Tragedy And Triumph

Fernando Vargas fell into the same category for me as Erik Morales. Both boxers fought with tremendous bravery. Both had massive fan bases that stuck with them through thick and thin, both literally and figuratively, since both had gluttonous impulses that frequently forced them to shed ample pounds before going into battle. Both, for reasons that are fairly arbitrary, rubbed me the wrong way. Both, however, won my respect.

Vargas, after losing Friday night to Ricardo Mayorga, will join Morales in retirement now. Vargas was never as good as Morales, even if they ended their career on similar notes: Losing streaks, and one last losing hurrah. When 2007 is said and done, there are a lot of labels we might be able to slap on it. "The year of British fighters," perhaps, especially if Ricky Hatton beats Floyd Mayweather. My vote is going to be for "the year boxing definitively proved it's back," even if it never really went away. But another contender is going to be "the year a generation of warriors departed." Arturo Gatti, Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera all retired in 2007, leaving behind them a wake of some of the most thrilling battles of all time. Diego Corrales, who won what I consider the greatest fight of all time in 2005, died this year. Vargas may be a notch lower than those four, but he fought in the same "never say die" style, and his pyrrhic 2000 loss to Felix Trinidad was truly great; one scribe called it today the greatest junior middleweight (154 lbs.) title fight ever.

It's tragic that Vargas' bravery in that fight probably left him in that dreaded boxing state: "Never the same." Against one of the hardest punchers ever, Vargas just kept getting up over and over again. Nobody can do that and not pay in the long-term. I'm not saying Vargas would have beaten Oscar De La Hoya or Shane Mosley later in his career if his corner had thrown in the towel sooner against Trinidad. But he probably would have had a better chance. That Trinidad battle, combined with Vargas' ongoing war with the scale -- he lost 100 pounds and gained some anemia along the way to his 164-pound matchup with Mayorga -- put wear and tear on his body that leaves him old, physically, at 29 years. It's wise that he's leaving now, when his body has absolutely nothing left to give him and he apparently has an acting career ahead of him. Quitting here should leave him the wits he'll need for the movies, and may they serve him with fans the way his bravery pleased them in the ring.

As for Mayorga:

He lives to fight another day. Beating a plump-looking Vargas is going to give him just enough cache, undeserved or no, to serve at least once more as the sport's premier "opponent" -- a fighter who is not good enough to beat the elite but dangerous enough, credible enough, and entertaining enough to up the pay-per-view numbers. If that's the path he plans to ply, then the start-studded welterweight (147 lbs.) division is the one for him, and he's already called out Mayweather and Miguel Cotto. If, however, he wants to make a case for respectability (it's hard to remember he ever had it once, after twice defeating the significantly higher-regarded Vernon Forrest) he could try to make something of himself at junior middleweight, where he could fight Forrest again or avenge his loss to Cory Spinks. Maybe win a title or something. But something about the demeanor of the beer-swilling, incorporating-his-opponent's-dead-mother-into-his-trash-talk Mayorga suggests to me he'll skip the respectability business. Even after his apology to Vargas for all that talking he did about his wife and child.














Too soon, a young Vargas (left) fought Trinidad (right). Too late, the fight was stopped. It will be the first fight people think of when they remember Vargas, but it was the beginning of his end.

Put Down The Hater Tots

Two entertaining, meaningful fights this past weekend in one night to kick off a November chock full of them...

JOE CALZAGHE-MIKKEL KESSLER

Enough is enough. Anyone who doubts Joe Calzaghe after his super middleweight (168 lbs.) unification win Saturday over Mikkel Kessler is drinking Haterade while soaking in Hateration Bath Salts and reading Hater Monthly magazine. And he did it in a barn burner, too.

I gave four or five rounds to Kessler, more than any of the judges, based on his harder punches in many of the rounds. But Calzaghe clearly won a string of the middle rounds that put him over the top. It surely was discouraging to Kessler when Calzaghe hurt him with a body shot, and it surely distressed him when Calzaghe took all of his best shots with ease, but I think Kessler became most discouraged in the round after Calzaghe's pop/trainer told him to "shine" -- meaning, I think, to "shoe shine." Those annoying flurries cemented that Calzaghe wasn't going away.

greatness. On that point I agreed with Kessler fought well; this loss wasn't about his flaws, so much as it was about Calzaghe'sHBO's commentators. And HBO's commentators made the same point I did about how impossible it is to prepare for Calzaghe. There's no one like him, with those awkward-looking punches from strange angles. But to me, the biggest revelation was that Calzaghe can take a serious, serious punch. Kessler hit him with some amazing uppercuts that would've put an elephant in a coma, but Calzaghe acted like he didn't even notice them. He even took a hailstorm of blows from Kessler in the 12th round that looked utterly intolerable. By the way, that Kessler came out swinging for the fences in the 12th round, knowing he needed a knockout to win, showed his mettle. As obvious as it is when fighters in a hole with the judges need to try for the knockout, it just doesn't happen as often as it should. Champions, though, real fighters, do it more often than not.

This was two excellent fighters fighting excellently. I think it lived up to the expectations, if it didn't surpass them, but lacked some of the drama of this year's other major unification fight, the Kelly Pavlik-Jermain Taylor showdown at middleweight (160 lbs). But it made up for it with some fascinating stuff strategy-wise, and the determination both men showed to win.

Next for the winner: If Calzaghe defeated Kessler this soundly, there is only one man left who is even within shouting distance of being able to beat him, and that man is light heavyweight (175 lbs.) king Bernard Hopkins. No one solves a puzzle as meticulously as Hopkins, and Calzaghe's certainly a puzzle. There's a chance this fight could get derailed on logistics, such as whether it's in America or Great Britain. I personally say it's time for Calzaghe to fight outside Wales, but both men clearly want to fight each other, so let's make it happen.
Next for the loser: Again, as the HBO commentators said, Kessler could win back all the belts he lost if Calzaghe moves up to light heavyweight. I'd like to see him in a fight with Lucian Bute, especially. I think this is the kind of loss that makes a fighter better, not worse -- Kessler had never experienced serious adversity in his career. He should be back, and he should be good and improved when he comes back.

JUAN MANUEL MARQUEZ-ROCKY JUAREZ

I don't think the cut opened up on Rocky Juarez' eyelid in the first round of his junior lightweight (130 lbs.) fight Saturday against Juan Manuel Marquez had any impact on the eventual outcome. I think, head butt or no, Marquez would have won; the only difference might have been how simply the win came. I gave every single round to Marquez, but if I was the referee, it wouldn't have lasted 12 of them. That cut was icky, and dangerous. At any moment, I expected Juarez' eyelid to fly off into the middle rows.

Say what you will about Juarez, but he's a good fighter who seriously tested Marco Antonio Barrera, one of Marquez' peers among the great Mexican fighters of the last decade or so. Barrera was younger then in 2005 than Marquez is now, and Marquez routed Juarez. I totally buy Marquez' claim that he's in his prime, even though he's 34, because the old version who emphasized defense preserved things for the new version of Marquez, the one who emphasizes offense while retaining his defensive skill. Certainly he's in his prime from the standpoint of his entertainment value.

Next for the winner: Boxing fans should take up a collection to hire anyone who might ever come into contact with Marquez or Manny Pacquiao and pay them to repeatedly say each other's names, like in the scene from "Being John Malkovich" where everyone only says the word "Malkovich." "Pacquaio Pacquiao? Pacquiao," the waiter should say to Marquez. "Marquez Marquez Marquez! Marquez, Marquez," the drug store clerk should say to Pacquaio. We must, must, must have a rematch of the amazing 2004 draw between the two of them. I'm hard-pressed to think of a more important fight.
Next for the loser: I wish I knew what to make of Juarez. He's clearly got talent. Maybe he needs to stay away from hall of fame-bound Mexicans for a while. Maybe he needs to go back to 126 lbs., which is a more natural weight for him, and take on Robert Guerrero, the fighter he was originally scheduled to take on before the Marquez bout opened up for him. I'm not going to write Juarez just yet, though, since he's only lost to all-time greats in Marquez and Barrera, plus an A-level fighter in Humberto Soto.

The Big Little Fight Nobody's Talking About Could Be A Scorcher

Across the ocean this weekend, they're on the verge of hosting a fight that might -- might -- break the all-time attendance record for an indoor boxing event. So it's no wonder that the boxing world is paying closer attention to the super middleweight (168 lbs.) battle scheduled in Great Britain between Joe Calzaghe and Mikkel Kessler than they are the meeting this weekend in the U.S. of A. between junior lightweights (130 lbs.) Juan Manuel Marquez and Rocky Juarez.

Don't get me wrong, I've got a tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach about Calzaghe-Kessler, and it's still days away. I'll get to that fight soon enough. But let's not overlook Marquez-Juarez. The most important thing about it is that its outcome could decide whether we get one of the most meaningful fights in all of boxing, a rematch between Marquez and Manny Pacquiao. But Marquez-Juarez could be a scorcher in its own right.

