Gervonta Davis Reveals Why He Fired Calvin Ford After Lamont Roach Fight | Truth Behind Split

The boxing world is buzzing with the latest bombshell from the lightweight division: Gervonta “Tank” Davis has officially parted ways with his longtime trainer, Calvin Ford, following the controversial majority draw-turned-loss against Lamont Roach Jr. on March 1, 2025, at Barclays Center. In a candid interview with *FightHype* late Tuesday night, Davis, now 30-1, broke his silence on the split, revealing the reasons behind the decision to fire Ford—a move that has sent shockwaves through the sport. The announcement comes amid a storm of scandals, including leaked audio exposing bribery discussions and referee controversies, raising questions about the integrity of Davis’ camp and the future of his career. Let’s dive deep into the truth behind this seismic breakup and what it means for one of boxing’s brightest stars.
Davis, speaking with an uncharacteristic edge in his voice, didn’t mince words when addressing the split. “I had to let Calvin go—it was time,” he told *FightHype*. “That fight with Roach showed me a lot. We weren’t on the same page no more. He was supposed to have my back, but I felt like I was out there alone.” The 30-year-old Baltimore native pointed to a breakdown in trust as the primary reason, specifically citing Ford’s actions during the Roach fight. “Calvin made choices that night that I can’t get behind,” Davis added, alluding to the now-infamous leaked audio from the eighth and ninth rounds, where Ford was recorded suggesting they “pay the right guy” to influence referee Steve Willis after Davis took a knee—a moment controversially ruled as a non-knockdown.
The audio, which surfaced on March 4 via *The Ring*, captured Davis’ frustration as he responded, “Man, I can’t see! You tryna cheat now?”—a clear sign of discord in the corner. Davis elaborated on this in the interview: “I told him I couldn’t see, and instead of helping me fix it, he’s talking about bribing someone. That ain’t how I roll. I fight fair, and I don’t need that kind of noise around me.” This revelation aligns with Ford’s own admission on March 7 to *FightHype*, where he confirmed the audio’s authenticity but blamed a “third party” in their entourage, claiming Davis rejected the idea outright. However, Davis’ comments suggest he holds Ford accountable for allowing such a suggestion to even surface, eroding the trust that had defined their partnership since Davis was a child.
To understand the gravity of this split, we must revisit the origins of Davis and Ford’s relationship. Ford, a former drug dealer turned boxing coach, became a father figure to Davis when the latter walked into Upton Boxing Center in Baltimore at age seven. Davis, raised in the crime-ridden Sandtown-Winchester neighborhood, had a turbulent childhood—his parents struggled with addiction and incarceration, and he bounced between foster homes before settling with his grandmother. Ford, inspired by his own redemption after a decade in federal prison for racketeering, saw boxing as a way to save kids like Davis from the streets, a mission that mirrored his real-life influence on the character Dennis “Cutty” Wise in HBO’s *The Wire*.
Ford once said in a 2017 *Boxing News* interview, “Me and Tank, we saved each other in a sense.” He recognized Davis’ talent early, guiding him to an amateur record of 206-15, including a 2012 National Golden Gloves Championship. Ford’s belief in Davis never wavered, even when others doubted the young fighter’s readiness for elite competition. Their bond culminated in Davis’ first world title in 2017, a seventh-round knockout of Jose Pedraza at Barclays Center, making him Baltimore’s youngest world champion at 22. Ford’s mantra, as he told *Boxing News 24* in 2024, was that “Tank against Tank” was the only thing that could beat Davis—a testament to his faith in the fighter’s potential.
Despite their storied history, cracks in the relationship began to show before the Roach fight. On March 3, 2025, *EssentiallySports* reported that Ford would not be in Davis’ corner for the bout, with Barry Hunter stepping in instead. Ford downplayed the change, insisting, “We ain’t change up anything,” and framing it as a temporary step back to focus on his amateur program. However, the move raised eyebrows, especially given Ford’s absence during one of Davis’ most critical fights. Hunter, who had worked with Davis since his amateur days, reassured fans that Ford would still be present, but the shift hinted at underlying tensions.
