Kenny Vice, a former boxer from Lafayette, Louisiana, who once fought a peak Julio Cesar Chavez, has died at the age of 64.
It has been reported that his death was the result of “complications secondary to chronic traumatic encephalopathy” and a consequence of his 32-9 (26 KOs) career.
Though never regarded among the world’s best, he was involved in some noteworthy contests. In July 1989 at the Atlantic City Convention Center Vice lasted into the third round of a scheduled non-title 10 against Chavez, then the junior welterweight champion. Four months later he took on Livingstone Bramble, a former lightweight champion, only to be disqualified in the sixth round when his corner entered the ring to signal surrender.
It wasn’t all losses, however. In September 1990, Vice scored a sizeable upset – and unforgettable one-punch KO victory – when he flattened the heavily favored Jim McDonnell, fresh off giving the great Azumah Nelson hell in a world title bid, inside London’s Royal Albert Hall.
That led to a bout against the well-regarded Frankie Mitchell the following year with the NABF lightweight strap on the line at Philadelphia’s Blue Horizon. Alas, Vice was halted in two rounds.
Though he went on to beat the once-promising Jackie Beard in April 1995, a two-round loss to Dingaan Thobela, a former and future world champion, proved the end for Vice the following month.
Vice was well-liked in his community and he carried the Olympic torch through Lafayette as it made its way to the 1996 Atlanta Games. In retirement, he opened a gym with Beau Williford and dedicated his time to training and developing young fighting talent in the local area.
His daughter Courtney Vice Habetz, one of six children, told The Advocate: “We want people to remember him as more than a champion. When Youngsville flooded, he helped neighbors pull their cars out of rising waters.
“His gym was a place where young men could escape the streets. Once, when one of the fighters was arrested, he went to the jail and slept there with him, so he wouldn’t have to be alone. The next morning, he brought him home and made him run laps around our pasture until he couldn’t go anymore. That person credits him for his sobriety today.
“When I think of him, I remember a husband sweeping the floor who would grab his wife’s hands as she was washing the dishes and slow dance with her to a song on the television, a father who rushed to Acadiana Park in his steel toe boots and torn up jeans to run three miles with his boys and the Comeaux Cross Country team, and the grandfather who sobbed as his first grandson was placed in his arms.”