The Super Fight was a fictional 1970 boxing match between Rocky Marciano and Muhammad Ali. At the time, Ali and Marciano were the only undefeated heavyweight champions in history and fans often debated who would win had they met in their primes. Ali and Marciano were filmed acting out every possible scenario in a fight and the result was then determined using probability formulas entered into a computer. The final fight was only shown once in selected cinemas around the world and later released as a DVD.
Punch-by-punch details of the boxer’s records during their prime were entered into an NCR 315 computer. Also their strengths, weaknesses, fighting styles and patterns and other factors and scenarios that the boxers could go through were converted into formulas. The NCR-315 with 20K of memory was supplied by SPS (Systems Programming Services), an independent service bureau in Miami Fla. The algorithms were supplied by an NCR mathematician, and programming was done in Fortran by an employee of SPS. Hank Meyer, President and salesman with a one other partner in SPS, was instrumental in setting this competition up, and contended at the time that it was his idea. The actual running of the software was done the night before each broadcast round of the ‘computer championship’ and took approximately 45 minutes to run, the output was a formatted report containing a series of codes describing each punch. This was then written to magnetic tape, the tape was then manually transferred to a Univac 1005 and printed. This early form of “foot-powered” networking was referred to as sneakernet, the reason for doing this was cost, it was cheaper to print on a 1005 than the 315. This took place in early 1968; the NCR 315 was a state-of-the-art computer at the time.
The outcomes were then staged as radio plays with Woroner and radio announcer Guy LeBow as the commentators. The fantasy fights were broadcast worldwide. Even the boxers who were still alive at the time listened to the programs and some of them participated as commentators. After the series of elimination rounds, the final fight was between Dempsey and Marciano. Marciano defeated Dempsey and was considered to be the all-time greatest heavyweight champion by the computer. Woroner awarded the real Marciano a gold and diamond championship belt worth $10,000.
Ali was angered over his loss to Jim Jeffries in the fantasy fights and sued Woroner for $1 million for defamation of character. The lawsuit was settled when Woroner offered to pay Ali $10,000 to participate in a filmed version of his radio fantasy fights in which Ali would fight Marciano. Ali, who had been stripped of his heavyweight title and American boxing license three years prior, agreed on the condition that he would also receive a cut of the film’s profits. Marciano also agreed to participate with a similar deal. The same formulas were used again and entered into the NCR 315. In 1969, filming began in a Miami studio.
Marciano, whose last fight before retiring was 14 years prior, lost over 50 pounds and wore a toupee in order to look as he did in his prime. Even for a “fake” fight, Marciano and Ali really looked forward to meeting each other and getting back in the ring.
The two fighters sparred for about 70 to 75 rounds, which were later spliced together according to the findings of the computer. The final outcome would not be revealed to anyone until the release of the film. Braddock, Louis, Schmeling, Sharkey and Walcott also recorded commentary to be used in the film. Marciano died in a plane crash three weeks after filming wrapped.
On January 20, 1970, the fight was shown only once in 1500 theaters over closed-circuit television in the United States, Canada, and throughout Europe. It grossed $5 million. The computer had determined that Marciano would knock Ali out in the 13th round and the film was edited to present that outcome. All prints of the fight except one were supposed to be immediately destroyed. However, many theaters played the show long after January 20.
The Super Fight was featured in and inspired a major plot point in the 2006 film Rocky Balboa, in which a computer simulation that pits an in-his-prime Rocky against the current world champion, Mason “The Line” Dixon, inspires both men to agree to a real match.
Boxing lessons with Eric Kelly.
A lesson on intimidation by Mike Tyson
Floyd Mayweather Jr: A Welterweight With Heavyweight Financial Clout 
By: Greg Bishop
NY Times, 9/16/2011
LAS VEGAS — On Saturday night, Floyd Mayweather Jr. will make tens of millions of dollars for an hour’s worth of work, if that. He will be paid for what happens inside the ring and outside it, paid far more than any other boxer fighting today, for far more than just his performance in a welterweight title fight against Victor Ortiz. On fight nights, if it were not for the din of the crowd and the sounds of fists striking chins, Mayweather could hear the ringing of cash registers. He earns a percentage of every ticket purchased, every pretzel consumed, every poster sold. He will earn from the foreign countries that paid for broadcasting rights and the movie theaters where the fight is shown. All told, he is expected to make about $40 million, and the checks will come for years, determined by the results of many things beyond the fight itself, like gate and pay-per-view TV numbers. This makes Mayweather, regarded as one of the best boxers in history, a regular among athletes on Forbes magazine’s list of most powerful celebrities, even though the bulk of his annual income is usually generated in one night. All the usual Mayweather descriptions — divisive, arrogant, sensitive, outspoken, controversial — tend to overshadow his business savvy, or the business savvy of those around him. In fact, he fights under a highly unusual financial structure, exchanging upfront risk for back-end profit and retaining total control. Mayweather is even responsible for paying his opponent, in this case a business expense