Quick Jabs: Mayweather/Hatton 24/7 Continued, Fights That Must Happen, Fights That No One Cares To See, A Must-See Prospect And A Bad Idea

All right. It's settled. I think I'll just go with "Quick Jabs" for these collections of musings from now on. Until I think of something better. Maybe I'll even come up with a logo or somethin'.

• The final scene in the most recent episode of HBO's Mayweather/Hatton 24/7 documentary series was absolutely spine-tingling: A palpably intense Ricky Hatton sitting in his car, bucking his playful image and declaring resolutely that he wanted to win more than Floyd Mayweather. Summarized, it doesn't sound very special, but the contrast, both in Hatton's tone compared to his usual nature and in the photography itself, was really something. My affection for Hatton continues to grow, as does my disinterest in Mayweather's constant harping about how much money he has. It's fascinating to see how the series has a number of writers hedging their bets about Mayweather blowing out Hatton. I've never thought this was going to be as easy as some predicted; snide remarks that Mayweather would dispatch with Hatton as easily as he did Arturo Gatti have been way out of line. Hatton is significantly more versatile, having proven he can win via all-out mauling or controlled, safety-first boxing, and has beaten significantly better fighters than Gatti ever did. But I don't want to get ahead of myself. The point of the series is to promote the fight, and it's easier to promote if the show emphasizes Hatton's chances. Scenes like the one in the car do that incredibly well.
• We'll find out by the end of this week whether Manny Pacquiao fights Juan Manuel Marquez in March or David Diaz. On the off-chance that Google search algorithms pick up this post when an official with Top Rank, Pacquiao's main promoter, is playing on the web, let me once again stress that Pacquiao must, must, must fight Marquez. There is not a more important fight in boxing right now than a rematch between these two top-five "pound for pound" best, to settle unfinished business from their mightily entertaining 2004 draw. Last time Marquez was to blame for the rematch falling through, when he demanded too much money. This time if it fails, the blame is entirely with Pacquiao. Even Top Rank head honcho Bob Arum admits that Marquez promoter Golden Boy has been "reasonable" in contract demands, and Marquez is willing to move up in weight from 130, where Pacquiao has begun to strain, to 132 or 135. While I'm at it, I'd like to again lobby for Bernard Hopkins to take on Joe Calzaghe at light heavyweight (175 lbs.); it's arguably the second most important fight yet to be scheduled. The two remarkably spry old men are two more of the top-five pound for pound fighters, with Mayweather rounding out the other slot. Word is that Hopkins is being difficult, and no surprise there. His handlers want a rematch with Roy Jones instead, which may make sense financially and aesthetically but is far less preferable in terms of settling legacies. Boxing's on too much of a hot streak not to make Hopkins/Calzaghe and Pacquiao/Marquez happen. Should one or both falter, all this great momentum will have been for naught.
• Light heavyweight Antonio Tarver is the rare culprit in not making a big fight happen in 2007, when he ducked Chad Dawson by insisting on absurd money. He's up against an unknown Saturday night in a Showtime triple-header also featuring junior middleweight (154 lbs.) Vernon Forrest and flyweight (112 lbs.) Nonito Donaire in against heavy underdogs. I'm not sure where anyone got the idea that this was a good card, but I'll probably watch if I'm around and root for Tarver to lose. This is a bizarrely atypical card in a year loaded with amazing ones, although, at least Donaire's opponent is recognized as something of a contender. I'm predicting victories for the guys I know.
  
• While I'm dispensing advise, if you haven't had a chance to ogle prospect James Kirkland yet, I highly recommend you tune in to Showtime Friday night. Mike Tyson comparisons are thrown around so much in boxing as to be meaningless -- witness Joan Guzman's nickname "Little Tyson," even though he fights nothing like him and hasn't knocked anyone out in forever -- but Kirkland, a junior middleweight, does a lot of what Tyson did. Crushing power. Underrated speed. A single-minded adherence to destroy, destroy, destroy. While Mike Tyson is getting more headlines with his jailtime lunch menu than all of what's good in boxing these days, Kirkland's doing what Tyson used to in the ring. His opponent Friday is another nobody, but Kirkland isn't far away from a title shot or at least a fight where we find out if he's for real.
  