Marquez is probably my favorite fighter. He basically has every tool in the toolbox -- he throws astonishing combinations, has enough power to win by pretty knockout, looks good even when he's playing defense and has established his badass bona fides. His tendency to play it safe on defense has vanished entirely, silencing one of the most common criticisms of Marquez. The other most common criticism, which came in the form of a question about whether he had a boxing heart to go with his undisputed boxing brain, disappeared following his exciting 2004 brawl with Pacquiao. Pacquiao bum-rushed him in the first round, knocking Marquez down three times and making anyone watching think, "Man, this Pacquiao is something," and "That settles it -- Marquez isn't even in the same league" with contemporary Mexican legends Erik Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera. Then, Marquez cooly and brutally began dissecting his faster, harder-hitting, more limited foe. Lots of those rounds after the first were pretty close, and the result at the end is still hotly disputed, but by the time it was announced as a draw, there was no way you could question Marquez' guts and unflappability. Some bad business decisions led to Marquez' team dismissing a rematch, then taking a bad fight overseas against Chris John that was scored as a victory for John but that most everyone thought Marquez won. But Marquez began scratching his way back up the mountain, and by the time he beat Barrera this year, finally, he had cemented his position as one of the five best fighters around, if weight class is ignored -- third best, according to The Ring. And he did it in a victory over Barrera that is a legitimate candidate for fight of the year in 2007.

Rocky Juarez, a former Olympian and highly-touted up-and-comer, was left for the vultures after he was upset in 2005 by Humberto Soto. But then he beat the tar out of the aforementioned Barrera in a 2006 fight first scored a draw, then a win for Barrera after some strange "calculation error," but many -- myself included -- thought it should have been a victory for Juarez. Since then, though, Juarez has failed to capitalize. He was thoroughly outboxed in his rematch with Barrera, then won a yawner against Jose Hernandez this year. But before we again banish him to the desert, let's meditate on the fact that Soto has proven since the upset that he's a far better fighter than his five losses at the time suggested, and that Juarez was a youthful underdog against Barrera. At this point, though, he is what he is: a dangerous puncher who can change a fight with one blow, as he did in 2003's consensus knockout of the year; a guy who can take a hellacious punch himself; someone with fast hands; but a plodder who just doesn't punch enough, a fact that sometimes gets him in trouble from a judging and entertainment standpoint.

If Juarez wins, he will have toppled a pound-for-pound great and proven his critics wrong. If Marquez wins, he will have cleared a path to the biggest money fight of his career. But if Juarez loses, he may not get another chance at a big fight, Pacquiao moves on to something else and an aging great will likely have trouble climbing once again to the top. I do think this will be a good fight -- both men have a lot on the line, and there will be intrigue in whether Juarez can land something big when Marquez takes risks to do damage.

MY PREDICTION: Marquez by decision. If Barrera beats Juarez, and Marquez beats Barrera, that stands to favor Marquez. Marquez has the same attributes Barrera had that troubled Juarez, but Marquez has faster hands than Barrera, one of Juarez's original advantages over Barrera.
CONFIDENCE: 80%. The stand-and-trade strategy of Marquez we've come to know and love the last few fights could backfire against the powerful Juarez, who also has the edge in age, 27 years young to Marquez' old-for-130 pounds 34. But I suspect if Marquez gets into a bind, he'll stick and move his way to a win to preserve the millions he might win vs. Pacquiao.
MY ALLEGIANCE: I already gave it away, didn't I? Marquez for his style and skill, over Juarez' power and plod. But even if I didn't like Marquez so much, I'd want him to win to make that Pacquiao rematch happen.













As good a fight as it was when Marquez and Pacquiao met, I only want to see one of these warriors raising their hands in victory in a rematch early next year. So I don't want to see any hijinks from Mr. Juarez Saturday.

Dogfighting Versus Boxing

It's amazing that months after Michael Vick went to jail, I'm still hearing and reading about how dogfighting is somehow morally equivalent to boxing. In the December issue of The Ring, editor-in-chief Nigel Collins writes an editorial on the subject steeped in caveats, but not so steeped that his actual point of view isn't clear. That point of view, boiled down? Cockfighting is dogfighting is bull-baiting is boxing.

But it's not. And it's important for me to be able to explain why, to myself if to no one else, as someone for whom boxing fandom has been something of an ethical quandary.

The key passages of Mr. Collins' piece:

"Michael Vick's involvement in illegal dog fighting reminded me of how closely boxing was associated with other so-called blood sports back in the 18th and 19th centuries. In the bare-knuckle era, it wasn't just dogs versus dogs. It was also dogs versus bears, bulls, and badgers, all of which were lumped together with prizefighting and often covered in the same periodicals by the same journalists."

Following that is a summary of his own experiences studying and attending animal fighting sports, where, he noted, successful bull-killing dogs were "were awarded expensive, often jewel-encrusted collars" instead of championship belts, as if that act of awarding a collar to a dog (which doesn't really want one unless he's been conditioned to, so it isn't really "awarded") is some kind of fascinating common link to a human winning a belt (who does indeed want one if he's a boxer).

He concludes with two paragraphs that sort of get to his point.

"I make no judgments here, but there is an underlying link between boxing and the other blood sports that a lot of folks don't want to think about. True, there are some fundamental differences. Boxers supposedly box of their own free will, whereas most of the animals involved have no choice. But there is also an underlying factor involved in both activities, without which neither would exist: the atavistic pleasure human beings derive from violence.
We all like to draw distinctions and set parameters, but it doesn't matter whether that pleasure comes from watching two men box or two animals fight. It springs from the same root, always has, always will. It's part of being human and the reason you're reading this magazine."

I think what Mr. Collins is doing here is disguising his actual opinion -- boxers "supposedly" box of their own free will? "Most" of the animals don't have a choice? Sounds like to me he's dismissing the main argument about why boxing and dogfighting are different, without doing so directly. Just to quibble, insofar as there is such a thing as free will, boxers do box of their own free will, a subject I'll address later in this blog entry; while animals might fight in the wild, to my knowledge, none of them sharpen their teeth or wear knives on their feet, and none of them on their own would fight in a ring surrounded by cheering fans until their masters pulled them apart, what with them not having human masters in their wild dog packs.

Incidentally, while I'm quibbling, it might be helpful to the history lesson to explain why the same journalists who covered boxing simultaneous to covering animal fighting no longer do, but I'll let a modern day sportswriter do so here. Succinctly, it's about the fact that humans have a choice that dogs do not. And of course, it's not as if the 18th and 19th centuries were the good old days of morality. Don't get me wrong, I'm as big a fan of the Founders of our country as you'll find. But when it came to respect for the rights of Earth's creatures, well, it was still a relatively new concept, what with slavery flourishing and 80-hour work weeks getting reimbursed pretty poorly for some of those who weren't slaves. I think we're doing a little better these days on those counts, and that's a good thing, right?

I don't deny that human beings do, in some cases, derive an "atavistic pleasure" from violence. But I think the key phrase there -- mine, not Mr. Collins' -- is "in some cases."

You see, not all violence is equal. It sounds strange that I'd even have to say that.

I doubt Mr. Collins derives "atavistic pleasure" from witnessing domestic violence. I doubt he would find much enjoyment in watching one man beating another man confined by ropes or chains. I doubt he would take any "atavistic pleasure" in staring at the murder of an innocent. I'm guessing he wouldn't even like be ringside to see a heavyweight knock out -- and likely kill in the doing -- a flyweight.

And yet, the sweep of his piece would almost seem to justify that, by saying that our enjoyment of boxing is essentially the same as anyone else's enjoyment of other "blood sports."

So let me explain my point of view on this, because it's something I've struggled with mightily. I think there are only a few circumstances where one can be on the safe side of morality in enjoying violence. (I should say that I'm not the typical boxing fan in this regard in that my appreciation of violence is secondary to my appreciation of boxing skill and strategy. My praise of fighters with knockout power is primarily because it makes them more interesting strategically, like a queen on a chess board.) Fake violence, for one, is safe from a moral perspective -- movie violence harms no one, although I would argue against producing lengthy pieces that appeal to a specific pathology, like, say, a film featuring extensive gratuitous sequences of child abuse. But in the sporting world, I would put that "safe" label on any kind of highly-regulated competitive event that guards as much as possible against death or permanent injury, via the introduction of such concepts as weight classes, where both competitors are there of their own free will. That would include boxing, kickboxing and even the Ultimate Fighting Championship which, although it bores me, has come a long way from its "human cockfighting" roots and as such is no longer banned across the country.

It's pretty simple, really. It's why we've arrived at those rules of engagement. It's why we're constantly debating whether there ought to be more rules to ensure more safety.

