Ayala Promotions: Honesty
and Perseverance
By Bart
Barry
Anyone who thinks seriously
about our sport’s troubles for a few minutes
concludes that promoters are as harmful as they
are essential. Corrupt sanctioning bodies, rigged
fights, incompetent officials, ruined pugilists;
all return to promoters. Meanwhile, would-be
reformers crowd barstools and message boards
and inboxes with their suggestions. How many
changes they would implement if only there were
more time, or access, or money.
Would-be reformers, meet
Steve Ayala. A few years ago, as a successful
Arizona insurance entrepreneur, Mr. Ayala agreed
to sponsor some local fights at Glendale Arena
– home of the Phoenix Coyotes. He wasn’t
pleased by what he saw. He didn’t email
a columnist or tell his friends he’d given
up on the sport, though. Instead, he acquired
his promoter’s license and went to work.
This Saturday night, Ayala
Promotions celebrates its one-year anniversary,
at Celebrity Theatre, with its fifth Phoenix
event. Steve Ayala describes the upcoming card
as an “all-star Arizona show” that
will feature undefeated super-featherweight
Juan Garcia (10-0, 3 KOs), undefeated heavyweight
George Garcia (12-0, 4 KOs), and a host of well-matched
bouts. Ayala Promotions will also continue its
tradition of donating a dollar from each purchased
ticket to a local charity – this time
directing funds to Thomas J. Papas School for
Homeless Children.
Already, Steve Ayala has
gotten further than many Arizonans thought he
would. His first promotion was a victim of what
dirty tricks have plagued our local scene for
years. Shortly before the card’s fighters
arrived, someone called the hotel where they’d
be staying and canceled their room reservations.
Still, the show went on.
Four months later, Ayala
Promotions made its second event in a field
house on the State Fairgrounds. It was a fun,
well-attended, local card. Its matches were
passable, and Steve Ayala used a few novelties
to keep the crowd interested. One was the “$500
Knockout” promotion; a raffle was held,
and its winner was brought to ringside for one
fight and a chance at $500 if there was a knockout.
At the end of the show, Mr.
Ayala, a slight man in a smart suit, took the
microphone and thanked the audience, pledging
in Spanish that he was just beginning, and that
each show would be better than the last. The
standard speech. The crowd may have been convinced.
The only boxing writer in attendance, however,
was not.
Then came May 19, 2006. That
night Ayala Promotions brought seven matches
to Celebrity Theatre. Seven brutal confrontations;
fantastic fights, top to bottom. Michael Carbajal
and Mike Tyson made ringside appearances. A
member of the Arizona Boxing Commission said,
“This is the best card we’ve had
in years.” And even the night’s
special guest, Antonio Margarito, had to smile
and shake his head at the violence and relentlessness
that happened before him.
Anxious to continue improving,
Steve Ayala next attended Fight Promoter University.
He returned to Celebrity Theatre in the fourth
week of July and made another compelling show.
And by then, it was undeniable: many of Arizona’s
best boxing people, in matchmaking and training
and managing and public relations, had become
part of Ayala Promotions.
“The team I put together,”
says Mr. Ayala. That’s what has been better
than expected in his first year of promotion.
What has been worse than expected? “Crowd
size. But I’m the new kid. People still
don’t know what to expect.”
In that answer, though, lies
Steve Ayala’s greatest appeal as a promoter.
He is honest to a fault. He says things in an
interview that promoters – hucksters most
every one – never say: “I don’t
have enough experience to give advice”,
“I’m still learning”, “I’m
a simple man”, “Nobody returned
my calls”, “I wouldn’t know
who to call about television”, “I’m
an outsider”.
Promoters can be unscrupulous,
though. So perhaps Mr. Ayala’s disarming
and self-deprecating way shouldn’t be
trusted? Here’s a reason to trust it.
Steve’s fighters – whom he calls
“my kids” – go out of their
ways to say good things about him. Off-the-record,
away from press rooms and weigh-ins, and nowhere
near Steve himself, Ayala Promotions’
fighters say they trust Steve, that he does
what he says he’ll do, and that he’s
an enormous improvement over the you’ll-never-fight-in-this-town-again
rhetoric they’re used to hearing.
“I’m bringing
hope to this market,” Steve affirms.
Asked if his honesty-first
approach may not hinder his earnings, Steve
answers, “I don’t know anything
else, Bart.”
Steve Ayala doesn’t
need boxing to make a living. In fact, to date,
boxing hasn’t netted him a penny of profit.
Steve has Ayala Insurance Service, his “day
job”, and doesn’t necessarily see
fight promotion as a road to wealth. Some in
Arizona initially misinterpreted that as weakness.
Aside from shenanigans with hotel accommodations,
they made anonymous phone calls and tried to
hector Steve out of the fight game.
Here’s what they missed.
Steve Ayala believes he is doing something greater
than growing a source of income. He believes
he is giving decent, young, Arizona athletes
opportunities they would not otherwise have.
Too, he can afford to spend more than he makes
in boxing. And in all-American way, Steve Ayala
has decided he’s gone too far to abandon
the enterprise. “I’m in too deep,
now,” he says.
If that gives Mr. Ayala an
air of madness before his detractors, no one
should mistake it for blindness. “At every
show, I meet a new character. I make a list.
And I just eliminate them. I’m a simple
man, but I’ve got a good memory.”
Then, in a quiet and kind
voice, Steve Ayala issues something of a threat:
“I’m not going to quit. I love my
day job!”
However this Saturday’s
show turns out, however far Ayala Promotions
eventually gets, let this much be clear: Steve
Ayala has already helped Arizona fighters more
than have any would-be reformers at a bar, on
a message board, or in an email.