THE SEOUL GAMES / DAY 10 : U.S. Boxer Plays Doubleheader : Foster Beats Korean in Rematch After a Bell Mix-Up

SEOUL — Boxing, which has kept these Olympic Games well supplied with controversies, provided yet another here Sunday when American light-welterweight Todd Foster beat South Korea’s Chun Jin Chul, after fighting him twice.

First, Foster, of Great Falls, Mont., decked Chun with a left hook when the Korean dropped his guard, apparently thinking the round was over after hearing the bell in the adjoining ring. Then, after it had appeared that Foster might be disqualified, and after a protest by U.S. officials had succeeded in getting that bout declared no contest, a rematch was ordered. Same participants, same evening.

A rematch? In the Olympics? On the same day?

That’s how it turned out.

And Foster-Chun II was a classic. Foster, irked by bureaucracy and stung by Chun’s attack, turned his anger and frustration into weapons. In a bout that had a crowd of about 3,500 on its feet, he engaged Chun in a toe-to-toe punch-out for just short of two rounds. Bleeding heavily from the nose, He finally stopped the taller Korean with a crashing left hook.

Said U.S. assistant coach Hank Johnson: “‘Todd Foster showed everyone tonight what heart is. That little guy’s got the heart of a champion--or a gold medalist.”

Said Ken Adams, the head boxing coach: “It was as courageous a performance as I’ve ever seen.”

It had also been a long day for Foster.

There had been a 24-hour argument about whether Foster and Chun should be paired for this fight, since the bracket had been redrawn. According to the Americans, the tournament’s South Korean competition director was trying to rig it so that Foster would go to the bottom half of the bracket, and Chun would stay in the top half.

That way, Chun wouldn’t have had to box Foster until the gold-medal bout, assuming both continued to win.

That finally was thrashed out, though, and they met in Sunday night’s session.

They were assigned to Ring B, while another bout was in progress in Ring A. As they neared the end of the first round, the bell sounded in Ring A, signaling the beginning of a round.

Both boxers paused for a split second, then Chun dropped his hands and turned to walk to his corner.

Bang!

Foster bounced a left hook off his head, apparently stunning Chun. The South Korean took two unsteady steps toward his coach in his corner.

The coach pointed to the floor, though, and Chun took the hint. He hit the deck and began writhing there, as if in pain. Later, the Koreans claimed that Foster had thumbed their man. The Hungarian referee, Sandor Pajar, began a count, got to 5 and stopped, thoroughly confused. He, too, apparently thought the round had ended.

While Foster remained in a neutral corner, Pajar began polling the five judges, asking if a foul had been committed. American officials were on their feet at ringside, screaming. They claimed Chun had quit, and demanded a victory on retirement.

Or, failing that, a simple referee-stops-contest victory.

They argued that it wasn’t Foster’s fault that Chun had been listening to the wrong bell.

Pajar finally talked to Emil Jetchev, the Bulgarian chief of the International Amateur Boxing Assn.’s referees and judges commission.

Jetchev rose, waved his arms overhead, and shouted: “No contest!”

That stunned U.S. officials. According to Paragraph V of section 106.8b of amateur boxing’s rule book, a “no contest” is a bout terminated by the referee “owing to a material happening outside the . . . control of the referee, such as the ring becoming damaged, the failure of the lighting supply, exceptional weather conditions, etc.”

An angry Paul Konnor, the U.S. AIBA official, filed a protest and the protest committee went into a meeting, carrying several video cassettes.

Said Adams later: “Chun quit, it’s that simple. Their man heard the wrong bell, and our man heard the right one. How can that be a no-contest? Todd kept fighting, like he was supposed to.

“The last thing we told him before we got in the ring was to remember that ring A had a bell, and ring B had a horn. He broke no rule.”

An angry Foster agreed. “The last thing Kenny told me was to remember we had the horn, not the bell,” he said. “When I heard the bell, I paused, and so did he. Then I remembered, and threw a punch.

“I believe I had total concentration, and that the referee was maybe mixed up. Maybe he didn’t know the difference between the bell and the horn. As I was throwing the left hook, the referee said ‘Stop!’ but he shouldn’t have because the round wasn’t over.”

Apparently the AIBA agreed because Pajar later was suspended for the rest of the tournament.

Foster, meanwhile, went into the bleachers to sit with his fiance, parents and brother and sister while the officials decided what was to be done next. He was told he’d likely be boxing Chun again in Monday morning’s session.

Lucky for him, he stayed.

“Coach Adams found me over an hour later, and told me: ‘Let’s go, you’re boxing in 45 minutes.’ ”

Foster started the second fight off with a lighting bolt. After throwing four left jabs, a straight right hand put Chun on the seat of his pants.

What happened next wasn’t classic Olympic-style boxing. It wasn’t pretty, either.

It was a fierce slug-out between the angry, bloodied American and a desperate South Korean athlete, trying to stay alive in the tournament.

And in the memorable second round--which was begun with a bell, not a horn--the tide seemed to turn half a dozen times. Finally, though, Foster ended it in Chun’s corner. His left hook caught the Korean flush on the chin, and Chun crumpled. The Italian referee, Aldo Leone, started a count, then waved Foster off.

The grinning, bloodied victor looked up, then thrust both gloves into the air, to the cheers of his teammates, friends and family.

“I wanted this guy,” he said later.

“This time, he can’t say I cheated him. I got him, fair and square, even after he got a second chance.”

Some wondered if Foster’s nose was broken, if he could continue in the tournament.

“No, I’ve had a sinus infection for 2 or 3 years,” he said. “My nose bleeds like this all the time. I take medicine for it, and it makes the inside of my nose real dry. It doesn’t take much of a punch to start it bleeding.”