Mayweather/Hatton: Keys To The Fight, Part I

HBO's Mayweather/Hatton 24/7 reality series is doing an amazing job of spotlighting the back story and personalities of both Floyd Mayweather and Ricky Hatton and their respective families, camps and assorted hangers-on. I recommend everyone -- boxing fans and non-boxing fans alike -- tune in Sunday, next Thursday and even hit HBO On-Demand for the previous two episodes. It's great television, artfully done.

What it's actually doing reasonably little of is focusing on the boxing itself. There are a few reasons I can imagine for this. They're clearly trying to lure the general public into buying this fight Dec. 8, and a technical analysis of who has the better left hook would siphon away some of the drama. Another reason, I suppose, is that hardcore fans know this fight could completely blow, so focusing on that aspect of it would make anyone watching ask, "Why should I pay $50 for this again?" It could be a fantastic battle, don't get me wrong. There's just a distinct possibility that it won't be.

So assuming the next two episodes won't delve into such matters, I'm taking it upon myself to try to educate any neophyte who wants to arrive for the show briefed about what will make the fight entertaining or not, a blowout for Mayweather or a real competition. More experienced fans can read this and hopefully find something enlightening, or just take it as a starting point for debate.

Part II, coming Monday, will look at all the tools both Mayweather and Hatton have that are important in every fight, no matter the gladiator: who's faster, who's stronger, etc. Part I, below, will focus on some of the things that are unique to this fight and these fighters.

How Mayweather chooses to fight. Mayweather is a strange avatar for the renaissance of boxing. No active fighter has the combination of physical gifts and ring intelligence that Mayweather possesses. As he's moved up in the weight classes to welterweight (147 lbs.), it's zapped some of his knockout power, but otherwise, Mayweather can do virtually anything he wants in the ring. Alas, his extraordinary defense and ability to hit his man more frequently than he gets hit means that should he choose to do so -- and, all too often, he has made this choice -- he can coast to an easy victory on the scorecards without ever putting himself in harm's way enough to create a lot of action or deliver a KO. It's not as if I don't understand the rationale, but it sometimes makes for boring viewing. On the flip side of the coin, any time Mayweather has made the decision to take risks, he has usually looked spectacular. It's a little like watching Kobe Bryant: an otherworldly athlete plying his craft at a high level and dominating all comers. Even when Mayweather has decided to amp up the offense by putting himself at a distance where his opponent can hit him, he has slaughtered his competition. That's because his reflexes and anticipation are so extraordinary he can stand inches from his opponent and block or dodge incoming punches without sweating. These one-sided affairs -- Mayweather hasn't even lost many rounds of his career when he's opted to take risks -- have been wildly viewable. What he did to Arturo Gatti in 2005 was about the most watchable shellacking imaginable. What he did to Diego Corrales in 2001 was a dream of both boxing purists and even some fans who only want to see knockouts. It's boils down to this: When Mayweather wants to win easy, he does, and fans are more likely to go to sleep than his opponent. When he wants to make it a little harder on himself, he at least creates the impression that his opponent has a chance, and he often wins by a far more aesthetically appealing landslide. Against Hatton, Mayweather has pledged to stand in front of him and trade blows, but we've heard that from Mayweather before only to be left wanting. Yet, given his advantages over Hatton, I see no reason he couldn't take the latter approach and still win.

How Hatton choses to fight. Hatton, too, has alternated between being fun to watch and being abysmal. When he's at his best -- as he was in 2005, when he was the Ring Magazine fighter of the year for conquering Kostya Tszyu and Carlos Maussa -- he's all out energy and commotion. Even the best version of Hatton is a little too prone to wrestling and fouling, but it's better than the lesser version of Hatton, the one who throws one punch, then grabs and holds his opponent so he doesn't get hit. Anyone who could watch his "hook and hold" approach to scoring a clear victory in the eyes of the judges this year over Juan Urango is a far more patient and tolerant boxing fan than I. If there's good news here, it's that in his biggest fights, Hatton has usually put on his most entertaining displays. When Hatton beat Jose Luis Castillo in May, he was plenty watchable. Hatton seems to take some pride in pleasing fans, so I would expect Hatton will try to put on a good show. Mayweather, by contrast, performed on the biggest stage of his career against Oscar De La Hoya this year and showed little interest in looking good doing it, perhaps because De La Hoya was significantly bigger than him and he wanted to minimize the chance of getting knocked out. I'm not sure which version of Hatton stands a better chance of actually beating Mayweather, though.