• It's old news, but Jermain Taylor's decision to go with Ozell Nelson as his trainer for a 166-pound rematch with Kelly Pavlik in February is out of the frying pan, into the fire. I'd lobbied for Taylor to part ways with Emmanuel Steward, given the unproductive nature of their relationship thus far, and everyone thought former Taylor trainer Pat Burns would return, since Burns led him to the middleweight (160 lbs.) championship. Instead, the unproven Nelson, a close Taylor adviser who had a bad relationship with Burns, is in the driver's seat. This is an awful decision. Awful. By the sound of Burns' interview with ESPN, Taylor wanted Burns to return and told him so. Taylor just keeps making the wrong choices in the end, from settling with Nelson for reasons no one yet understands to not throwing the uppercut in the 2nd round against Pavlik when that would have ended Taylor's night in a victory instead of in a heap, slumped over unconscious. It's sad, because Taylor has a gift and he's immensely likable, but this bodes for another devastating KO in his near future.

What's With All Those Freaking Belts, Anyway? The Case Of The Sanctioning Organizations And Diaz V. Ring Magazine And Casamayor

A quick primer for the uninitiated, before the court gets to the case of Casamayor v. Diaz et al:

"Alphabet soup" is delicious, save when it comes to boxing. One of the sport's most debilitating diseases is the advent of an almost endless number of title belts in each weight division awarded by the likes of the sanctioning organizations named things like "WBA" and "WBC." The end result of this alphabet soup is that there are often four "champions" per weight class, not to mention the various befuddling "super champion" and "champion in recess" titles that these sanctioning organizations award. The cynical among us suspect that a great many of these bizarre designations are intended only to squeeze sanctioning fees out of the boxers who fight for them, and that's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to unfathomable alphabet soup politics. For instance, terrible, undeserving fighters often end up becoming the "mandatory" challenger for a belt-holder, something that arouses suspicion of incompetence or worse, and sometimes belt-holders are stripped of their titles for what seem to be no reason whatsoever.

Into the confusing breach of the IBF, WBO et al championship belts came Ring Magazine in 2002, with the invention of something like a people-powered champ. It was, and remains, a highly commendable effort. The Ring Magazine started awarding belts in each of the weight divisions to people who were in essence the "linear" champs, a policy that meant the only way to get the belt was to beat the man who had the belt. In the event someone abandons it by retiring or changing weight classes, the belt becomes vacant. When there are vacancies, the top two fighters usually have to fight one another to become Ring champion.

If you follow boxing closely, you know all this already. If you don't, the Ring belts are probably sounding like a grand idea right about now, since one of the reasons boxing turns a lot of people off is that it's too hard to understand who the "real" champ is and who's a phony.

But for the last few weeks, ever since lightweight (135 lbs.) Juan Diaz defeated Julio Diaz to obtain three of the four available alphabet soup belts, a long-simmering debate in the boxing world over the Ring belt has picked up a little extra fire. And when the Ring's lightweight champ, Joel Casamayor, ended a 13-month layoff and looked terrible against a borderline top-10 lightweight named Jose Armando Santa Cruz Saturday -- then to make matters worse, when the judges awarded him a decision victory that people like myself consider the worst they've ever seen -- the fire built to an inferno. Critics of the magazine's belt policy have pounced. Everyone who knows boxing knows Juan Diaz is the best, most accomplished fighter at lightweight. He's beaten more high-caliber fighters in recent years. After Saturday's stinkfest by Casamayor, which, had he not won, would have placed a guy who's a borderline top-10 fighter in Santa Cruz as the "real" champ of the division, no one doubts that Diaz would stomp Casamayor. (Unless, of course, the same good fortune that lifted him to a decision victory of Santa Cruz again raised a historic wind beneath Casamayor's wings.) So how, they ask, can Casamayor be the "real" champ?

No matter how vociferously the Ring's defenders are maintaining that Casamayor's the real champ, what we have on our hands here is a mighty big loophole. (A caveat: I've always been better at identifying problems than fixing them. That's not a cop-out, I promise. I'm going to give it a try.)