I think where enjoyment of boxing gets into its shadiest moral areas is on the periphery of the debate over free will. Either we have it or we don't, and while I can't begin to address that subject here, I can say with some confidence that humans are better equipped to rationally decide their fates than dogs, bears and chickens. Even still, the fact is that most boxers come from the lower economic classes. There are many exceptions, with modern day superstars like Oscar De La Hoya and Marco Antonio Barrera coming to the sport from middle and upper class backgrounds. I'm tremendously sympathetic to the fear that one's next meal might never come, having spent a brief period -- very brief -- sick, broke, jobless and virtually homeless. I can only imagine what it must be like for people in more destitute parts of the world. In situations like that, one can reasonably ask, is a boxer who fights to feed himself and his family, who by virtue of his particular mixture of nature and nurture is hardly equipped to do much else for money, really fighting of his own free will? I say, again, insofar as free will exists: "Yes." Boxing's a more legitimate way of making a living than crime, where a talent for violence could also come in handy. Boxing, in circumstances such as this, is a far better choice. And I can tell you that I lustily root to see those fighters succeed.

And, at any rate, a dog doesn't have the same options. When a dog has to fight to eat, it's because his master has imposed that condition on him, not because he's picked that choice from a variety of bad options.

We do all "like to draw distinctions and parameters." Indeed, we should. And we should because we can.














I mean, come on. Seriously.

Two Winners, Two Worries

On Saturday night, Manny Pacquiao picked up another big win against one of the best in boxing history, and Sam Peter returned for his own victory that, due to the peculiarities of title belt politics, means he made his first defense of an "interim" championship. Were the circumstances different, this might be cause for celebration for what were, going in, one of boxing's biggest superstars in Pacquiao and a potential savior of the desert-like heavyweight division in Peter. But circumstances matter.

What their opponents do next is moot. Marco Antonio Barrera is retiring following his second loss to Pacquiao, and Jameel McCline -- well, I don't really care what McCline does. Having watched the fight on replay, it was maddening to watch him backpedal in the fourth round after dropping Peter twice in the third, then refuse to throw the uppercut considering that Peter was practically begging for it by leaning down.

What Pacquiao did Saturday may very well have been about what he does next. All agree that Pacquiao fought cautiously, nothing like the whirlwind of fists we've come to love. Likewise, all agree he looked gaunt at the weigh-in the day before. One of his promoters, Bob Arum, is talking about Pacquiao fighting at lightweight (135 lbs.), up from the junior lightweight division (130) that he's dominated for the last couple years. His trainer, Freddie Roach, said: "We're trying to make him a better overall fighter, with a longer, better career." That goes hand in hand with Roach's confession that he knows Pacquiao, at lightweight, won't have the same power edge. Usually, I'd be in favor of a fighter having a longer, better career, but there are thought undercurrents here that have my furrowing my brow. I must start by saying the only fight I want to see Pacquiao in next is a rematch with Juan Manuel Marquez who fought Pacquiao to a dramatic draw in 2004. That's assuming Marquez gets through his Nov. 3 meeting with Rocky Juarez, it almost goes without saying. Not only do Pacquiao and Marquez have unfinished business, but they're two of the sport's five best fighters, pound for pound. Marquez only recently moved up to junior lightweight, so it could be a stretch to move up again soon at all if ever, no matter what Arum is saying about a possible Pacquiao-Marquez rematch in that division. No, I don't think this is about whether Pacquiao can make 130 anymore. I think it's about whether Pacquiao wants to make 130 anymore. Middleweight Jermain Taylor recently showed that his main problem making 160 lbs. was how hard he wanted to train making it, since he did it easily after concentrating full-time on doing so for one of the first times in his career. I think Pacquiao is in a similar situation; his distractions outside the ring prior to this weekend are well-documented. Worse still than the likelihood that a Marquez rematch may not happen anytime soon is the possibility that we've now seen the last of the Pacquiao who tries to blast out everyone he fights, replaced by a heavier, less powerful, more tactical thinker. Barrera pulled off the whole brawler-turned-boxer thing, but I doubt it will suit Pacquiao as well. Explosiveness is what made Pacquiao special. If he abandons it, 2007 won't just be the year we witnessed the ending for great warriors like Barrera, Diego Corrales, Jose Luis Castillo, Eric Morales and Fernando Vargas. We can add Pacquiao to the list, if only figuratively.

Peter, also from the seek and destroy school of fisticuffs, never stopped trying to do just that to McCline, even after landing on his back three times early in the fight. The worry about Peter is of a different variety -- that he was on his back to begin with. On one level, that he got back up showed considerable fortitude. Peter is still green, by heavyweight standards. Maybe he will learn lessons from the McCline knockdowns. But a granite chin is one of the traits, with his nasty knockout power, that made Peter such a formidable heavyweight, viewed as no worse than the second best behind Vitali Klitschko, whom Peter barely lost to in 2005. Anyone can "get caught," but regardless of Peter's claims that his knockdowns were mere slips, he was badly hurt in the third, and not by some lucky punch. Peter never figured out that the uppercut was his huckleberry, and never adjusted as such. A less reticent fighter than McCline, or a better conditioned one, would have made Peter pay. Fortunately for us, Peter has shown the ability to learn, as he showed in his rematch against James Toney last year. Nor should a Peter loss as a result of some of these mistakes be the end of him as an upper-tier heavyweight; he's still young, and could rebuild. Just one question: Can anyone still say, after Saturday night, that Peter has a granite chin, badly hurt as he was by a three-time also-ran? I, for one, am worried.
















This is Peter Cushing. His name is Peter, like Sam, and he was gaunt, like Manny was on Friday. How I tied this all together is nothing short of a miracle, but maybe a bit of a stretch.

Three Career Endings: 1. Reflected Upon, 2. Wished For, 3. Accursed

A gentleman out of the ring except when it came to hated enemy Erik Morales, Barrera was a snarling, sneering and ruthless competitor between the ropes -- punching Juan Manuel Marquez when he was down, hitting Manny Pacquiao on the break Saturday, and mauling Naseem Hamed, pictured at right, by shoving his face into a ring post and more. Oh, and he was really, really good.


Saturday brought the end of one historic career, the next step in the car-crash comeback of another and the likely woeful conclusion to a third.

1. Adios, Marco Antonio Barrera. Anyone who's followed boxing for the last decade or so knows that, with Barrera having retired after Saturday's defeat at the hands of Manny Pacquiao -- kryptonite to Mexican fighters and Barrera in particular -- the sport is losing one of its all-time greats, and one of the most entertaining warriors of any era. I briefly visited his list of accomplishments before, but it's worth revisiting more fully here, because it's truly worthy of awe when they're all stacked up. Titles at junior featherweight (122 lbs.), featherweight (126) and junior lightweight (130). Ring Magazine fights of the year and rounds of the year in 2000 and 2004. Fight of the year candidates in 1996, 2006 and 2007, if not more years. Persistent inhabitant of unofficial top 10 "pound for pound" lists of best fighters since around the turn of the century, and before that, on and off starting in the mid-90s. One half of one of boxing's greatest trilogies, where he won two of three versus Erik Morales. Sixty-three wins, including victories against Naseem Hamed -- in one of his greatest performances, a dismantling of the popular Hamed's legend -- Morales, Kennedy McKinney, Johnny Tapia, Paulie Ayala, Daniel Jiminez, Luis Freitas, Kevin Kelley and Rocky Juarez. Definitive losses against only Pacquiao and Junior Jones, and borderline losses that could have gone Barerra's way against Jones in their second meeting, Morales and Juan Manuel Marquez. Ring Magazine comeback of the year in 2004, one of several dramatic career rebirths. One of the top five -- or at worst, top 10 -- Mexican fighters ever, quite a big deal in a country with as strong a boxing tradition as any other on the planet. A first ballot hall-of-famer. I could say a great deal more about Barrera in an attempt to give him his due praise, but what he did in the ring kinda glorifies itself, doesn't it?
2. Andrew Golota, please go away. "The Foul Pole" -- infamous for his in-ring meltdowns such as his two straight disqualifications against Riddick Bowe, which he earned by punching Bowe in the nuts endlessly -- is making yet another comeback bid in the wasteland that is the heavyweight division, with his latest and most noteworthy win coming this weekend over shell-of-Mike Tyson conqueror Kevin McBride. I was about to say the only fight I want to see Golota in is one where he's a sacrificial lamb and KO victim for some up-and-comer, but forgot my rule about wishing suffering on the mentally ill. I shouldn't villianize him. I just plain want him to go away.
3. My condolences, Jose Antonio Rivera. It saddens me that Rivera probably is never going to get his one big chance, which looks farther away than ever after his knockout loss to Daniel Santos on Saturday. Rivera is about as lovable a person you'll find in a sport where the goal is to bludgeon your opponent into unconsciousness. He's nice and humble and has said time and again that all he wants before he retires is a major money fight to make it easier to provide for his family. He's a court security officer by day who has enough skill, heart and power to have spent much of his nighttime career just on the periphery of that fight, save for some awful luck. In 2004, he missed the money train when then-welterweight (147 lbs.) flavor of the month Ricardo Mayorga bailed out of a scheduled meeting. In 2005 he lost a title shot to Luis Collazo, weight-drained in part because he'd not been able to train full-time due to his day job. Beloved in his hometown of Worcester, Mass., he was given time off in 2006 to train for a junior middleweight (154 lbs.) title fight against Alejandro Garcia, which he won entertainingly but which nobody saw because it happened the same night that Oscar De La Hoya beat up Mayorga. Then, earlier this year, because of some complicated circumstances with the belt-sanctioning organization, he was forced into a mandatory defense and disastrous style matchup against the far slicker, faster Travis Simms. Now the road back to a title shot and subsequent millions is almost infinitely long for a 34-year-old with two straight KO losses, and ESPN writes that his career is probably over. He's getting into the boxing promotion business back in Massachusetts, and I wish him luck for once there -- although reports are that he's off to a rocky start, having run into some trouble with the state's boxing bureaucracy, poetically if cruelly.

