Kreshnick Qato
Posted: 06 Oct 2005, 08:24
from sportinglife.com
Meet the boxer who sold so many tickets for his fights he almost found himself the subject of a British Boxing Board of Control ban.
After hundreds of frenzied, flag-waving supporters flocked to his last fight at London's Equinox nightclub, the governing body insisted he must be moved somewhere bigger.
We are not talking about the latest rough-edged East End diamond, nor a swaggering, trash-talking wonderkid from somewhere up west.
The Bow Bells were certainly not chiming in his mother's ears the day Kreshnick Qato was born.
From Tirana rather than Tottenham, Qato is a relatively ordinary super-middleweight with one special gift: every time he fights, a whole country gets behind him.
Promoter Jonathan Feld thought he had seen it all before when Qato, tiring of sporadic late-notice work the length and breadth of Britain, came looking for something a little more substantial.
On the face of it, there was little an Albanian with limited grasp of the English language and a modest record of six losses from 13 professional fights could offer Feld's established small-hall promotions.
Only when Qato casually claimed he could comfortably dispense with over 500 tickets did Feld begin to sit up and really take notice.
"Naturally I didn't believe him," admits Feld. "But when he went out and got rid of £14,000 worth, I changed my mind."
Qato, it turned out, was a national hero who had somehow allowed himself to be led astray into the thankless land of last minute substitutions against solid home-town favourites.
In the circumstances his modest record seemed hardly surprising. Finally given more than two weeks' notice for a fight, Qato's self-promotional skills not to mention his iconic status back home began to seep out.
While the fighter trawled north-west London's construction sites selling barrow-loads of tickets to his eager compatriots, representatives from Albania's television and print media booked space at ringside.
The result was so spectacular it would lead to a Board of Control reprimand. "You would have thought it was a WBC title fight, not a six-rounder," admitted Feld.
"I did not expect the hordes of Albanians to come flooding through the doors. There were 30 or 40 banners around the venue and when Qato won the fight, the crowd just went crazy."
Qato had in fact been on the brink of a stoppage loss to the Southampton-based Russian Dimitry Donetskiy before rallying for his dramatic final round stoppage win.
When they took the fight, neither Donetskiy nor his veteran manager Jack Bishop had had any inkling of what they were about to be let themselves in for.
"I'm the oldest licence holder in Britain and I've seen some atmospheres in my time but that was unbelievable - they were nearly crawling into the ring," said Bishop.
"In fact, I've lost a fighter through it. Dimitry hasn't spoken to me since that night because he is convinced it was all part of some kind of conspiracy against him."
The Board summoned Feld before them to raise concerns about the suitability of the venue for Qato's fights, and the wisdom of continuing to stoke further frenzy by belting out the Albanian national anthem before his fights.
Thankfully when Qato returns to action this Sunday it will be at the altogether more spacious environs of the Hammersmith Palais - and more of Albania will be able to get behind him en masse.
Qato's trainer, the Londoner Luigi Leo, witnessed at first hand the extent of Qato's fame in his homeland when he accompanied him for a rare professional fight in Tirana in March.
"I couldn't believe the support this guy had," said Leo. "He was well known as an amateur but since turning pro he was in the papers every day and everyone knew him.
"When he fought over there he sold out the stadium then was invited to have tea with the prime minister afterwards. That's not the sort of thing that happens every day. In terms of his popularity it is almost scary."
Needless to say, with his ticket-selling ability now well-known, Qato is beginning to get some breaks. There is justifiable hope that with more careful match-making his ability will stretch him further.
Wherever it takes him a whole nation - not to mention a slightly harassed-looking Board of Control inspector - will follow. And Feld will have more reasons to be grateful to British boxing's unlikeliest headline act.
Meet the boxer who sold so many tickets for his fights he almost found himself the subject of a British Boxing Board of Control ban.
After hundreds of frenzied, flag-waving supporters flocked to his last fight at London's Equinox nightclub, the governing body insisted he must be moved somewhere bigger.
We are not talking about the latest rough-edged East End diamond, nor a swaggering, trash-talking wonderkid from somewhere up west.
The Bow Bells were certainly not chiming in his mother's ears the day Kreshnick Qato was born.
From Tirana rather than Tottenham, Qato is a relatively ordinary super-middleweight with one special gift: every time he fights, a whole country gets behind him.
Promoter Jonathan Feld thought he had seen it all before when Qato, tiring of sporadic late-notice work the length and breadth of Britain, came looking for something a little more substantial.
On the face of it, there was little an Albanian with limited grasp of the English language and a modest record of six losses from 13 professional fights could offer Feld's established small-hall promotions.
Only when Qato casually claimed he could comfortably dispense with over 500 tickets did Feld begin to sit up and really take notice.
"Naturally I didn't believe him," admits Feld. "But when he went out and got rid of £14,000 worth, I changed my mind."
Qato, it turned out, was a national hero who had somehow allowed himself to be led astray into the thankless land of last minute substitutions against solid home-town favourites.
In the circumstances his modest record seemed hardly surprising. Finally given more than two weeks' notice for a fight, Qato's self-promotional skills not to mention his iconic status back home began to seep out.
While the fighter trawled north-west London's construction sites selling barrow-loads of tickets to his eager compatriots, representatives from Albania's television and print media booked space at ringside.
The result was so spectacular it would lead to a Board of Control reprimand. "You would have thought it was a WBC title fight, not a six-rounder," admitted Feld.
"I did not expect the hordes of Albanians to come flooding through the doors. There were 30 or 40 banners around the venue and when Qato won the fight, the crowd just went crazy."
Qato had in fact been on the brink of a stoppage loss to the Southampton-based Russian Dimitry Donetskiy before rallying for his dramatic final round stoppage win.
When they took the fight, neither Donetskiy nor his veteran manager Jack Bishop had had any inkling of what they were about to be let themselves in for.
"I'm the oldest licence holder in Britain and I've seen some atmospheres in my time but that was unbelievable - they were nearly crawling into the ring," said Bishop.
"In fact, I've lost a fighter through it. Dimitry hasn't spoken to me since that night because he is convinced it was all part of some kind of conspiracy against him."
The Board summoned Feld before them to raise concerns about the suitability of the venue for Qato's fights, and the wisdom of continuing to stoke further frenzy by belting out the Albanian national anthem before his fights.
Thankfully when Qato returns to action this Sunday it will be at the altogether more spacious environs of the Hammersmith Palais - and more of Albania will be able to get behind him en masse.
Qato's trainer, the Londoner Luigi Leo, witnessed at first hand the extent of Qato's fame in his homeland when he accompanied him for a rare professional fight in Tirana in March.
"I couldn't believe the support this guy had," said Leo. "He was well known as an amateur but since turning pro he was in the papers every day and everyone knew him.
"When he fought over there he sold out the stadium then was invited to have tea with the prime minister afterwards. That's not the sort of thing that happens every day. In terms of his popularity it is almost scary."
Needless to say, with his ticket-selling ability now well-known, Qato is beginning to get some breaks. There is justifiable hope that with more careful match-making his ability will stretch him further.
Wherever it takes him a whole nation - not to mention a slightly harassed-looking Board of Control inspector - will follow. And Feld will have more reasons to be grateful to British boxing's unlikeliest headline act.
