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Kevin Cunningham takes the podium at a mid-April press conference at the Family Arena in St. Charles, flanked by models in skimpy dresses and Vegas-style feathered headgear. He's promoting "Rumble by the River," scheduled for June 2. But the twenty or so assembled journalists are a tired-looking bunch. Perhaps it was the lunch of pasta and egg rolls. Or maybe, like Cunningham's publicist Jane Higgins, they were expecting to see Cory Spinks.

"C'mon, let's go!" Cunningham berates them from behind his tinted sunglasses. "Let's talk some boxing!"

He's eager to get Round One, his recently renamed promotions company (formerly Pound for Pound), off the ground. Though this event will be tainted by tragedy two weeks before the fight when one of the featured fighters, a lightweight named Neil Wright, takes his own life, today Cunningham couldn't be readier to rock.

Whereas his early days saw him hosting fights at city venues in front of mostly black audiences, he's looking to get some white suburban folks in his seats. "I want to get a more diverse crowd," he says. "I'm tired of doing fights at the Admiral."

"I think people have a thirst for this type of activity," seconds Higgins. "Fights that are not just for African Americans but for all of us. He doesn't just want to put it in a sleazy arena, but in a decent family place where we can all go see it and not feel afraid to park our cars."

Paramount too is Cunningham's desire to head his own big-time venture, now that he and Spinks are no longer contractually obligated to Don King. Concerning King, Cunningham has mostly positive things to say, and King about him, especially after the financial success of the February fight at Savvis. But in a roundabout way, Cunningham blames King for Spinks' defeat.

"We tried with Don to get a big fight with [Felix] Trinidad and move up in weight," Cunningham says of the negotiations with King. "We tried to get fights with De La Hoya and Sugar Shane Mosley at 154 [pounds]. Don King said, 'Oh, no.' He wanted to do the rematch with Zab. The only fight they were willing to pay us some money for was the Zab Judah rematch."

"You know what it is," responds King, "the part that Kevin don't understand is that it takes two to fight. What I want is immaterial and irrelevant to a guy like Oscar De La Hoya or Trinidad. You can talk about it, but there's gotta be a demand for the fight, and you also have to have the other guy's promoter that's willing to gamble like I am."

When the journalists finally come to on this afternoon in April, Cunningham will answer questions about his event's featured fighters: to his right, William Guthrie; and to his left, ex-Olympian and recent Cunningham signee David Diaz.

And, of course, eighteen-year-old phenom Devon Alexander, who's scheduled to go six rounds against junior-welterweight John Rudolph.

"He's known as 'Alexander the Great!'" Cunningham trumpets. "A lot of people said, 'That's a lot of pressure to have a name like that.' Well, this kid has the skills, the talent and the ability to carry a name like that. And I'm telling you, he's gonna be the next superstar to come out of St. Louis.

"Get your tickets. Don't miss it," he admonishes the journos. "It's going to be a great night of boxing!"

One after another the boxers are called to the podium. Alexander, who got to skip trig class for this, can barely choke any words past his gargantuan smile.

"I'm just like Cory," he says, shyly licking his lips. "I'm fin' to be champion, in a minute."

Suddenly the world brims with potential. And for what seems like the first time in months, Kevin Cunningham flashes a grin.

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