The referee. Yes, that's right, the referee. Hatton has benefited frequently from permissive referees who let him foul, wrestle and generally maul has opponent in ways that aren't quite legal. It's legal to hold, for example; it's not legal to hold excessively, as Hatton often has. A referee who cracks down on some of Hatton's antics will multiply Mayweather's chances of winning and take away a significant chunk of Hatton's. Getting held and pushed around saps a fighter's energy. Getting hit below the belt does the same. With speedy, light on their feet types like Mayweather, the best hope of victory is to drain them of the energy they need for optimal movement, making them more hittable. Ideally, the referee won't err too far in either direction -- letting Hatton get away with too much, or implementing a zero tolerance policy. Letting Hatton run free would taint the fight with too much foul play. Getting fascist about it would rob Hatton of opportunities to win, and unfairly swing the fight too far in Mayweather's direction.

Mayweather's conditioning and brittle hands. Mayweather, in addition to his stratospheric talent, has shown a devotion to preparation that has him training into all hours of the evening. He stays at around his fight weight year-round, a rare trait for any fighter, which means he never has to be worried about shedding pounds quickly, which can be draining come fight night. But Mayweather is coming off a run on the TV show "Dancing With The Stars," which every past participant has said requires hard work that was intense beyond what they could imagine. Mayweather already trains so intensely that the combination of the show and training camp could leave him "overtrained," which also tends to leave fighters with a deficit of energy come fight night. This probably is a minimal worry, but it's something to consider. More worrying is Mayweather's tendency to break or otherwise injure his hands during fights. When he has suffered such an injury, he usually goes into "win easy" mode. That hand injury tendency has never put him in much jeopardy before, but against a world class fighter -- and lest we forget, that's what Hatton is -- it could be dangerous.

Hatton's conditioning and tendency to get cut. Hatton is on the extreme opposite end of the ledger when it comes to between-fight discipline. He often swells up some 40 lbs. in weight when he's not preparing for his next payday, leading to a lot of self-deprecating "Ricky Fatton" jokes. In the ring, this habit has resulted in some problems. For instance: Fighters who have to lose major weight between fights tend not to take body punches very well. Against Urango this year, Hatton was doing some pretty work in the ring early, at least until Urango nailed him with a major body shot that clearly hurt him. To win, Hatton felt compelled after that to go into "hook and hold" mode. Mayweather isn't a slouch when it comes to body punching. Despite his weight issues, Hatton has shown a knack for getting stronger as the fight goes on, which is a pretty remarkable tribute to his own training regimen. Punches to the face present a whole different dilemma for Hatton. Early in his career, particularly, Hatton suffered any number of cuts. A bad enough gash will lead a referee to stop the fight, and, given the rules of boxing on the result of such a stoppage, depending on what round he stops it in and whether the cut is the result of a punch as opposed to a head butt or elbow, a cut Hatton could equal a defeated Hatton. Not long ago, Hatton had some plastic surgery that reduced his tendency to cut, but this could become a factor again.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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)

Praise Be Low Expectations

HBO this weekend re-aired the light heavyweight title fight between ancient, savvy, mostly-boring veterans Bernard Hopkins and Winky Wright, pairing it with a junior middleweight bout pitting aging, damaged Vernon Forrest against slow-footed, light-hitting Carlos Baldomir. Both exceeded my exceptionally low expectations, although Forrest-Baldomir was legitimately exciting and Hopkins-Wright was better than horrible, maybe even better than mediocre.