Once I Was Blind, Now I Can See

There'll be ample boxing to talk about this week -- Marco Antonio Barrera ending his remarkable career, another must-see fight or two coming up Saturday, how the hell Jameel McCline gave Samuel Peter so much trouble when it took harder-hitting Vladimir Klitschko 12 rounds to hit "The Nigerian Nightmare" with a punch that had him reeling -- but there's something much more unimportant I want to address. I'm skipping over the more meaningful topics in part because I won't see the Barrera-Manny Pacquiao fight until next weekend, assuming they'll replay the $50 main event for free on HBO, and because I didn't catch but a few rounds of Peter-McCline despite my best intentions. The other reason is because I'm feeling like less of an idiot these days about the topic at hand, and I want to express my relief about it: Predictions.

Unless you're Las Vegas or a professional gambler, boxing predictions are more art than science. Ultimately, they matter very little. At most, one's prediction accuracy says a tiny amount about what one knows about the sport. But they're part of the fun of being a fight fan, at least for me.

And when I started up this blog, my prediction accuracy started in the gutter, then rolled around in it for a while. I went 1 for 5 in July, my first month online. That's Alex Rodriguez-in-October-level stuff. My confidence in my understanding of boxing was in shambles. Before I started the blog, when I made predictions in my head, my accuracy was damn good. But had I, like the aforementioned Yankee who kills it in the regular season but vaporizes in the playoffs, choked when it really mattered?

As it turns out, nowadays I'm more like a Yankee more famous for his fall performances, Mr. October himself, Reggie Jackson. Since August 1, I've gone 6 for 6. Sometimes, I haven't been right about the exact nature of the victory. Take this weekend, when Peter had to gut out a decision against a three-time also-ran in the form of McCline, rather than knocking him out in the middle rounds as I haughtily scoffed that he would. Other times I've been pretty proud that my going against conventional wisdom ended up being such a dashing move. That would be like this weekend again, when, as I predicted, Barrera reportedly made a better showing than in his 2003 battering from the fists of Pacquiao, even though age and career arc both looked to solidly favor a Pac-Man blowout of the Baby-Faced Assassin. But ultimately, I'd rather be wrong about the reason my pick won, as I have sometimes since August, than right about the reason my pick might lose, as I was pretty consistently before then.

Of course, now that I've brought this to the fore, the fates will observe my hubris and make me pay. Anticipating this, I've got a plan to head them off at the pass. I'm going to predict the exact opposite of what I think will happen for the next few weeks, no matter how crazy I look. Trust me, 13-loss, Federico Catubay will KO Vic Darchinyan in one round! It's going to be a fun October, for a lot of reasons.

Regards,
The "Real" Mr. October















This punk's got nothing on me.

Pac-Man Versus The Baby-Faced Assassin

Manny Pacquiao is a sensation, pure and simple. He's one of the most famous people on the planet, if the manic devotion of one country counts for anything, and no worse than the second or third best boxer around regardless of weight class. He's certainly the most fun to watch, with his fists rocketing into his opponent in constant barrages, fast as quicksilver and heavy as bricks.

Marco Antonio Barrera is a living legend. He's maybe one of the five best Mexican fighters ever to lace up the gloves. He can box smartly, he can brawl, or he can do both from one round to the next. He's one half of one of boxing's all-time great trilogies, against fellow Mexican Erik Morales. But the last time he ran across Pacquiao in 2003, he got the beating of his lifetime until his corner threw in the towel in the 11th.

When they meet again Saturday night, Barrera, four years older at age 33 -- ancient for a 130-pounder (junior lightweight) -- will be the heavy underdog against Pacquiao, four years better at age 28. And yet I find myself itching at a creeping feeling that I should pick Barrera to win.

Maybe I bought into the hype of the mouth-watering countdown special that HBO produces for its big fights, which highlighted that unlike last time, Barrera has no distractions, no fires forcing him to evacuate his training camp, no questions over the revelation that he'd had surgery to implant a metal plate in his head. He is bent on revenge, thinking night and day of Pacquiao, motivated by the pride that makes him the kind of warrior in the ring who is consumed with answering every punch like it's an insult to his very being. And unlike last time, Pacquiao isn't the ambitious, single-minded up-and-comer, but a star who is so distracted by his hero worship in the Philippines, he shows up to training camp a month later than Barrera. It sounds like role reversal, but then, it's to HBO's advantage to create doubt that Barrera can win. Otherwise, the people will be paying their $50 for a pay-per-view beatdown of a boxing icon, a total buzzkill.

Since 2003, Barrera has won the rubber match against Morales, his hated rival for the love of Mexican fans, relying upon a perfect mixture of skill and meanness in 2004's consensus fight of the year. He nearly lost a brawl to another young up-and-comer, Rocky Juarez -- a candidate for fight of the year in 2006 -- then adopted his slick boxing persona for an easy win in the rematch. And earlier this year, he became the first high-profile Mexican to take on his most avoided fellow countryman, Juan Manuel Marquez. The result was yet another fight of the year candidate, showcasing about the highest level of skill you'll ever see in a boxing ring, but Barrera came out on the losing end after nearly scoring a knockout late. The fact is, win or lose, Barrera is fearless, he's smart to the point of being devious, and he's never once bored me, although I missed his alleged yawner rematch with Juarez.

Since 2003, Pacquiao has upgraded from rising star to supernova. When he fought Barrera, Pacquiao was a one-trick pony, but as the saying goes, it was a great trick: a quick one-two -- right jab, straight left, repeat. In his next fight the following year, Pacquiao used it to deck the aforementioned Marquez three times in the first round, but the awfully clever Marquez figured it out in the rounds after that, battling back for a draw. The aforementioned Morales fought Pacquiao next in 2005, where Morales exploited the one-dimensionality Marquez exposed at the beginning of Pacquiao's own tremendous trilogy with Barrera's nemesis, defeating the Filipino icon. By the sequel in 2006, though, Pacquiao was a different fighter. He had a right hook, and he spent a lot more time punching to the body. It was all he needed to hand Morales the first KO of his career in round 10, then the second KO of his career during the rubber match in a much shorter but intensely captivating three-rounder. Pacquiao's bouts with Marquez and Morales all were fight of the year candidates, and primarily on the strength of his wins over Morales, he was named Ring Magazine's Fighter of the Year in 2006. Pacquiao is an energetic, ferocious, almost happy warrior, and now that he's sharpened his natural gifts with improved skills, many think he's the best boxer still roaming between the ring ropes.

MY PREDICTION: The only thing I'm sure of is that this will be better than their last fight. I say this despite Barrera's advanced age and accumulated years of punishment because Barrera's proven time and again that he's at his best when he's at the apex of public doubt. I don't believe his pride will let him lose so badly this time around. Still, having re-watched their first meeting, I'm picking Pacquiao by decision. He was far faster than Barrera, and still will be Saturday night. No distractions can change that. He should put together enough quick, hard-hitting rounds, even if he's not in peak physical condition, to pull out a victory on the judge's scorecards.
CONFIDENCE: 60%. Pacquiao should win, and yet, if you go to the 2003 tape, you'll see that Barrera fared pretty well in the first round, before Pacquiao overwhelmed him with blurry bursts of energy. While he was soundly defeated, Barrera still had his moments throughout, floating wisps of possibility for 2007. And remember, Barrera has, throughout his career, performed far better in rematches.
MY ALLEGIANCE: Pacquiao. I admire Barrera greatly, but I'm serious when I say there's no one I enjoy watching more than Pacquiao. His stubborn commitment to goofing off outside the ring -- star in movies! record albums! run for political office office! (allegedly) nuture a gambling problem betting on cockfights! -- make him a character, but it also infuriates me to the point of hoping he pays for it one day. That day hasn't arrived yet. I'm with the Pac-Man over the Baby-Faced Assassin in a rematch of great nicknames and great fighters.











