If history is any indicator, this week's national Golden Gloves boxing tournament is something you'll want to see. Cassius Clay, Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield and Sugar Ray Leonard are tournament alumni.
With any luck, an international star will emerge from this year's group. In five years, you can say you were there at the beginning. Besides, this sort of thing doesn't come around often. This is the first time in 41 years Salt Lake City has hosted the tournament. Which makes a person wonder: Where has the Sweet Science been hiding itself, anyway?
The answers vary, but one explanation involves government heavy-handedness, which effectively KO'd boxing in Utah more than two decades ago.
Nothing scares off business like a profit-killing tax.
Utah has a formidable boxing history. Jack Dempsey fought and trained here as a young man. Jay Lambert, Gene Fullmer, Rex Layne and Danny Lopez — all Utahns — started here and went on to national and even international acclaim.
Word in the gyms was you didn't want to mess with the Utah guys. They were tough, motivated and unafraid to lead with their faces.
Just check out some of their old pictures for verification.
But Utah didn't just produce fighters, it hosted a lot of bouts. Future champs came here and on their way to the top. Most of the arenas, like the Golden Spike Coliseum and Fairgrounds Coliseum, smelled bad and were poorly lit, but fans came in droves nonetheless. It looked like a scene from the film "Raging Bull." (Incidentally, former champ Jake "Raging Bull" LaMotta visited here to promote the movie. He apparently thought this was an important enough boxing/movie market to appear.)
Dempsey often listed Salt Lake as his residence, with good reason. Utah is the place where he sent Boston Bearcat to dreamland in the first round of a bout in 1916, same place he rang Fireman Jim Flynn's bell. It's also where he mailed Billy Murphy, Jim Johnson and Joe Lyons home in a box.
It wasn't until halfway through his 83-bout career that he stopped coming back to Utah to fight.
Meanwhile, Lopez defended his world featherweight title in the old Salt Palace in 1979 by decking Roberto Castanon. It was a big event. Howard Cosell showed up ringside, calling Salt Lake a cowtown and waving a big cigar.
Max Baer, "Gentleman" Jim Corbett, Archie Moore and George Foreman fought here, as well.
That's a long, rich history.
But in the late 20th century, the sport faded in Utah. A state tax imposed on professional boxing took its toll. Promoters decided to take their business elsewhere — most notably Las Vegas. Tom Steinke, who was on the State Athletic Commission in the 1970s and '80s, was charged with collecting fees as soon as the fights were done.
"The promoters got scared off with the tax," said Steinke. "We didn't draw after that."
In Steinke's estimation, the move also chilled amateur boxing. No pro fights on Saturday night meant less interest among the kids. People started finding other things to do. With the '90s came the rise of pro wrestling and the advent of mixed martial arts.
Suddenly, boxing everywhere was as dated as the telegraph.
The days of local stars like Cookie Valencia, Tony Pulu, Jeff Shelburg, Steamboat Young and Javier Flores were gone.
"Those guys faded out; there was no local flavor to speak of professionally," said Steinke.
On the upbeat side, three Utah amateurs — Alex Canez, Isaac Aguilar and Jose Haro — competed this week in the nationals. But whether the sport can return to its glory years is debatable. It has been weakened by decades of scandal and infighting among the numerous world boxing organizations, thinned by competition from other sports. Even with films like "Million Dollar Baby" and "Cinderella Man" becoming big hits, you wonder: Can boxing make a comeback?
"That's a tough question," said Steinke. "I think it depends on the youth — how many kids are in the ranks and can gain a following."
Considering Utah's pugilistic history, this seems as good a place as any to start.
E-mail: rock@desnews.com