HOPKINS-WRIGHT

I contend that Hopkins won the fight, albeit not by much, using guile, excellent foot movement for a 42-year-old, size, harder punching and a head butt. Wright landed more punches in most of the rounds, but mostly his patented jab. When one guy hits harder than the other guy, and the other guy mostly jabs, my feeling is that the jabber better land a ton more jabs than the power puncher lands power punches. Granted, Wright's jab is a nastier jab than most -- whereas most boxers use the jab to establish distance, throw an opponent off-rhythm or set up another punch, it is Winky's main weapon. It's just that Hopkins landed plenty of big shots, enough to overcome what Wright was dishing out.

This might have been a significantly better fight if not for Hopkins' excessive clinching, unpunished by the referee. Again, no one should ever be surprised that Hopkins, an ex-con who prides himself in the skills he learned surviving on the street, would win ugly by breaking the rules. Hopkins tied up Wright after every series of punches he landed, making it difficult for Winky to establish his jab quite as well, a tactic Hopkins enhanced with tricky footwork. That said, it certainly would have moved from better-than-mediocre all the way to good had Hopkins opted to fight straight up. He probably still would have won, making the dynamic all the more lamentable.

Next for the winner: Having conquered the light heavyweight division (169-175 lbs.), Hopkins is now looking to take on the king of a lower weight class, super middleweight (161-168 lbs.) champ Joe Calzaghe. I don't know who I would pick to win that fight. Whenever I have sided against Hopkins, he has won. Whenever I have sided against Great Britain's Calzaghe, he has won. Calzaghe is faster and more powerful than Wright and throws awkward-angled combinations in bunches, but Hopkins has an answer for most everyone. The catch is that Calzaghe first has to get by Mikkel Kessler, a Dane of tremendous skill, in what could be a fight of the year candidate. That means Hopkins will be waiting a while and the fight's buzz could fizzle if Calzaghe is defeated. That would leave Hopkins with few options, since match-ups with some younger bulls like Chad Dawson would not capture enough public attention for Hopkins at this stage in his career. Kudos to him, though, if he's willing to take such fights.
Next for the loser: Wright wants De La Hoya, but who doesn't? And De La Hoya wants little part of a fighter who has a tendency to make his opponent look bad, win or lose. Wright's style is so difficult that you don't get to land many punches against him and he can really embarrass you with his jab. I don't see many big-name options for Wright left, so the choice seems between retirement or bouts with second-tier veterans like the below-mentioned Vernon Forrest or a dangerous younger fighter like Kelly Pavlik.

FORREST-BALDOMIR

This, clearly, was the Vernon Forrest who upset Shane Mosley a few years ago, the one who stung Sugar with a rangy jab and hard, fast combinations as he danced and managed his distance perfectly on the way to becoming Ring magazine's fighter of the year. It was not the Vernon Forrest who last year slung an injured arm at Ike Quartey in such a manner as to somehow convince the judges he won their fight, although the lusty boos at the decision betrayed their error. I prefer the first version of Vernon Forrest, a.k.a. the new version of Vernon Forrest, the one who fought brilliantly on his way to an in-reality convincing victory over the hard-nosed and hard-headed Carlos Baldomir.

Baldomir's noggin must be made of adamantium. He took one knockout punch after another and never stopped coming after the man delivering them. I figure he won three or four rounds on sheer willpower. He might have knocked out Forrest in the ninth round, but for Forrest's seemingly intentional low blow to bail himself out, the only tarnish on what was a rousing slugfest between two courageous combatants.