Will crap like this be Pacquiao's downfall?

Five About Fighting: D.A.R.E. II, Easy Call, Wussing Out, Getting Selfish And A Telling Diss

Four random thoughts, plus one prediction.

1. Revisiting the Shane Mosley drug question, a number of boxing writers want to let this one slide. Mosley, after all, has never behaved like anything but a model citizen and he's a legendary fitness freak, so what would compel him to succumb to the temptation of an extra edge? I don't doubt either of those facts, but Mosley's excuse -- "I didn't know what I was taking" -- is identical to the rote denial offered by less model citizens, and not a particularly good one. It's only value is that, unless someone else brings forth proof otherwise, it can't be debunked automatically. But as Bad Left Hook posed the question, "You're telling me Mosley and his handlers would take something without knowing precisely what it is? Even though the steroids were undetectable, it seems a little too risky." It's even stranger since Mosley is apparently Mr. Goodbody. Whereas Bad Left Hook opts to trust Mosley, I'm going to err in the direction of skepticism.
2. I don't have much to say about Sam Peter fighting Jameel McCline Saturday on Showtime. Peter's going to knock him out around the sixth, confidence 99%, allegiance to Peter. It's not that McCline's a bad fighter, and yes, his height could pose a problem to the relatively tree trunk-like Peter. But McCline's job, so far as I can tell, is to lose against the elite talents of his division, and Peter's no worse than the second best heavyweight. If Zuri Lawrence -- Zuri Lawrence, for chrissakes -- beat McCline, Peter should have no trouble. Still, I'll probably be watching, as it's hard for me to justify the $50 on Manny Pacquiao-Marco Antonio Barrera II, also airing Saturday on HBO PPV. It's going to be expensive over the next few months if I buy every nifty pay per view coming down the pike.
3. I've gone soft on "The Contender," a little. The two contestants last week -- Stubby Lopez and Wayne McCantpunch or whatever their names were -- put on a pretty decent scrap considering neither of them were all that good. I loved the spirit of Stubby, who looked like he was going to be a sitting duck with that frame of his and his late start at the fight game. But as a boxing fan, I really enjoyed some of the behind-the-scenes stuff, I liked watching the fighters get prepared, I thought the scene with Sam Soliman in the icewater tub was great and yes, I even got a little emotional about the family scenes. I still was annoyed by some of the reality show's already-cliched conventions, like the ultra-dramatic music when the fighters come to sit down and review the night before, but the music truly works during the fights, and they've cut back since last I saw on the dopey sound effects. Tonight's episode was OK, too, with a nice fight between Sakio Bika and Donnie McCrary, although man is that Bika an awkward cat. I liked it enough to watch if not much else is on, but it still isn't appointment television for me.
4. There are all kinds of mysterious goings-on surrounding whom David Diaz, a 135-pound beltholder, and Joshua Clottey, a 147-pound contender, will fight next. I won't get into the specifics, but things as they look now suggest that Diaz will fight Michael Katsidis and Clottey will fight Luis Collazo. I'd like both, please. See how selfish I'm getting, after one weekend of being spoiled by excellent fights? Both of those are very intriguing matchups, albeit between people hardly anyone has heard of. Katsidis has star potential, and Diaz is the kind of tough hombre who can bring it out of him if he doesn't beat it out of him. With the other two lightweight Diazes, Juan and Julio, ready to rumble next weekend, it would be an excellent start to attaining some clarity about who's the best in the division. Clottey and Collazo are both peculiar stylists whose contrasts could make for a very interesting bout, and each have the potential to break into the stacked welterweight upper ranks, but they need to earn it against each other.
5. Once more into Taylor-Pavlik: Over at TheSweetScience.com, Jermain Taylor's promoter, Lou DiBella, totally dissed Taylor's trainer, Emmanuel Steward, for his advice between the second and third rounds, just after Taylor nearly had Kelly Pavlik KO'd. I suspect what has been a rocky partnership between Taylor and Steward may not last much longer. Some of the fault lies with Taylor's stubbornness -- how many times has he done the exact opposite of what Steward asked him? -- but I think general bad chemistry is also to blame. Maybe it's time for Taylor to bring in someone new, or the trainer who led him to the middleweight (160 lbs.) championship, Pat Burns.

It turns out that if you examine Slim Goodbody's insides closely, you can see he has a hematocrit level of 52.2, "off the charts," according to experts.

A Fall And Winter Bumper Crop Of Fights -- Best In A Decade? -- Ranked

Having danced around the subject of this fall and winter's stellar lineup of fights -- the aforementioned lineup so good it's slated to make 2007 the best year in boxing in perhaps a decade, according to veteran boxing commentators -- it's long overdue that I go right to the heart of the matter.

If you're not a regular fan of the sport, what fights are the ones you most need to see, and why? And if you are a regular fan of the sport, how about we start a discussion about what fights YOU most want to see, and why?

Here are mine, using a subjective formula mixing potential fireworks with importance. (Full disclosure: This post is partially inspired by a similar list posted here, but the author didn't rank them as explicitly as I have.) Clearly, I'm most excited about the first fight, which I think has the chance to be truly special, but several of them have similar potential to rise above "really great" to "instant classic."

BEST OF THE BEST

#1 Shane Mosley v. Miguel Cotto
Cotto and Mosley are two of the very best in boxing's finest division, the welterweights (147 lbs.), and most think they are two of the 10 best fighters in any division regardless of weight. Style-wise, there isn't a more compelling match-up on the planet.
"Sugar" Shane Mosley is one of the handful of active fighters that the general public might have heard of, and with good reason. Mosley is not only an all-around gifted athlete -- possessing of a lethal mix of speed and power -- but he has relished every opportunity to fight the most feared guys around. He made his name toppling Oscar De La Hoya twice, both times about 20 lbs. north of the 135-pound weight class at which Mosley had become a favorite of hardcore fans. But Mosley's four losses said just as much about what he was made of as his wins. He took on Vernon Forrest, who had troubled him as an amateur, and when the style difficulties proved just as tough to surmount in the pros and Forrest penetrated Mosley's air of invincibility, he didn't hesitate to take a rematch. Not long after, Mosley opted to fight Winky Wright, not yet a superstar but notorious at this point for being avoided by everyone due to his well-named "tortoise-shell" defense that made him all but impossible to hit cleanly and almost certain to damage his opponent's marketability. He lost, but went after the rematch yet again. In both rematches, Mosley lost, but fought better. Four losses in six fights usually seals a fighter's doom in the public eye, and Mosley's career took a hit for his bravery. Since, he has climbed back into boxing's upper ranks with back-to-back knockouts of the much larger Fernando Vargas, and in a return to the welterweight division that is far more suited to his frame, he challenged and defeated a crafty southpaw named Luis Collazo. Collazo was exactly the kind of guy Mosley maybe should have avoided from a career standpoint, and yet he looked sensational in that win and in the two wins over Vargas.
Most may not have heard of Miguel Cotto, but he is on the brink of breakthrough superstardom. His last fight, against Zab Judah this summer, sold out Madison Square Garden, and beforehand, he threw out the first pitch at a Yankees game. Each maneuver suggested crossover mainstream appeal looms. Like Mosley, his popularity is deserved. His battle with Judah was a pure slugfest, with a major helping of skill, and was one of the 2007's best. Judah, once on the brink of superstardom himself before a series of misadventures inside and outside the ring, fought the best fight of his life, creating some difficult moments for Cotto. Cotto, in turn, never stopped grinding and attacking, and by the end of the battle, he had battered the faster, perhaps more powerful Judah into submission, securing Cotto an 11th round technical knockout victory. In his biggest win to date, Cotto yet again burnished his reputation as having earned one of boxing fandom's highest compliments: "Never in a bad fight." No matter how hard Cotto gets hit, no matter how many times Cotto appears on the verge of being knocked out, no matter how much they run away from him, Cotto hunts down his man and nails him with those punishing left hooks to the body.
Mosley hits fast and hard, with a decent defense and great footwork but a zeal for combat. Cotto hits harder but not as fast, with his own zeal for combat written into his strategy to thump his opponent into a pulp -- no matter his own very real risk of getting knocked out. Bouts between guys like Mosley who are boxer-punchers and guys like Cotto who are punchers with skill almost never fail to deliver excitement and strategic intrigue. Cotto is a young gun encountering his most difficult challenge for the shot at a legacy-making win; Mosley is a veteran with nothing left to prove but would like a couple more career-defining victories before retirement. For the winner? Potentially even bigger fights. (See #5.)
When and where: Nov. 10, HBO pay-per-view. I'll be buying.