There is, as HBO broadcaster Emmanuel Steward laid it out, a case to be made for the sanctioning organization belts. When no one's the mandatory challenger, the champ can strut around in his belt and take on chumps and still pretend he's a real champion. Without a system for establishing a mandatory challenger, really amazing fighters who pose horrific style match-ups or the promise of inflicting tremendous pain with little potential reward -- say, a southpaw who has a reputation for boringly but efficiently grinding his opponents into pulp -- will spend their entire careers being avoided.

It is my opinion that the Ring system is a better reflection in most cases of the "real" champ than some random sanctioning organization. But one can see the potential for abuse in both directions: the WBC's ability to strip belt-holders willy-nilly and force its champs into fights against undeserving contenders leads to all kinds of unfairness; and Ring's rejection of that practice permits its champions to be champions in perpetuity, regardless of whether they take on anyone who can fight a lick.

So how about this as a compromise? Ring already rates the top 10 fighters in each division. Why not give the Ring champ some kind of very loose mandate to fight a #1 contender within, say, two years from the last time he fought a #1 contender? That's not too crazy, is it? And, of course, create an exception for injury or other unintentional delay. I realize it's not that far away from what the sanctioning organizations do, but it's not so close, either. Look, if you can't make a fight with a #1 contender in two years, you're either an insufferable jerk who's impossible to negotiate with (like Casamayor) or you're a coward who doesn't want to risk losing the title. Either way, you don't deserve it after two years of avoiding the next best fighter in your division.

Because right now, I look at Casamayor, and I don't see a champion. Once, sure, in his younger days. Maybe even before the Santa Cruz debacle. But if he hasn't fought Juan Diaz or whoever Ring's #1 contender is by seven months from now, I sure as hell won't see him as a champion then. And if Diaz doesn't want to fight Casamayor anymore after he looked terrible against Santa Cruz and had spent the last year badmouthing Diaz, well, Casamayor dug that hole, didn't he? The remedy for that affliction is for Casamayor to get back into the ring for cheap and beat somebody who's dangerous convincingly and entertainingly, and then, maybe, Diaz would want win the Ring belt fair and square because he might make a little money doing it. If Casamayor can't muster that? After Saturday, I'd rather see Juan Diaz fight, say, the Ring's #2 ranked lightweight David Diaz for the vacant Ring belt anyway. The winner of that fight is a champion I can endorse without question.

And yet, loopholes beget loopholes. Under this idea, maybe after a difficult fighter becomes Ring champion -- our aforementioned boring-but-scary southpaw -- nobody wants to fight the Ring champ, and we're back to square one, and even worse, the whole Ring belt is completely devalued.

The only solution I can think of for that one is, and here's where things get circular: Make the Ring belt so unquestionably THE belt by stripping the policy of loopholes that it's the only belt boxing writers and broadcasters even bother to mention. Because right now, it's difficult to shame reasonable people into touting Casamayor as the "real" champion.

(I'm torn on whether to keep one of the sanctioning organizations around, just in case Ring Magazine gets chippy and decides to take payoffs for its rankings again. Ring's only done it once, while the sanctioning organizations have a longer history of it, but then, none of the sanctioning organizations are officially owned by a boxing promoter. I'll defer judgment on this idea for now.)

An alternative proposal is just to not give a toss about any of these belts anyway and just hope the best end up fighting the best in a way that gives fans what they deserve so that everyone can see with their own eyes who's the top dog, and the rest of 'em can scrap it out for our affection and hard-earned dollar. This happens every now and then -- who cared that there was no belt on the line when Arturo Gatti and Mickey Ward gave us one of the all time best boxing trilogies? -- but I don't want to get too utopian on anyone.










In other belt-related matters, I'm pretty sure I have an uncle who would've worn this belt buckle.

Score For Charismatic, Fun Boxers On The Verge Of Stardom Who Double As College Students

JUAN DIAZ-JULIO DIAZ

It wasn't the ultra-competitive fight I expected, but then it wasn't exactly unenjoyable, either. Juan Diaz' dominant performance Saturday night, which forced Julio Diaz' corner to throw in the towel in the ninth round, is mainly the reason it fell short in the competition department, and Juan also was the reason behind its enjoyability. This Juan Diaz -- he's really something, isn't he? I could watch him all day. His style might rightly be called "tornado-like," but he took it to near-literal levels when, as my friend Dave noted, he punched a complete circle around Julio at one point. Juan hit him a bunch, stepped to his left, then repeated until he'd come all the way around Julio. Juan's close proximity dulled Julio's power, because he just couldn't get the extension on his punches the way he needed. Juan's style -- reminiscent of this scene from Curb Your Enthusiasm -- is going to keep him from getting KO'd except for by all but the best power-punchers, guys who can knock a man out from an extremely short distance. We saw Kelly Pavlik do this to Edison Miranda, too. If a fighter can walk through the firestorm of a big puncher, it may be the best way, short of some fancy footwork, to defuse a bomb-thrower.