Next for the winner: Dominion over the barren wasteland that is the junior middleweight division (148-154 lbs.) or a risky move up to the more target-rich middleweight ranks (155-160 lbs.). The biggest name at junior middleweight is Cory Spinks, a draw in his hometown of St. Louis but not much anywhere else, owing to his feathery fists and concentration on defense. I wouldn't mind seeing them fight, I suppose, if only because they're probably the two best in their division and a St. Louis fight would give Forrest a shot at making some cash. A better style matchup -- one that I think would be a cracking good scrap -- would be with Kassim Ouma, once the diminutive non-stop puncher realizes he shouldn't be fighting at middleweight and returns to his more natural division. Forrest wants to avenge his two losses to Ricardo Mayorga, but the Mayorga who beat Forrest has since been ravaged by Felix Trinidad and Oscar De La Hoya and is clearly worse for the wear, so I'm not sure what that would prove.
Next for the loser: Retirement, it looks like, according to Baldomir himself. Sure, he could get a few more good fights and maybe even win a title at junior middleweight. I would watch him again, gladly. But there's not anyone he could make much money fighting in the division besides Forrest, and he's accomplished plenty in the last year and a half. He knocked off Zab Judah in 2006's upset of the year, becoming the recognized welterweight (141-147 lbs.) champion, not some random belt-holder. He then upset boxing folk hero Arturo Gatti. Despite getting blown out completely, he earned the respect of Floyd Mayweather, Jr. in their bout, not an easy thing to earn from a guy who is contemptuous of pretty much everyone he battles. And he just pushed a rejuvenated Forrest to the brink of defeat in a nice action fight. Baldomir went from mop salesman in the streets of Argentina to millionaire and national icon in Argentina. Who could ask for more?

Giving The Devil His Due And Two Other Thoughts

• Wrap-up. I'll comment more once I (reluctantly) view the fight on replay, but all accounts suggest Bernard Hopkins-Winky Wright was slightly better than the worst big fight of all time, as I feared it might be. Some are discounting Hopkins' win, arguing that Hopkins essentially defeated a smaller guy, and not very convincingly, who was moving from the middleweight limit of 160 lbs. to fight Hopkins at 170 lbs, thereby proving nothing. True, true, in part. But let's not forget who this little guy is: One of the most flummoxing, avoided defensive fighters of the last couple decades. Humiliator of all-time greats Shane Mosley and Tito Trinidad, and on some scorecards, conqueror of fan favorite Fernando Vargas and Jermain Taylor, the latter being the one who dethroned Hopkins' long middleweight reign. A man who hasn't been beaten in more than seven years. Pound for pound, no worse than the third best active fighter around on most unofficial lists. And a hall-of-famer. Yes, I'd rather endure waterboarding than watch Hopkins in action. But I don't know how this doesn't rise to the level of a significant accomplishment by a 42-year-old man. That he did this in part with a -- perhaps -- intentional headbutt is not surprising; the essence of Hopkins is that he finds a way. It doesn't make me like him any more, but how he did it matters less than that he did.
• Preview. In its beneficence, HBO has deigned to broadcast the Wright-Hopkins replay with another event that no one asked for, Carlos Baldomir versus Vernon Forrest, live. There's a lot to like about Baldomir, no relation to anyone from Middle Earth. He used to sell mops in the streets of Argentina to get by, and as a massive underdog, he upset Zab Judah, along the way nearly knocking him out and making him do that hilarious little dance he does when he gets staggered by a good punch... the one that resembles a puppet getting its strings entangled. And Forrest is praised for his devotion to charity work. But Baldomir is not the world's most exciting fighter -- he's an all-out plodder with little knockout power. And Forrest looks like he has never recovered from the shoulder problems that sidelined him for so long. I'm going to pick Baldomir to out-hustle Forrest on the way to a decision, although I could see Forrest keeping his distance and out-boxing him from the perimeter.
• Update. My pick accuracy is abysmal so far, such that readers might not know of my amazing precognitive powers in predicting things like, for example, Ricky Hatton easily defeating a shot Jose Luis Castillo recently in anything but a candidate for fight of the year, as it was hyped. However, I've synced nicely at times with far more experienced boxing writers. Just today, MaxBoxing's Doug Fischer wrote, in response to a reader's description of Hopkins that was a near-carbon copy of mine, "Regarding Hopkins, I think this line sums it up best: "Now, all Bernard can do is make just enough contact to win rounds, and enough rounds to win a fight." Last week, the New York Post's George Willis, hot now off his NBA referee scandal scoop, noted that Paul Williams would have a rougher time with Miguel Cotto than he did Antonio Margarito, for the same reasons I cited -- although many writers believe everyone will avoid Williams now. Unless Margarito gets a rematch with Williams or the Cotto fight he would have earned by beating Williams, it looks like I'll be in good company with Yahoo's Kevin Iole, formerly of the Las Vegas Review-Journal and one of the better-regarded boxing writers around, who wrote, "He couldn't get the big names in the ring when he had a world title, and he's certainly not going to get them now." Williams' championship heart, one of my central points in the post-fight wrap-up, got headline status the Orange County Register: "Williams shows plenty of heart." ESPN's Dan Rafael remarked, as I did, that Alfonso Gomez scrapping with Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. would make some decent dough. Most every expert would like to see Williams rumble with Kermit Cintron, if neither can get a bigger fight. And while I was off in my predictions, I've proven astute in explaining the reasons why I might end up wrong. Williams' fresher legs against Margarito, Arturo Gatti's size deficit against Gomez and Wright moving up in weight too swiftly to take on Hopkins all were major factors in the outcome of their respective bouts.

