feeling: "here we go again." Because what happened at Isleta Casino in Albuquerque on December 4 was, quite simply, what's been happening in the sport of Women's boxing for far too long. It's a fundamental flaw within the entire sport: a complete lack of leadership. Albuquerque was one night and one fight card, but it was the history of Women's boxing, writ small. And what did the fans of Women's boxing receive from the commissions and sanctioning bodies and the other heavy breathing pontificators charged with moving the sport forward, on this night in Albuquerque? Nothing constructive, unless inane accusations, dumfounded silences and subsequent press releases expressing "Captain Renault" like "shock" (shock!) at the proceedings can be considered useful.

And thus, what could have been, what should have been a good night for the sport of Women's boxing turned sour. What's next? Melissa Hernandez promises she's not going anywhere, except back to the gym, despite or maybe because of what happened in Albuquerque. "I'm still hungry and I'm still ready for anyone, 122 pounds and up," she said, in Gleasons. And, of course, she'll get the opportunity, simply because boxing always has been and always will be a business and promoters know good business and good fighters go together. Hernandez will get opportunities notwithstanding the mostly meaningless suspensions imposed by a tribal commission in New Mexico and a national sanctioning body, presumably still working out their shock. And Holly Holm, who, throughout the "weeping and gnashing of teeth" of that night and it's aftermath, has maintained the quiet dignity that has always epitomized her career in the professional ring, now has a clear path, pending negotiations, to "the fight" for her and for her sport, a bout with Anne Sophie Mathis. Just one hope: If Holm/Mathis happens, it is put together by boxing people possessing at least a modicum of leadership; leadership that understands and empathizes with female boxers and their sport. By definition that will eliminate any of the "old boys club" who stood around in Albuquerque, while a good fight night turned bad.

Bernie McCoy