Julio may have fought the wrong fight by staying on the inside with Juan, but then, as Larry Merchant noted, he may not have had any choice. When Julio kept his distance a little, he did all right; that tactic put the fight in that rare category of "one-sided fight that's kind of competive." Only problem is, Juan would clobber Julio with eight punches in a row if Julio dared to hit him with three. MaxBoxing.com's Doug Fischer said Julio had the look of an overtrained or spent fighter. My eye's not good enough to tell. But Juan's punch volume, his head movement on the way in, his smart jab and his other attributes probably did as much to overwhelm Julio as anything else.

All in all, Juan Diaz impressed me more than Julio disappointed. Sure, Juan's a little chubby-looking. Sure, he doesn't hit all that hard. But what's it matter that he looks chubby if he can throw punches from morning to night? What's it matter if he doesn't hit that hard, if everyone he fights these days says, "I'm done, I quit. I don't want to fight this guy anymore tonight. It's too much of a pain in the ass?" Plus, I can't get enough of the college student storyline. Plus, he's likable as all get-out. After he won, he said, "I feel like King Kong!" How charming is that (even though it accidentally implies impending doom)? Young Diaz can be a breakout star under the right conditions. Make 'em happen, Don King.

Next for the winner: The three consensus options for Juan -- only 24 years old -- are fellow lightweight (135 lbs.) belt-holder David Diaz; lightweight Ring Magazine champ Joel Casamayor; and 130-pound sensation Manny Pacquiao. Pacquiao would mean the most money, so naturally that's who Juan was calling out Saturday after his win. But if I'm Pacquiao, I stay far away from Juan. Pacquiao's boxing skills have improved dramatically, but I don't think he has the slickness needed to outbox Juan, nor do I think he will carry enough of his power with the extra five pounds of weight he'd need to knock him clean out. Plus, I want Pacquiao to fight Juan Manuel Marquez. Casamayor, one of the most underrated fighters of our time, just might have the slickness necessary to outbox Juan, and we could settle all this business about whether Casamayor, as the so-called "linear" champ, or Juan, as the champ holding the most belts, is the best. I like this fight most, but Casamayor sounds like a bitch to negotiate with, so David Diaz is a good backup fight, assuming he doesn't end up in the ring with Pacquiao. Not much on the map, but a fight that would virtually guarantee non-stop excitement, is Juan vs. fellow all-action fighter Michael Katsidis. I'd take that one, too. Happily.
Next for the loser: Julio's already come back from three demoralizing losses, so I don't see why he can't come back from this one. I think he's going to have to take the route of all beaten champs -- get back in line, beat some contenders, look good doing it and before long he's up for another belt. Julio's likable, too, so I wish him the best.

















"The Baby Bull" may not be that intimidating a nickname for Juan Diaz, as the image of the child above makes clear. Nor does a reasonable description of Juan as "pudgy-looking college student" sound all that scary. But scatter, yon boxers. Juan will make your Saturday evening seriously unpleasant.

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.

Another Legend For The Beating; Welterweight Wish Fulfillment; Losing Faith Too Fast