#2 Joe Calzaghe v. Mikkel Kessler
Unless you live in Europe or follow boxing closely, the names "Calzaghe" and "Kessler" mean nothing to you. But they are the two best super-middleweights (168 lbs.) by a wide stretch, with Calzaghe on the verge of a history-making title defense reign. Standing in his way is Kessler, ranked lower on the subjective, so-called "pound for pound" lists of the best active fighters, but still knocking on the door of greatness. ESPN's magazine has dubbed him a potential crossover star.
Joe Calzaghe, of Wales, has a bewildering offense; he throws combinations of punches from odd angles that look like they're delivered improperly, almost similar to slaps. His 20 straight title defenses amount to the best current streak, but it was not until his 2006 meeting with Jeff Lacy, touted as a smaller heir to Mike Tyson for his fabled knockout power, that Calzaghe proved his streak was legitimate. Prone to looking vulnerable in fights against so-so competition, Calzaghe rose to the occasion against the highly-regarded Lacy, pummeling him so thoroughly that spectators feared Lacy would never be the same again.
Like Calzaghe, Mikkel Kessler had, until recently, had the aura of "protected champion" -- a fighter who has a belt but defended it against nobodies. But the Dane unified that title with a convincing knockout win over fellow belt-holder Markus Beyer, then won a brilliant, near-shutout victory over highly-ranked contender Librado Andrade. Kessler looked, in that performance, like a perfect fighting machine. He showed great offensive versatility, good defense, hard punches and everything else you could want.
Again, styles make fights, and this is a beautiful style match-up. Both men are fast, both are strong, both throw tons of combinations. It's hard to imagine this one not producing loads of action. And it is always a cause for celebration when the two best fighters in a division meet; this is regarded as the most important fight between super-middleweights since 1994. And, again, the winner here could go on to another major fight (see #3).
When and where: Nov. 3, HBO.

#3 Jermain Taylor v. Kelly Pavlik
I covered this one in my last post, so I will scrimp here, but to summarize: Jermain Taylor is the undisputed middleweight (160 lbs.) king, a major athlete and Olympian who has heart in spades to compensate for his worrisome lapses in technique and who emerged with his unbeaten record unscathed in three meetings against two all-time greats, Bernard Hopkins and Winky Wright. Kelly Pavlik is an offensive force who rolls forward without much regard to whether he gets clobbered, all in the name of landing his plentiful and hurtful blows, which worked to spectacular effect recently against fellow offensive-minded, power-punching contender Edison Miranda. Yes, I predicted Pavlik will blow out Taylor, but I'm in the minority. No matter if it is or isn't competitive, this is a fight pitting two young, talented fighters against one another -- the two best in their division -- and must be watched because of its significance and potential. Both are leaving the division after this fight, so the winner could get big names like Felix Trinidad, Bernard Hopkins, or Roy Jones, Jr. next, or perhaps the winner of Calzaghe-Kessler, unless the winner of that fight snaps up the big names for themselves.
When and where: Sept. 29, HBO.

#4 Manny Pacquiao v. Marco Antonio Barrera II
This is a rematch of Pacquiao's 2003 star-making turn against Barrera -- one of the best Mexican fighters ever in a country that has a rich boxing history -- in which Barrera suffered his most crushing defeat. There are two schools of thought here. One is that Pacquiao, having already conquered Barrera when Pacquiao wasn't as good as he is now, will steamroll Barrera, who is getting long in the tooth. Another school of thought is that Pacquiao is more distracted than ever by his dramatic life in the Philippines, where he is a transcendent figure prone to numerous business, entertainment and even political side projects, while Barrera in 2003 was going through personal strife and opted foolishly to stand toe-to-toe with a fighter stepping up in weight and who was a lesser-known betting underdog. At any rate, these are two of the best 130-pounders (junior lightweights) around, both destined for the hall-of-fame and among the best, if not the best, their respective boxing-mad countries have to offer.
Pacquiao is like a little tornado. He swarms his opponents with punches that come hard and fast, and while he was once limited to a jab-straight left combination that looked indefensible, his draw with Juan Manuel Marquez and defeat at the hands of Erik Morales demonstrated that smart boxers who knew what to expect would eventually outmaneuver a guy who has only one idea, even if it's a really great idea. Having worked to develop a greater variety of punches, Pacquiao now brings the science. Just ask Morales, who in their rematch suffered his only real knockdowns -- and two straight knockouts -- courtesy of a much-improved Pacquiao. Bar-none, Pacquiao is the most exciting fighter there is today.
Barrera once opted only to brawl, but he, too turned into an in-ring scientist. His trilogy with Morales was a brutal ballet, one of the best three-fight series in boxing history. Now a classic boxer-puncher, Barrera can win either grueling slugfests (as he did last year against dangerous youngster Rocky Juarez) or employ his tremendous boxing skills en route to victory (as he did in a rematch against Juarez). He is the premier reigning warrior of boxing now that similarly-aged fighters have retired or moved on, a guy who is ready for war every time the bell rings. If Barrera can find the right concoction of savagery and technique, he can pull the upset. Did I mention that this fight also pits two of the so-called "pound for pound" best regardless of division against one another? Pacquiao is the consensus second-best around, with Barrera a little lower on the list these days.
When and where: Oct. 6, HBO pay-per-view.

#5 Floyd Mayweather, Jr. v. Ricky Hatton
If Pacquiao is boxing's most exciting fighter, then Mayweather is its best. No one has his combination of intelligence, defense, speed, technique and reflexes, and when he decides to put on an offensive show instead of coasting to victory, it is awe-inspiring. He flaunts the diamonds he's purchased with his fight purses in a symbolic flashiness to match his boxing prowess. Hatton is another top 10 pound for pound guy, but he's on the opposite end of the scale. Hatton is a rock and roll drummer to Mayweather's virtuoso pianist. He is a man of the people in Great Britain, favoring its pubs when not training and when he's at his best in the ring, he wears people down with his energy, body punches and blue-collar work ethic.
Mayweather, who comes from a family of boxers, began his career at 130 lbs., where he won his first title at a prodigious 21 years of age. Since, he has hardly faced a moment of difficulty in the ring, usually winning every single round of every fight he's been in despite chronic hand injuries, often drawing ooos and ahhhhs from the crowd for his unique talents. (The title of this very blog comes from a remark once made about Mayweather by a boxing scribe -- "as easy as a Floyd Mayweather seven punch combo" -- referring to a repeated series of unanswered of blows Mayweather landed against Arturo Gatti that had to be seen in slow motion to appreciate the brilliance of it all. Trying to defend against the assault, Gatti was split seconds behind every punch Mayweather landed -- straight rights, left hooks, body punches, head punches, everything.) His biggest career win came this year against De La Hoya, and De La Hoya posed a rare challenge to him, perhaps in part because Mayweather was fighting at a less-than-ideal 154 lbs. (junior middleweight). Now he's back at a more comfortable 147 lbs (welterweight).
Hatton is the 140-pound (junior welterweight) king, where he made his name conquering one of the division's legends, Kostya Tszyu. Near the end of the fight, after being mauled and wrestled and crowded and shoved around by Hatton -- and also getting hit by him a whole lot -- Tszyu quit between rounds, and hasn't returned to the ring since. Hatton went on to become 2005 fighter of the year, according to Ring magazine and most everyone else, after defeating a second fellow-titleholder to secure the unofficial trophy. He has frequently looked very shaky beyond those glory days, though, with a step up to welterweight going poorly when Luis Collazo nearly defeated him. He stepped back down to 140 lbs. following that close call and finally delivered a nice performance earlier this year, knocking out a shopworn Jose Luis Castillo with a vicious body punch. Now he's about to return to welterweight for a big money battle with Mayweather.
Some expect a Mayweather blowout of Hatton, since Mayweather is prone to blanking crude guys like Hatton. I still expect Mayweather to win, but believe Hatton could give Mayweather all he can handle. After all, next to the De La Hoya fight, Mayweather's stiffest challenge came against a younger version of the Castillo that Hatton defeated, as Castillo crowded Mayweather and stayed busy against him, especially with punches to the body. That's exactly the kind of fighter Hatton is, if a somewhat less technically sound kind than Castillo was then. The winner could, or should, meet up with the winner of Mosley-Cotto. That would be a big, big fight no matter which fighter meets, given Mosley's well-known name, Cotto's ever-growing fan base, Mayweather's status as the best around and Hatton's rabid Great Britain following.
When and where: Dec. 8, HBO pay-per-view.

BEST OF THE REST

#6 Ricardo Mayorga v. Fernando Vargas
Two over-the-hill sluggers with nothing left to lose -- this is the ultra-popular Vargas' farewell bout, and Mayorga is boxing's premier villain -- are already indulging in fisticuffs and a profane-even-by-boxing standards war of words at news conferences in advance of their fight. It should be spirited when they finally get into the ring at the strange, agreed upon "catchweight" of 162 lbs. Sept. 8, Showtime pay-per-view.