of at least $2 million. Roger Federer does not make money off the sales of strawberries and cream at Wimbledon, nor does Derek Jeter’s contract include the Yankees’ TV contract in Asia. Mayweather has devised an altogether different model for marquee athletes. In his previous four fights, he earned $115 million. How novel is his approach? Just ask him. “It’s never been done,” said Mayweather, who is 41-0. “Not in entertainment history. Not in sports history. You see that arena Saturday? It’s all Mayweather money. Want a hot dog? Mayweather money. Want a T-shirt? Mayweather money. I need all that.” Mayweather, 34, said this after a workout this week at the family boxing gym here. Sweat dripped down his face as he sat on the ring apron in business attire (shorts, hand tape), growing more animated over his favorite subject, money. Money earned. Money wagered. Money spent. Money flashed. Money lost. On that topic, Mayweather said he collected $100,000 the previous night betting on N.F.L. games. He mentioned his 29 cars and charitable donations in the same sentence. He even compared his spending habits to a stimulus package: “If I’m making it rain, I’m throwing it to American citizens. In a recession!” For most of the first 10 years of his career, Mayweather fought for the promotional company Top Rank Boxing, under a more typical model, with most of his money guaranteed upfront. Their split, in 2006, was far from amenable, marked by lawsuits. Once freed, Mayweather met with Leonard Ellerbe and Al Haymon, his most trusted advisers, to develop a new plan. They wanted to control every aspect of the promotion, including the promoters, whom Mayweather hires on a contract basis for each fight. He also changed his nickname, from Pretty Boy Floyd to Money Mayweather, part of a philosophical shift. For his last four fights, Mayweather has hired Golden Boy Promotions, a company started by Oscar De La Hoya but run by Richard Schaefer, a former Swiss banker with no previous boxing background. To explain the business model, Schaeffer starts with a pie. A little more than half the pie goes to the distributors (Time Warner, DirecTV, etc.). The balance goes to the network, HBO or Showtime, which takes its distribution fees and hands the rest to the promoters. In this case, Golden Boy has one contract with HBO and another with Mayweather Promotions. But the money, less what distributors and networks take, is under Mayweather’s control; normally the promoter would control it. That pie is only part of the total revenue, the pay-per-view TV part. To illustrate the other revenue streams, Schaefer pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, a spreadsheet written in 6-point typeface. Drawn out, Schaefer said it would take up two chalkboards, but on the sheet in his pocket, it was boiled down to a formula for how much Mayweather would earn, based on how many people bought the fight and what the other revenue streams brought in. Those streams include: foreign sales for a fight broadcast in 168 territories; closed-circuit revenues (in 2,000 or so bars and restaurants nationwide, in movie theaters and in rooms at Las Vegas casinos); site revenue (ticket sales, merchandise); and sponsorships. Most boxers would see little, if any, of that money, whereas, Schaefer said: “All revenues here are Mayweather revenues. He gets part of everything.” This means the expenses are Mayweather expenses, too, including advertising (billboards, radio spots, print ads, commercial production), publicity (press tours, news conferences), sanctioning fees, legal contracts and insurance. For a fight of this magnitude, Schaefer estimated the expenses would run about $10 million. First, Mayweather will write himself a check this week in the neighborhood of $20 million. This is similar, in concept, to the guaranteed money that other fighters receive from their promoters, but the check is much larger. Besides Mayweather, only Manny Pacquiao would command that much. What Mayweather earns in addition depends on the success of the event. If 1.4 million or 1.5 million fans buy the fight — which is expected — Mayweather will make about $40 million, Schaefer said. In addition, Mayweather still receives checks from pay-per-view revenue for previous fights, the results of which sometimes take years to come in. “That’s the difference,” Ellerbe said. “Floyd gets a cut of everything even on the back end. He’s controlling every revenue source. He beat Shane Mosley, and he paid him, too.” For comparison, consider Pacquiao. For his coming November fight, Top Rank has guaranteed $22 million and a percentage of other revenue for a total of $30 million, said Bob Arum, chairman of Top Rank. If the fight is canceled because of a natural disaster or cable blackout, for example, Pacquiao will still make $22 million, whereas Mayweather would stand to lose much of his total earnings. Because Mayweather has averaged about 1.5 million pay-per-view buys in his last four fights, and because no natural disaster has wiped out any boxing event in recent memory, he considers his risk quite low. Even Arum, Mayweather’s stated nemesis, concedes “there’s no loss, only profit.” He added: “In the end, it may be less than the guarantee, but it’s all profit.” Another major difference is that Mayweather retains creative control, too. For a commercial before his 2010 fight against Mosley, Mayweather wrote the theme. He is also known for calling Golden Boy employees about tasks large (potential sponsors) and small (where to hand out fliers). He is a micromanager and proud of it. Arum and others, however, believe that there is value in promotion and that Mayweather would make even more if he ceded total control. Mayweather disagrees, and even says the formula can be duplicated by other fighters — for a fee, of course.
“That’s going to cost you!” he said.
(Editor’s note: Still ducking Pacquiao though. Never forget.)
I Still Have a Soul
beef-san: Dispute over. Finally.
Born and Bred