• Preview. It is with tremendous remorse that I anticipate Erik Morales' career will be executed this weekend in one of the worst possible ways. I never much cared for Morales, who is something of an insufferable egomaniac, but I respected him. His trilogy with Marco Antonio Barrera is historically great. It was a blazing action three-pack from the two best Mexican fighters at the time who passionately hated one another and merged their resulting brawling impulses with their incredible skill levels. His trilogy with Manny Pacquiao was plenty great, too, a non-stop offensive show for every single round. Morales is a sure hall-of-famer who embodied the word "warrior." He never said no to a challenge and he always stood and fought his foe toe-to-toe. He did so even when outgunned, as he was against Pacquiao by their third meeting; despite all the wear and tear he'd endured in the ring, he decided to go down guns blazing and risk getting knocked out to make a desperation bid at flattening Manilla's favorite son. Yet every warrior must realize when he gets too old to battle younger men, or else face inglorious defeat. Morales is, in the horribly descriptive terminology of boxing, "shot." He's only won one of his last five fights. Not a good sign. He looked awful in one of them, his first fight at lightweight (135 lbs.). His second fight at that weight is coming up Saturday. Not a good sign. Even though he mounted a heroic rally against Pacquiao in their final war, when he went down for the last time, he shook his head and decided not to try to get up. Not a good sign, especially since something similar happened with Arturo Gatti, another warrior whose willpower failed him in his next to last fight; it proved an omen for his final fight, a pitiable slaughter at the hands of a borderline opponent. When willpower goes from a warrior, the end is near. The guy he's fighting Saturday, David Diaz, does not sound like the most dangerous opponent he could have picked, so I suppose that's a good sign. But I don't like the looks of this fight, especially going up against Rafael Marquez-Israel Vasquez II airing on Showtime the same night. I could watch two truly amazing Mexican fighters in their prime in a rematch of their special first meeting... or shield my eyes as one formerly great Mexican fighter gets splattered by a pretty good Mexican-American fighter, plus fork money over to HBO Pay-Per-View for the privilege. I think I'll watch Marquez-Vasquez and hope I read the next day about Morales having tapped some Fountain of Regeneration, but I predict a Diaz mid-round KO or TKO, and a sad one.

Better to remember Morales, at right, as he was, not as he will soon be. (from hbo.com)

• Random. So far, so good on the welterweights (147 lbs.) making the match-ups they should in a deep, deep division of superstars, unheralded talents and promising prospects. Floyd Mayweather, almost universally believed to be the best fighter around, has a deal in place for a December dance with Ricky Hatton, one of Great Britain's favorite all-time boxers and like Mayweather young and unbeaten. Mayweather is probably too unearthly-gifted for Hatton, but there's a chance Hatton, who crowds and wrestles his man into submission, could pose the difficult style challenge needed to press Mayweather. Still, when two of the best face one another, it is a thing to be praised. Even better, Puerto Rican battering ram Miguel Cotto and Shane Mosley, one of his generation's finest, are on track for a November collision. This one is too puzzling for me to call yet, but style-wise, it's a better version of Mayweather-Hatton: Cotto and Hatton both chop you down with body punches and attrition, but Cotto is less one-dimensional, whereas Mayweather and Mosley both rely on blinding speed, but Mosley is more hittable and harder-hitting. Meeting between the winners for divisional supremacy, anyone?

Something spooky about Cotto's deep-set, dark eyes. (from boxeo-boxing.com)

• Wrap-up. There seem to be two schools of thought about what happened to welterweight prospect Andre Berto over the weekend, when he was knocked down and nearly out before recovering to win a decision over Cosme Rivera. One, advanced here by The Sweet Science's Michael Woods, suggests that maybe Berto isn't all he's cracked up to be if he nearly catches some zzz's courtesy a fringe contender like Rivera. The other, advanced here by ESPN's Dan Rafael and elsewhere, suggests that Berto was stepping up to the biggest challenge of his career and when he ran into adversity, he overcame it and will learn from it. I'm inclined to give Berto the benefit of the doubt and side with Rafael et al, and not just because I like bandwagons. Berto is 23 and was bound to face trouble once he graduated from destroying mismatched fighters. Rivera has made a living of late schooling youngsters like Berto -- not long ago he put prospect Joel Julio on his ass before Julio recovered to win. Woods draws attention to important flaws in Berto, such as his short arms and previously untested jaw. And the business with Berto's glove technicalities requiring a lengthy time to fix smacks of his team trying to give their golden goose time to clear the cobwebs in his head. Woods may prove right in the long term about the need to lower expectations for Berto, but credit Berto for going through with his next fight against an even tougher divisional gatekeeper, David Estrada. Let's see what he does then before we diminish Berto much for his close encounter with the Land of Nod.

Andre Berto: The Land of Nod is a wonderfully zany comic book, but I recommend avoiding it as a place to visit. (from jaystephens.com)