Today, Agostino Cardamone turns 59. The former boxer from Campania, renowned for his courage, aggressive style, and deadly left hook, was a significant figure in Italian and international boxing during the 1990s. As an Italian champion, European champion, WBU belt holder, and a hair’s breadth away from capturing the prestigious WBC world title, Cardamone delivered countless thrilling bouts, making Italian boxing fans proud. On his birthday, we had the honor of discussing his glorious past and present with him.
A professional career spanning 10 years filled with exciting battles and prestigious achievements. How did it all begin? Do you recall your first steps in the boxing world?
Starting was very hard for me because my father was firmly against it. He considered it too violent. I had to wait until I was 20 because, before that, I wasn’t independent enough to go against his will. I still remember that after my first day at a boxing gym, he wanted to throw me out of the house. If it weren’t for my mother, who opened the bedroom door that led outside, I would have had to sleep in the car. Over time, I managed to change his mind, and in the end, he was proud of my achievements.
Among your many opponents, one stands out: Silvio “The Barbarian” Branco, whom you faced three times, winning each encounter. The first fight, for the Italian title, took place “on his turf” in Civitavecchia when both of you were still relatively inexperienced.
Yes, it was a very tough match. I won by just one point. Luckily, the judges recognized my worth, but it wasn’t easy at all. My inexperience was a factor—I knocked Branco down in the fifth round, and if I’d been more seasoned, I could have finished the fight then. Instead, I allowed him to recover and had to endure his comeback. I came out of that battle battered but satisfied.
The second match took place in Brindisi nearly seven years later for the WBU title, which Branco was defending for the seventh time. What do you recall about that night, remembered for the fantastic punch with which you ended the fight?
That night, he was very determined. His reach and footwork kept me at bay until the tenth round, leaving me unable to do much. But then, in my opinion, he got overconfident. He stopped to trade punches to show off, and as soon as I saw him plant his feet, I caught him with my left hook. It was a terrible moment—when he went down, all you could see were the whites of his eyes, and I was scared. Thankfully, he quickly regained consciousness.
When you landed that incredible KO, you were significantly behind on points. How did you manage to win on the scorecards in your third and final fight in Civitavecchia just five months later?
After the second match, almost everyone, including journalists, told me it was just a fluke and that I could never outpoint Silvio Branco. To prove them wrong, I accepted the rematch in his hometown. I never cared about fighting on an opponent’s turf; the venue made no difference to me. It was mostly a psychological battle. I think his corner gave him bad advice because, in the second round, he came at me aggressively, looking to trade punches. I caught him again, knocking him down, and after that, I saw fear in his eyes. From then on, I let him know that if he behaved, I’d let him go the distance; otherwise, I’d knock him out again. That’s why the match became psychological. If he’d waited longer before asking for a rematch, he might have had better chances. When I saw Branco again in 2016 at the Italian Boxing Federation’s centenary celebration in Rome, I was shocked by his size. Compared to him, I looked like an insect. Seeing how big he was, I wondered, “How did I beat him three times?”
After racking up 23 consecutive wins and becoming Italian and European champion, you got the chance to fight for the WBC world title against the fearsome puncher Julian Jackson. When you think back to that fateful night, is the pride of having shaken the champion greater, or is the regret for not finishing him off stronger?
The regret is stronger. I remember Roberto Rea telling me before the fight that Jackson joked during the press conference about how funny my last name sounded. That made me overly aggressive, and I went after him from the first round. When I cornered him and saw him in big trouble, I backed off, thinking the fight would be long and wanting to give him a prolonged lesson. That was a big mistake because an opponent like him is like a venomous snake—you never know when they’ll strike. I also have to add that my corner didn’t help me at all that night. While my opponent was in trouble, they didn’t push me to finish the fight. When I sat down between rounds and asked Rocco Agostino what to do, he just said, “Keep doing what you’re doing.” Later, I learned the referee had brought a doctor into the ring to examine Jackson’s right eye during the break and decided to give him just one more round because he risked permanent damage, having already had surgery on that retina. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have traded punches in the second round, but my corner told me to attack, and I fell into the trap. Because of my inexperience and a corner that was useless except for taking their share of the purse, I lost a world title I had shown I could win. The WBC title was much more prestigious than the WBU, so it’s something I still struggle to accept.
How has life unfolded for you after hanging up your gloves? What can you tell us about your role as a trainer and your recent projects?
For several years, I had to put my dream of opening a gym in Montoro on hold to give the kids in my town a chance to pursue a dream like I did. I spent my career earnings on building a house and living expenses. I worked as a carpenter and bricklayer, but I can’t do those jobs anymore because the fractures I suffered in my hands as a boxer now cause me a lot of pain when I do manual labor. After coaching for a long time at a gym in Serino, another town in the Avellino area, I was finally able to open a gym in Montoro. Now I split my time between the two towns. In Serino, I train competitors like Marco Bevilacqua and Marco Coscia, as well as a promising young talent. Tomorrow, we’re heading to Seregno for the national championships. In Montoro, I have two athletes who’ll be ready to debut next year and others with great potential. I owe this opportunity to nurture my passion for teaching boxing to people like Serino’s mayor, Vito Pelosi, the former Montoro administration (especially councilor Raffaele Guariniello), and Montoro’s current mayor, Salvatore Carratù.
Thank you for your time. Is there anything you’d like to share with Boxe Punch readers?
I’d like to encourage those who want to take up boxing but fear they’re too old to give it a try. I started at 20, and despite my first trainer telling me I was too old to achieve anything significant, I proved him wrong and had my share of accomplishments.