The Roach fight itself exposed deeper issues. Davis’ performance was marred by the ninth-round incident, where he took a knee after a jab from Roach, citing grease in his eyes—a moment Willis controversially did not rule as a knockdown. The NYSAC later overturned the majority draw (115-113, 114-114, 114-114) into a loss for Davis, stripping him of his WBA lightweight title. The leaked audio, combined with Willis’ claim on March 7 to *Boxing Scene* that he was offered $50,000 to “look the other way,” painted a damning picture of Davis’ camp. Ford’s suggestion of bribery, even if not acted upon, was a betrayal of the values Davis claims to uphold, and it appears to have been the final straw.
The split raises several questions about accountability and legacy. Davis’ decision to fire Ford can be seen as an attempt to distance himself from the bribery scandal, which threatens to tarnish his reputation. By publicly condemning Ford’s actions, Davis is signaling a desire to reclaim his narrative as a fighter who wins through skill, not subterfuge. However, skeptics argue that Davis may be scapegoating Ford to deflect blame. The audio shows Davis rejecting the bribery idea, but his presence in a camp where such discussions occurred casts a shadow over his own integrity. As a fighter already dogged by legal troubles— including a 2020 domestic violence arrest and a 2023 hit-and-run case—Davis can ill afford another stain on his record.
Ford, for his part, has a history of overcoming adversity, from his prison stint to dismissed assault charges in 2024. But his role in this scandal undermines his redemption arc. His claim of a “third party” involvement feels like a convenient excuse, especially since he admitted to knowing about the bribery suggestion and failing to stop it. This incident also highlights a broader issue in boxing: the pressure to win at all costs, even if it means crossing ethical lines. The NYSAC’s ongoing investigation into the bribery allegations, which could result in suspensions or criminal charges, adds another layer of uncertainty to Ford’s future in the sport.
The establishment narrative might paint this split as a clean break—Davis moving on to a new chapter with a fresh team, free from Ford’s baggage. But this view oversimplifies the dynamics at play. Ford was more than a trainer to Davis; he was a mentor who shaped his life from childhood. Their bond was forged in the crucible of Baltimore’s streets, where both men defied the odds to achieve greatness. To reduce their split to a mere reaction to the Roach fight ignores the emotional weight of their history and the systemic pressures within boxing that may have driven Ford to desperation.
Moreover, the narrative that Davis is entirely blameless doesn’t hold up. As the leader of his camp, he bears responsibility for the environment he fostered. The fact that such a conversation occurred in his corner suggests a culture of impunity, whether Davis condoned it or not. The boxing community must also reckon with its role in enabling these situations—promoters, commissions, and fans often prioritize spectacle over integrity, creating an atmosphere where winning trumps ethics.
For Davis, the road ahead is fraught with challenges. Now without a title and facing public scrutiny, he must rebuild his team and reputation. Barry Hunter, who stepped in for the Roach fight, is a likely candidate to take over permanently, given his long history with Davis. A rematch with Roach, who called Davis a “scumbag” after the NYSAC upheld the ruling on March 10, seems inevitable, especially with the WBA under pressure to address the controversy. Davis’ promise to return stronger will be tested, as he navigates both the ring and the court of public opinion.
Ford, meanwhile, faces an uncertain future. His reputation as a coach who transforms lives is now tainted by the bribery scandal. While he may continue working with amateurs in Baltimore, his credibility at the elite level is damaged. The emotional toll of losing Davis, whom he once called a son, cannot be understated—Ford’s tearful reflections in 2017 about what Davis’ success meant for Baltimore’s kids now carry a bitter irony.
The split between Gervonta Davis and Calvin Ford is more than a professional divorce; it’s the end of a partnership that symbolized hope and redemption for two men who beat the odds. Davis’ decision to fire Ford after the Lamont Roach fight reflects a desire to protect his legacy, but it also exposes the fragility of trust in a sport where loyalty is often tested by temptation. As the boxing world watches Davis’ next move, this breakup serves as a stark reminder of the high stakes—both personal and professional—that define the fight game. The truth behind their split may never be fully unraveled, but its impact will reverberate for years to come.