Memories of Victor Conte, by Lucas Ketelle
Victor Conte was a figure unlike any I had met before.
Whether you knew him or not, it was hard to find someone who didn’t have a strong opinion of him, and he loved that.
Conte’s past is well known. More qualified writers have written about that in detail and covered it during a time of scandal.
While the world looked at him as either a nutritional genius or a suspicious figure in the anti-doping world, I would learn he was the master of bringing attention to himself and his products, in particular the brand of SNAC System. He knew how to create a headline. He knew an opportunity to get attention, and even in the late stages of his life, he’d pop up on YouTube outlets that questioned his presence in the sport of boxing. He would argue with them, and he’d stay relevant. The content creators would focus large periods of time on him, since he would eventually end up on their show.
Victor loved tough, hard questions, and it felt that most media who interviewed him knew he was a controversial figure and always treated him with kid gloves. He wanted to touch on the hard subjects; he wanted to be questioned about anti-doping, those were the moments he lived for. An enduring legacy of Victor is his toughness. Victor knew how to say no. I would argue he taught Casey Croft how to say no.
Victor had a saying, “There are only so many seats on the bus.”
What he meant was that not everyone could have access to the private gym he created. Not everyone could get products for free. In hindsight, he was right, but those lessons are hard to learn in the moment.
In the media, he was a character who moved mountains with his words, and loved to do major publication interviews, always careful of his message. Behind the scenes, he was a tough guy, a kind person with a heart of gold, but he was no pushover. If he was unhappy, your phone would ring until you picked up. It was inevitable you’d clash with him; it was almost a test. That was Victor; he wanted things done his way. He was extremely successful, and he had a vision.
Boxing was his redemption. However, even though boxing romanticized a lot of figures who had been arrested or suffered setbacks in life; boxing never romanticized him. The story of redemption shines bright in Victor’s life. That said, being an anti-doping advocate, and a figure spearheading drug testing in the sport, was met with suspicion. No matter what he did, his past followed him. He could never fully allude it.
I never understood the burden he felt until the end. All of the features written about him after his passing started with the bad, which is naturally given the infamous undertones of BALCO, but his second act was an afterthought. In truth, we are all better than the worst thing we’ve done, and there is perhaps no better example of that than Victor’s final chapter.
Victor’s willingness to speak out on doping issues, a topic many avoid, is evident. The conversation around performance-enhancing drugs in boxing has dimmed already in the one month since Victor’s passing. Victor was on the frontline and outspoken on many topics; he’d chat with reporters and frame conversations.
Victor found his peace in boxing. It is a place for people who don’t quite fit in, and given his past, boxing made sense for him. The community embraced him, but he was a unique figure. Not many people would have the guts to go back to selling nutritional products after being busted for doping.
If I were to compare Victor to a fighter, I’d compare him to Marvelous Marvin Hagler, a middleweight champion, who was no-nonsense. Hagler could fight like no other, but he was loyal to his guys, secluded, and when needed, would give an interview that could shock the world. The same is true of Victor. He made the SNAC brand mean something. Fighters who wore the SNAC gear felt pride; it was a brand, but it was more than that; it was everything he believed in. He had access to the industry's elite, but mostly spent his time with a select group of people.
Boxing is an unusual sport because you never know who you will meet. Victor was a successful person before he came to boxing, but he created one of the most influential boxing gyms around. His shirts and products became a fabric of the boxinggym’s culture. The videos he paid for became the intros to million-view videos. Yet, what he valued most was educating a generation from fighters to fans about performance-enhancing drugs. When anyone sees the SNAC logo, they are looking at a fighter who means business. Claressa Shields and Terence Crawford are arguably the best two fighters of the generation, and both were endorsed by SNAC heading into their latest fights.
Some moments don’t come all that often. Victor creating a fight hub with world-class boxers in the Bay Area was a moment in time that I doubt we see again in the Bay Area.
Victor Conte celebrating Lucas Ketelle's first book
