
As he made his return, however, Toney - aligned with new trainer Freddie Roach - insisted that he was a renaissance man and could recapture his elite status in the cruiserweight division. By 1999, he had been out of the ring for more than a year and his career was officially going nowhere. Somewhat directionless and invariably fighting his inner demons - but still demonstrating rare flashes of his greatness when he did fight - Toney was on the fringes of a sport in which he was once a leading light. Although their careers took divergent paths following their 1994 clash, James Toney - who had been saying he would one day be heavyweight champion of the world for most of his career - would eventually get the opportunity to be the third.Īfter the loss to Jones, “Lights Out” fought predominantly at light heavy and cruiser against fighters who didn’t possess half of his ability. Over at Double Dutch Boxing, I’ve recently chronicled the night in 2003 when Roy Jones made history by becoming only the second fighter to win world titles at both middleweight and heavyweight. Facing a fighter with the ability to exploit these training issues, Toney struggled throughout and Jones dominated the entire fight, utilising speed and skill to avoid occasional flurries and achieve a virtual shutout points win. Toney struggled to boil down to the 168-pound weight limit, and that was clearly visible on the night. Both undefeated, both leading lights in the pound-for-pound discussions at the time, this was a fight which in hindsight matched up two all-time greats - but it was not an all-time great fight. In late 1994, Toney - then-IBF super-middleweight champ - defended against the IBF’s middleweight kingpin Roy Jones Jr. Eventually, though, it caught up with him, especially when he was matched against an opponent of similar stature. Most of the time, his natural boxing talent was enough to hide his indiscretions. He was also negligent about what he put into his body. His performances could be hugely inconsistent at times, but he was still a two-weight world champion by the age of 24.

Many questioned his diet, and he often struggled to make weight. He would do the bare minimum amount of cardio work, almost exclusively trained by sparring, and would routinely walk around at more than 200 pounds between fights. James Toney loved boxing, but hated training. But he could also often be his own worst enemy.