#7 Juan Diaz v. Julio Diaz
Two of the 135-pound division's three belt-holding Diazes rumble in a hardcore fight fan delight to answer at least part of the question about who the best lightweight Diaz is. Young Juan is an all-action, all-the-time fighter who moonlights as a college student; Julio might be a little more of a boxer than a brawler but tends to get into brawls anyway. Oct. 13, HBO.

#8 Roy Jones, Jr. v. Felix Trinidad
Over the last decade or so, Jones and Trinidad have been two of the biggest names in boxing, and the fight that was supposed to happen about five or six years ago has finally arrived. Trinidad's coming out of retirement to meet Jones, on the comeback trail himself after a couple knockout defeats, at another "catchweight" fight at 170 lbs. Jan. 26, pay-per-view, likely Showtime.

#9 Jean-Marc Mormeck v. David Haye
Mormeck is the acknowledged cruiserweight (200 lbs.) champion, while Haye is a young contender. Both men have little to no interest in defense; both spend almost all their time trying to bludgeon their opponents. That usually makes for very entertaining fights, as long as they last. Nov. 10, MSG Network.

#10 Humberto Soto v. Joan Guzman
Soto and Guzman are both on the verge of moving into the upper echelon of the deep junior lightweight division (130 lbs.) inhabited by big names like Pacquiao, Barrera and others. Since they already are the kind of guys who like to stand in front of their man and trade blows, that incentive should add a little more sizzle. Nov. 13, HBO.

Boxing News Of The Weird And So Forth

Stick to the fists, O'Neil. And come back soon. We miss you. (from antique-used-tools.com)

• Random. Oh, O'Neil Bell. The most recent cruiserweight (200 lbs.) champion to unify all the belts of the various organizations that give out belts missed his ESPN date Wednesday because, according to the Associated Press, he "was dropped from the card when officials with the show's promoter, Warriors Boxing, were unable to locate him the past two weeks." Prior, in February, according to the Associated Press, "Bell was arrested over the weekend after a sparring partner claimed he heaved a hatchet at him during a training run through the woods, authorities said." Bell, whose nickname is "Give 'Em Hell," should consider changing his moniker to a version of the nickname granted to Owen "What The Heck" Beck: "What The Hell?"
• Random. While perusing a rulebook for my recent post on excessive hugging in boxing, I stumbled across this quizzical rule: "If a boxer attempts to foul his opponent while exerting any type of unsportsmanlike conduct or unorthodox move and he injures himself, the Referee will treat the injury as if a legal blow caused it." I've never seen this rule applied, but if it is in any forthcoming fight, REMEMBER WHERE YOU HEARD IT FIRST!
• Wrap-up. It's an interesting anomaly that Showtime pointed out prior to Marquez-Vasquez II: Three of Ring Magazine's last seven "fight of the year" awardees came at bantamweight (118 lbs.) and super-bantamweight (122 lbs.). Marquez-Vasquez II has an excellent chance of making it four of eight. Or is it an anomaly? Anyone who only pays attention to the higher weight classes -- nobody higher than 140 lbs. has won "fight of the year" awards from Ring Magazine since 1996 -- well, The Ring's William Dettloff said it best after the latest fight of the year candidate: "I almost feel sorry for the non-boxing fans out there. They have no idea what they’re missing. " God bless Comcast On-Demand: HBO just re-aired Erik Morales-Marco Antonio Barrera I, the 2000 fight of the year at 122 lbs., and yes, I now have on tape that fight, one of the best ever, back-to-back with Marquez-Vasquez II.
  
• Wrap-up. Speaking of Marquez-Vasquez II, fellow 122-pound titlist Daniel Ponce DeLeon told maxboxing.com: "I thought Marquez did not prepare fully. He took (Vazquez) too lightly and ran out of gas. Vazquez looked in much better shape than was the case last time out and the result showed. This time he was able to get on the inside on a consistent basis and do his damage, zapping Marquez’s energy with the fight turning out the way it did.” I have no idea if DeLeon is right, but something seemed off about Marquez to me. Confidence? Conditioning? I can't rule out the possibility that I got suckered by the pre-fight talk of better preparation by Marquez, thus driving me back into the cave of "never trust a fighter who says he's in the best shape of his life."
• Preview. I haven't seen enough of this weekend's star Boxing After Dark combatants at (you guessed it) 122 lbs. to make predictions with any confidence, but I know enough about them to bet it's going to be an incredible double-header. The aforementioned DeLeon is all kinds of wild knockout power, and he's taking on the younger, also-powerful, more technical, but less granite-chinned Rey Bautista. I'm tempted to favor DeLeon here, but only because I've seen more of him and Bautista got dropped in the one bout of his I've witnessed. Also, Jhonny Gonzalez, whose sweet science is fierce, battles Gary Penalosa, the man who nearly upset DeLeon in their last fight. Weight class? 118 lbs.
  

Pound For Pound

The United States Congress kept me from viewing Saturday night's clash between Rafael Marquez and Israel Vasquez, and wouldn't you know it -- it turned out to be the NEW consensus fight of the year. It's re-airing Tuesday night on Showtime, so I thought I'd preoccupy myself with something else...

You'll notice I don't have a "pound for pound" list, a prerequisite for any and all boxing publications and websites that want to give you their take on who the best fighters are regardless of weight class, from the strawweights (105 lbs.!) to some of the gigantic heavyweights (300 lbs.!). I opted against this for several reasons. First off, admittedly, it's difficult to judge. Should one just imagine all the fighters shrunk or grown to one size -- say, 160 lbs. -- and evaluate who would win? That's hardly the best way, it seems to me, because certain world-class fighters may be vulnerable to certain styles. He may beat almost every other fighter around, but lose to a second-tier fighter who just presents a bad match-up. Sure, the best fighters overcome that, but it shouldn't be the only standard. What about quality of wins? This is very important, obviously. But what if a good fighter loses a decision that most everyone thinks he won? That, too, suggests compilers of pound-for-pound lists should only consider it as a factor. All this and more is why I instead have a list of my favorite fighters -- to me, that's more interesting anyway. Which boxers do I like to watch, regardless of whether they win or lose?

That said, I've finally summoned the cojones to prepare my own list, using factors such as wins, whether X fighter would beat all the others weight being equal and a few more. I think the top three on my list are actually very clearly the three best. The remainder are people who are great fighters but their records are mixed for some reason, because of recent losses or some other neutralizer I'll describe in each individual case.

Feel free to tell me how wrong I am, of course.

TOP 10 POUND FOR POUND

1. Floyd Mayweather, Jr. (welterweight, 147) I think Floyd defeats every fighter on this list, size being even, by virtue of his physical gifts, ring intelligence and underrated willpower. His career is riddled with wins against likely hall-of-famers, and although he has taken a press beating lately for making boring fights or not fighting the best fighters available every time he steps between the ropes, he staved off a challenge from the #2 person on my list by defeating the much bigger Oscar De La Hoya in a weight class about two too high, junior middleweight (154 lbs.). Oscar's not as good as the general public probably assumes he is, but he is a top 20 fighter and even in losses against the best has comported himself well. There may be guys who could trouble Floyd with size or a difficult style, but not many.
   
2. Manny Pacquiao. (junior lightweight, 130) Manny has deployed his whirling dervish offense against several fighters who, at the time, were considered among the best pound-for-pound. It's paid off for him. He only lost once in the sequence, to all-time Mexican great Erik Morales, but avenged that one with two knockouts against a guy in Morales who'd never in his career suffered even a clean knockdown. In something of a pattern, he also mauled all-time great Mexican Marco Antonio Barrera like he never had been before, and flattened another all-time great Mexican in Juan Manuel Marquez three times in the first round en route to a draw. With ever-improving boxing skills to match his power and energy, Pacquiao beats most everyone on this list, but his quality of wins is through the roof.
3. Bernard Hopkins. (light heavweight, 175) Yes, he's old as hell. Yes, he bores me to tears. But he simply finds a way to win, no matter if his opponent is an undersized superstar like Tito Trinidad or a bigger man like Antonio Tarver, the previous light heavyweight king. His last win was against a man rated higher at the time on most pound for pound lists, Winky Wright. Think hard before you decide he couldn't beat the younger, faster, perhaps stronger Joe Calzaghe. The crafty Hopkins simply out-thinks everyone he fights.
4. Juan Manuel Marquez. (junior lightweight, 130) After years of questions about his willingness to get hit and what he would do if he finally got clocked, he got hit convincingly and frequently in his amazing showdown with Pacquiao in 2004. He proved he had heart by coming back from three knockdowns to score a draw. His only blip since is a questionable loss to Chris John, versus a major win over Marco Antonio Barrera. I'm pretty sure he'd lose to Pacquiao in a rematch, but that's about the worst you can say about him.
   
