Ask Eric Esch, a k a Butterbean, which is his best punch, and he'll point to the nearest TV monitor.
"You tell me," he says.
The tape rolls and up comes a replay of his 19-second bout against George Linberger. The fight ends with a heavy left hook that sends Linberger to Neverland.
But don't overlook the overhand right that took out Jimmy Baker in just 18 seconds, either.
"I have a lot in my arsenal," he says darkly.
If this sounds like boxing mumbo jumbo, so be it. This is, after all, show biz. Today at noon, at the Enola Gay Hangar in Wendover, Utah, Butterbean fights Ogden corrections officer Billy Zumbrun in a four-round bout. After two decades of mostly silence, professional boxing is back in Utah. Judging by this week's buildup, it intends to stick around.
"What people don't understand about boxing is that it's all about marketing," says Butterbean. "Why do you think Hector Camacho came in (to fights) with all that sequin and jewelry?" (Let me guess: He was hoping for a date with RuPaul?)
For that matter, why does a 350-pound fat guy with breasts and a shaved head show up at a Salt Lake private club this week to promote the fight?
Same reason.
It's all about the buildup.
In recent years boxing has taken a back seat to professional wrestling. There's not a pro boxer alive who can out-hype Stone Cold Steve Austin. Still, isn't boxing the sport that gave us the "Thrilla in Manila"? The "Rumble in the Jungle"?
Last week Butterbean and Zumbrun appeared at Port o' Call in Salt Lake City, doing their best to promote this as the biggest boxing event since Leonard-Duran. There was a buffet table stocked with chicken wings, chips, dip and vegetables, beneath a sign that said, "Food for Butterbean Only."
Win or lose, he's not going away hungry.
Ex-Jazz forward Antoine Carr, who reportedly has a nickname of his own, took the stage and shouted, "Are you ready for the fight in Wendover?" When the audience of mostly unsuspecting patrons didn't respond loudly enough, Big Dog shouted, "I didn't HEAR YOU! I said are your READY?"
Apparently fearful he might start barking at any moment, the crowd responded louder the second time.
Soon to follow was the main event — the introductions. The fighters strolled to a stage through clouds of smoke, accompanied by members of the Utah Bikini Team. Butterbean, from Jasper, Ala, flexed as Lynard Skynard growled away on the audio system. The fighters glared and mugged for the cameras.
All in all, a worthy promotions effort.
If the fight flops, it won't be for lack of publicity.
Deciding how seriously to take Butterbean is another matter. He says he's a legitimate fighter, intent on winning a heavyweight championship. But that nickname puts him squarely in pro wrestling territory.
His career began six years ago when he was a 470-pound nobody, assembling mobile homes for a living. Friends convinced him to compete in a local "Toughman" competition. While in training, he went on a chicken-and-butterbean diet, prompting his friends to call out "Butterbean!" at the fight. A cult hero was born.
Claiming a 63-1 record, including 48 straight wins, Butterbean has appeared on The Tonight Show five times. Jay Leno thinks he's funny. Butterbean thinks he's clever.
"I'm intelligent. I can talk," he says.
He demonstrates that by avoiding a question about what his real name is. "I forget that one," he says. "I haven't heard it in so long."
Nighttime talk shows aside, Butterbean has never landed a big payday. That's because challenges to fight Mike Tyson, George Foreman, Lennox Lewis, Evander Holyfield and others have gone unheeded.
NHL enforcer Marty McSorley nearly battled him three years ago but backed out. During the 1999 NBA lockout season, Shaquille O'Neal was actually in training for a bout. But according to Butterbean, once Shaq saw him in a warm-up bout, "He left camp and never came back."
There was also that matter of the lockout ending and O'Neal needing to get back to his day job.
"It's a hard thing to do," says Butterbean. "Those other guys say they have 'nothing to prove by beating him, and he has that big punch.' "
Consequently, instead of fighting Tyson for millions, he's fighting a corrections officer today in Wendover.
Which raises the obvious question: Is Butterbean a real title hopeful with a chance or just a 350-pound tomato can?
As he points out himself, it's all about the marketing.
What difference does it make?
E-mail: rock@desnews.com