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)

Boxing's Biggest Story

The welterweight division is now the biggest story in boxing, and its depth offers such a startling variety of intriguing match-ups that this one weight class -- by itself -- has the potential to push the fight game back into the public eye more consistently than in years. It is said, from time to time, that boxing is only as healthy as its heavyweight division, and that without dominant big men, boxing suffers. That's historically accurate, but only up to a point. After all, the welterweights captured the public's attention in the late 70s and 80s when the legendary likes of Sugar Ray Leonard, Thomas Hearns, Roberto Duran and others roamed the weight class, between 140-147 lbs.

The group currently battling there is probably the best since then. Forget their fight's one-time publicity injection one division higher at junior middleweight: Oscar De La Hoya's decision to return to welterweight and Floyd Mayweather's own return to the weight means boxing's two biggest stars now reside there for any number of fights that could seize the masses' attention. De La Hoya is a rock star who transcends boxing, although he does that pretty well, too; Mayweather is the hip-hop fighter, all flash and skill, his generation's most gifted practitioner. Just below them in the welterweight stratosphere are "Sugar" Shane Mosley, the big-name veteran who toppled De La Hoya twice with speed, power and guts yet nonetheless has never quite won the following he deserved, and Miguel Cotto, the fastest-rising celebrity in the sport who stalks and crushes his opponents with flagrant disregard for what kind of punishment he has to endure to do so. Near that same level is Ricky Hatton, Great Britain's national hero, a frenzied mauler who incites soccer-style chants and whose signature victory over hall of fame-bound Kostya Tszyu is considered by many Brits their country's greatest boxing victory ever. He might move up from the junior welterweight limit of 140 pounds to take on either Mayweather or De La Hoya. Scratching their way to the top are Paul Williams and Kermit Cintron, each of whom earned the adoration of hardcore fight fans in their recent wins -- Cintron with a nasty knockout, Williams with his breathtaking volume of punches, bravery and the coordination he exhibited despite being freakishly tall -- and could break through to the rest of the world with another marquee victory.

And that's just the top seven. From there, the division's borderline top-10 guys are a murderer's row. Antonio Margarito, hyped as the most feared man in boxing before his loss to Williams for thumping young contenders into tears or the hospital, is still dangerous. Zab Judah, despite his recent defeats, looked better than ever against Cotto, demonstrating the speed and power that made him such a sensational phenom before his struggles inside and outside the ring. Joshua Clottey, with his sturdy defense, rock-solid chin and diverse attack, is a tough night for anyone in the division. Luis Collazo, with his difficult counter-punching southpaw style, scared Hatton back down to 140, however briefly, in Hatton's first flirtation with the higher weight class. What's more, the division has potential stars in prospects Andre Berto (knockout artist), Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. (son of Mexico's all-time best) and Alfonso Gomez (contestant on the TV show The Contender). Even its dregs would be threats to take over if they switched to a neighboring division, guys like Carlos Quintana, David Estrada, Mark Suarez and Walter Matthysse. Then there are other boxers who could join the weight class soon or come back for a good money fight, such as veteran Ike Quartey, who tested a young De La Hoya like he had never been tested before, or Joel Julio, ESPN's 2005 prospect of the year. Now, let's make it pan out. When some of these same fellows and a few other greats lived at 140 pounds, any number of the best fights never happened. There's too much talent here to do anything but have all of them face off against each other.