5. Joe Calzaghe. (super middleweight, 168) His flawless win over mega-puncher Jeff Lacy proved that his streak of title defenses, now at 21, was no fluke. That said, he fights too often to the level of his competition, performing poorly against borderline fighters yet still pulling out the win. And I think Calzaghe's next opponent, the skilled Dane Mikkel Kessler, stands a strong chance of ending his streak.
6. Winky Wright. (middleweight, 160) Set aside his recent close loss to Bernard Hopkins, because he was fighting at too high a compromise weight (170). Look instead at the quality wins and the fact that his style would make him nigh-impossible to beat whether he was a natural heavyweight or natural minimumweight. Yet it's clear he's getting old.
7. Shane Mosley. (welterweight, 147) Sugar, too, is getting old, but he's looked refreshed after his rough stretch of four combined losses against Winky Wright and Vernon Forrest, and was fantastic in a return to a more favorable weight class, welterweight. His past accomplishments, and his willingness to take all comers, pushes him higher on this list than he is on similar pound-for-pound compilations.
8. Ricky Hatton. (junior welterweight, 140) Ricky's performances of late have been rocky, but you can't say much bad about his signature victory against all-time great junior welterweight Kostya Tsyzu. And you can't really say much bad about the fact that he's found a way to win every fight he's been in, ugly or not, against reigning champions or game contenders of every style and ability level.
9. Miguel Cotto. (welterweight, 147) Eventually, I think Cotto stands a chance to overtake a lot of people on this list, even if he loses to Mosley later this year. The only thing holding him back is that he does not yet own that victory over a truly great fighter, but like he does in the ring, Cotto will just keep stalking and stalking and stalking...
10. Rafael Marquez. (junior featherweight, 122) Before this weekend, I would have had him as high as fourth. This may be too steep a drop, but it's hard for me to list him as a better fighter than his recent conqueror, Israel Vasquez, when they have split a pair of fights and Vazquez has an ever-growing legacy of his own that doesn't compare too badly. My eyes tell me nonetheless that Marquez is still a better fighter than Vazquez -- although I reserve the right to change my mind after Tuesday's re-airing of their second clash.

KNOCKING ON THE DOOR
There are only a few other fighters I would consider for top-10 status, but you can make a case for all of the below squeezing some of the guys above out. In no particular order:

• Jermain Taylor. He beat Hopkins twice and drew with Wright, yet there are some people who think he lost all three. He beat Cory Spinks, but some say he didn't win that either, all the more embarrassing because Spinks was clearly fighting at too high a weight. But at a certain point, don't you give a guy credit for fighting tough and somehow dragging out the win, even if it's questionable? To break through: Beat fearsome Kelly Pavlik convincingly in the fall.
• Israel Vasquez. He just beat Marquez, cleaned out his division before he did that and along the way soundly beat up Jhonny Gonzalez, a threat from just south of his weight class. I'd throw him in the top ten except he looks vulnerable in every fight, albeit in that good, exciting way, the kind that produces drama, not in Jermain Taylor's awkward, frustrating way. To break through: Take the best two out of three against Marquez in the inevitable rematch.
• Mikkel Kessler. He looked amazing blowing out Markus Beyer and overrated but tough contender Librado Andrade. To break through: Ending Calzaghe's streak would make a strong case for these two switching places.
• Joel Casamayor. There are people who think Casamayor, a dirty-fighting Cuban, has won every fight no matter what his record says, and the case is not without merit. His list of victims, even without that hypothetical, is impressive. His nastiness probably biases some contenders against him for exercises such as these. To break through: Topple a young bulldog or two like Juan Diaz.
• Marco Antonio Barerra. His resume is unbelievable. He's slowed, though, with age. Defeating up-and-coming Rocky Juarez despite that showed he had more left, and some think he actually won his last fight, against Juan Manuel Marquez. To break through: This fall, avenge his loss to Pacquiao, which would be all the more eye-popping because of how unlikely it sounds.
  

Glass Joe from the Nintendo game Mike Tyson's Punch-Out is noticeably absent from my list of the pound-for-pound best. (from smackdownmyrmid.com)

Evander Holyfield: Like Don Quixote, But With A Storied C.V. And A Better Chance Of Defeating The Windmills

Bite his ear off, dislocate his shoulder, palpitate his heart, turn him in a 44-year-old man... nothing stops Holyfield, at least not for one more big fight. (from slam.canoe.ca)


I never experienced Evander Holyfield the way more veteran boxing fans did, in real-time, from his prime to his endless tragedies and resurrections when he was still one of, if not frequently the, best that the heavyweight division had to offer. Rather, I have experienced him as he was in the distant past via the wonders of old fight replays and as he has been for the last several years. The former is by far the preferable.

It did not take long for me to recognize from fight tapes why "The Real Deal" was so beloved. The cruiserweight version of Holyfield may have been the best, but no one ever pays much attention to the cruiserweights; the division, now limited to boxers below 200 lbs., has always been a temporary stop-over for the visibility of fighting the biggest of the big at heavyweight. The cruiserweight Holyfield had it all. He was faster than most everyone, and certainly more powerful. He put together flashy, destructive combinations then nimbly bounced around on the way to throwing more beautiful, devastating flurries. Holyfield eventually succumbed to the temptation of becoming a heavyweight, where his speed still mattered but his power mattered less. It is here where Holyfield became a living legend. Routinely smaller than his gigantic opposition, he fought with such pure guts that he became the people's champion -- the small guy who could step into the ring against a monster like Riddick Bowe and soak up such punishment that it was impossible not to root for him when he stormed back into the fight, as he did in the classic 11th round of their first scrap. By the time he got his long-sought match with Mike Tyson, he'd been through so many vicious wars that people feared he would very likely die should Iron Mike connect with one clean punch. But whereas Buster Douglas' victory over Tyson looked like a fluke in so many ways, Holyfield more than anyone punctured the invincibility of Tyson. In every other fight I've seen of Holyfield's from his glory years -- even those down times when he lost and was suffering from heart conditions and shoulder injuries -- what stood out more than anything is that just when it appeared he was about to lose, he would find a way to reverse it all. The fifth round rally against George Foreman, the knockdown of Bowe in their rubber match... there were so many amazing moments.

The latter way I've experienced Holyfield is as a shell of his former self. When his boxing license was pulled in New York after his listless loss with Larry Donald in 2004, I couldn't have agreed more. All the signs of a magnificent boxing career coming to an end were there: He'd been defeated by a never-was; he looked bad losing, not like he was always clawing toward victory as he was in his defeats of old; and he'd won a total of two fights in five years, losing five and drawing once. Someone needed to pull the plug for Evander, because he wasn't going to do it for himself.

Holyfield insisted, upon his most recent comeback via the states that were willing to license him, that he was merely injured, not shot, and that now he had recovered. He insisted, once again, that he would win the heavyweight title. Even when he clobbered Jeremy Bates in his first two rounds back in the ring in nearly two years, no one was convinced. Bates was an insurance salesman who moonlighted as a boxer, although one who was very good at getting hammered around by better fighters and delivering the occasional dangerous-looking punch. Some of Holyfield's more recent competition was slightly more accomplished, but not a threat to even a B-level heavyweight. The pleas continued. We beg you, Evander, stop fighting. If you think you're going to win a title, you're delusional, and you need to stop getting hit in the head.

Having only moments ago viewed his defeat of Bates for the first time, I can vouch that he looked infinitely better than in his previous unflattering showings, but Bates, by virtue of walking directly into his punches, certainly helped on that account. With each successive win, though, boxing writers have warmed more and more to the idea that the now-44-year-old Holyfield was only injured after all, and that there are heavyweight champions Holyfield might stand a chance to beat in an era of heavyweights among history's worst.

And now he has just that heavyweight: Sultan Ibragimov. Ibragimov is probably the most vulnerable of the four men wearing a championship belt, and once a unification bout fell through with another vulnerable champion, Ruslan Chagaev, Sultan picked Holyfield as a replacement for Oct. 13. Unlike with Mexican warrior Erik Morales, a subject of a recent post, I am going to give Holyfield the benefit of the doubt. I am going to say I believe he will win this fight.

There is a type of athlete unique to boxing that simultaneously provokes thrills and anxiety. He takes unbelievable punishment and soldiers on still. He suffers career depths that are all but insurmountable and somehow surmounts them. He switches from victim to superhuman from round to round, fight to fight, year to year. You grow to love him because of this, but you fear for his life for the same reason. They are the Marco Antonio Barreras, the Aruto Gattis, and yes, the Evander Holyfields. I don't know for sure that Holyfield has more than one big fight in him, if that. But he's proven he has at least a little something left. May he summon it all for the conclusion to his latest, and hopefully last, resurrection.