Big-man boxing has begun to return to Tampa rings with a bit of a flourish, in the name of Antonio Tarver, as it began years ago with the emergence among us of the late, great Tommy Gomez, now two years gone.

Tarver, fine in the ring, outpointed Clinton Woods Saturday night at the Forum to win one of the three light heavyweight titles — the so-named IBF. He already owns the IBO title his Saturday opponent, Woods, held. Now he and his promoter, Gary Shaw, are ready for Tarver to meet Chad Dawson, who by our accounts reports to be the WBC light-heavyweight champ. No, ringsiders, it is not yesterday when there was just one of every division. Now, get yourself a good fighter and get yourself an association, then, a television network, or, is it the other way around?

In any event, the two-out-of-three champ, Antonio Tarver, is our guy and he may be the best in his light-heavyweight division, like Bob Foster once was, and Tampa was also his digs and the late Lou Viscusi and Phil Alessi his managing team. Viscusi had a bunch of big-time boxers, many of whom trained here, oh, like heavyweight slugger Joe Frazier, whose brother still lives here.

That was the tail end of the big-time boxing years in Tampa, years of fun and drama, and all the shenanigans that go on with the fights. I forget the promoter who years ago arranged for a Sugar Ray Robinson fight at a sit-down dinner card at Fort Harrison Hotel in downtown Clearwater.

Sugar Ray was in his prime. He and the rest of the principals arrived on time for the big deal. Robinson wanted his money, in advance. I was there to report it all. I began looking for the promoter. I found out he had been taken to Morton Plant Hospital in Clearwater. I phoned, got him on the line, in a room, in bed.

He could not make it, he said. He was clearly copping out. I was sure of that when he said — I can never forget — ‘’Tom, I think I am down for the count,’’ and hung up.

I tried to find somebody to make a decision. Sugar Ray was screaming about wanting his money. The people were now eating and anxious. I went ringside and asked Sol Fleischman, WTVT sports man and professional drummer who was booked with the band for the night, to get his drums into the ring, if he would, and play, a while. And, he did. Played well.

Don’t remember who the brave man was that got into the ring and told all that there’d be no fight, but told them to send their stubs somewhere and they’d get their money back. Don’t know if they did or not. I know Sol didn’t get paid for his drum solos and never let me forget it. We discussed it his last days in the Sun City Hospital.

But, we had some fine local fighters, too, like the war hero Gomez, like Bob Foster, like wonderful Willie Pep who for the longest time owned a bar or two here, and like the great John Mugabi who won so many big ones for Tampa, and Alessi and Viscusi, and lost classic struggles at Las Vegas and to Marvin Hagler in a monumental fight at Madison Square Garden.

Viscusi made our reservations in an aging hotel in New York where old Tampa Times Sports Editor Frank Klein leaned on his bathroom sink, making it collapse in his hands, and he held it until somebody responded to his cries. Linda and I could not help. I had flushed the toilet and it promptly overflowed, causing us to stand on the bed until the hotel plumber’s friend team finished with Klein’s room.

There’ve been worse days/nights in boxing, but, I guess an interesting time came when a fight was scheduled at night at the Lakeland baseball field, the ring to be placed over home plate. Trouble was, nobody arranged for a ring. Late that Saturday afternoon, a call went to Col. Eddie Chasse at Fort Homer Hesterly in Tampa for a boxing ring. Sure they could borrow it, and a flatbed was dispatched to get it. The ring got to Lakeland and was erected, but at fight time, the ring was tilted noticeably.

The contestants flipped for the highside corners and fought — and won all night — downhill. Knockdowns came easier.

Our latest champion, Antonio Tarver, would have had an easy time of it there — with local knowledge.