It is hard to think of a time in the recent past when a global organization was needed to run boxing more.

From Mike Tyson being licensed to fight at the age of 58 to the New York State Athletic Commission’s voiceless build-up to the Devin Haney vs. Ryan Garcia fight in Brooklyn on April 20 and the aftermath that saw Garcia fail two tests for the banned substance ostarine, it is fair to say the sport is reeling hard. 

The negative energy is palpable. Yes, we are getting some of the contests we want and are in the midst of a purple patch as far as a run of fights is concerned. But that does not mean it is a convenient time to brush aside serious issues, just because we happen to have a conveyor belt of potentially spectacular fights on the horizon.

If you want to drink the Kool-Aid, great. 

Because we’ve all heard boxing’s conspiracy theories. And boxing and a fair few fighters love a good conspiracy. Those conspiracy theories were running amok on Ryan Garcia’s timeline in the lead up to the Haney fight, as he attempted to enact some kind of kidnapping (of himself!) while posting about Elon Musk, demons and predicting natural disasters and, well, I could go on, but there was two months of it.

His latest is to catch VADA (Voluntary Anti-Doping Association) with strays after it came to light that he had tested positive twice around the Haney fight.

And as many fighters feel the need to do in these instances – or because they find that the best course of action is to do so – they attack.

Garcia threw VADA, co-founded by Dr. Margaret Goodman, under the bus, owing to her working relationship with Victor Conte.

Now, one can understand the notion of Conte, with his history, catching strays. And not only is he one who puts his head above the parapet to be picked off by the social media snipers, but his past makes him an understandable target. How can a man who has served hard time for his part in one of sport’s most significant steroid scandals be viewed with anything but suspicion? 

While Conte claims he has turned, others do not buy the reformed character schtick – and others still might be on the fence. (Perhaps more germane, however, is that Conte, who does not have a role within VADA, neither took nor tested Garcia’s samples.)

Regardless, Goodman – the first ringside physician to be elected into the International Boxing Hall of Fame – has tried to be a force for good and level the playing field for fighters. In other words, she wants to help boxers, something she has a track record of from her work on the Nevada State Athletic Commission, her regular columns of advice in “The Ring” back then and the important book she wrote, “Ringside and Training Principles,” a should-be essential guide to help fighters and their teams through their careers, in and out of the ring.

The VADA mission statement includes the opening paragraph:

The Voluntary Anti-Doping Association (VADA) is an organization that will offer and promote effective anti-doping practices and programs in boxing and mixed martial arts. Boxing and mixed martial arts are state regulated. Currently, few athletic commissions perform drug testing for performance enhancing substances. When conducted, testing is not comprehensive, rarely unannounced and not a deterrent. Sports regulators do not have the man-power, time and funds to thoroughly carry out the task. VADA will be an opportunity for athletes to demonstrate their commitment to clean sport.

It seems simple enough, but along the way, and at multiple points on a journey that started in 2012, it has become terrifically complex.

Rather than accept findings, pay a price and be tarred and feathered, boxing – not VADA – has permitted fighters to keep calling the shots. It allows them to box without bans, serve silent suspensions and come out with, frankly, some of the strangest excuses fathomable because, well, most of the more normal-sounding ones (not that there are many) have already been used and rolled out.

Garcia now claims he’s being “set up.”

It’s a new one, at least. Then, Garcia pointed out the VADA testing he had done ahead of the Gervonta Davis fight in Vegas last April.

“If ever there was a time to use steroids, it’s Tank right?” Garcia said of a fight he lost when he tested negative, following a fight he won when he returned two positives – from the day of and the day before.

VADA was created with the best of intentions and for the good of the athlete. And sometimes it works. On the occasions it doesn’t, it is down to a number of factors – but rarely are they of VADA’s own doing. The problem is, VADA is powerless to do anything with its findings. That is down to the governing bodies and, to a degree, the sanctioning ones. The governing bodies can ban fighters, but still they can’t stop fighters reappearing elsewhere in the U.S. or around the world. The sanctioning bodies can only remove fighters from their ratings, but they often just do what they want, anyway. Promoters could do their bit, too, and not quite so eagerly roll out those who have failed tests until actual justice has been done or innocence has been comprehensively proven.

There’s a serious lack of transparency from the state-funded commissions, too, but then – as with VADA – why should they be one of those to put their head above the parapet and trade off in stressful and potentially ruinous legal proceedings against fighters with far deeper wallets than theirs? New York’s silence was deafening before Haney-Garcia, and it is just as loud now. Same with Texas and Tyson, but that’s another matter (although obviously an overlapping issue).

Everything currently happening, with Ryan Garcia and countless others, could be infinitely more comprehensible if there was one overarching organisation holding everyone accountable.

VADA can only do so much, and that is to make sure fighters who are signed up are tested and that the results get to the lab unscathed. Then, its next job is to inform all parties, previously stipulated in writing, of the findings.

What happens from there is out of its hands. If VADA could issue bans and suspensions, things might be different, but there is not enough legal red tape to go around the cases, lawsuits and threats as it is.

Would strict liability in boxing make a difference, where a fighter is punished for a positive test regardless of any plausible excuse? The implication is that it certainly would cut out many a gray area, if it allowed us to only look in black-and-white. There could be some collateral damage if that is the case; contaminations, reputations tarnished incorrectly and unwarranted fines being handed out. Or perhaps the number of positive tests would significantly reduce.

Maybe I am too naïve; it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of that while working on sport’s black market.

VADA’S mission statement continues: 

Boxing and mixed martial arts can be extremely dangerous sports. An athlete takes his/her life into their hands each time they enter the ring or spar. Besides contributing to an unfair advantage and misrepresentation to the public at large that admires and follows these athletes, the intrinsic dangers are astronomically higher to the opponent and the challenger when PED use is involved. VADA will be a way to make these sports safer when the athletes begin and retire from their career.

It is staggering that a boxing reflex is now to lash out at VADA each time a discovery is made. VADA probably wouldn’t call itself a perfect solution. There is no perfection in boxing, just a sad beauty behind the violent work it takes to get to the top and fulfill a dream. 

But a force for good should be encouraged and not repeatedly beaten to the brink of a stoppage. If VADA were ever to throw in the towel – and who could blame it for doing so? – this already dangerous sport would become a lot more hazardous for the fighters.