Carlos Baldomir has an, um, remarkable get-up that he wears into the ring... Oh, wait. that's Boromir from Lord of the Rings. (From canmag.com)























If you look closely, you can see Vernon Forrest hiding in the... Ahh, I now see the mistake I made here with this one. (From desktopscenes.com)

A Gatti-Inspired, Broken Hand Boxing Blog

As I write this, my finger is in a splint. OK, the title is a bit misleading, but as my pinky nearly turned into a pretzel earlier today when it was dislocated and fractured, I figured I could pay no greater tribute to the day of Arturo Gatti's retirement than to soldier on the way he did so many times: broken bones and all. (wink)

MARGARITO-WILLIAMS

Squirm, Margarito fanboys.

As good as Cotto-Judah was, this was a hell of a good fight that was more competitive than the prohibitive favorite for fight of the year. I'm not ready to nominate it -- Pavlik-Miranda and Marquez-Barrera are right up there, too, for me -- but it's definitely a contender. So many drama points. It featured unexpected dominance early from Williams; a fierce charge by Margarito in the second half; several pyrotechnic exchanges throughout; and a moment of truth for the new champion, the freshly-crowned Williams.

Margarito nearly won the fight on sheer ferocity in round 11. Williams was hampered by an unfair warning that he'd lose a point if he clinched again, so he had little choice but to take a beating. That he won the 12th after that was the most impressive moment of the fight for him -- sure, he looked great for the first six rounds, but we found out in the 12th that Williams has championship-level heart. Big fight. Big moment. The 6'1" (seemingly much taller) Williams came up big, which kind of makes sense, doesn't it?

I have to think nine out of 10 people who watched that fight would call it for Williams. It was a brave showing by Margarito, but he was too slow and Williams was too quick, too fresh and punched way too much -- 1,256 times! -- for the Tijuana Tornado. If Margarito's slavish devotees don't concede his defeat, they are charlatans several times over.

Next for the winner: I want Williams to get his wish -- A matchup with Cotto. After all, if Margarito was lined up to fight him conditional on a win, why doesn't Williams get to replace Margarito? As good as Williams looked tonight, I'd pick Cotto in a barnburner. Cotto is in his prime, unlike the seemingly aging Margarito, and has better fundamentals.
Next for the loser: Despite his respectable showing, it seems to me Margarito has to reestablish himself at an advanced age to get back into the upper eschelon of the welterweight division. Sounds daunting, especially since Margarito was ducked even when he had a belt. If he takes on another top 10 contender -- Luis Collazo, maybe, in a rare style matchup of pressure fighter vs. gifted counterpuncher? -- and wins convincingly, I don't see why he wouldn't have earned it. But this may be a big career setback unless he gets the Cotto fight anyway and wins it.


GATTI-GOMEZ

This was sad.

Gatti got beat up. He looked real, real slow. Too many wars and the weight limbo he aptly self-diagnosed -- too old to make his body squeeze into 140 pounds, too small to be powerful and absorb the punches of bigger men -- did him in. All his punches seemed short even when he connected, like he thought Gomez was a foot closer. He would have had a way better chance against the ghost man he seemed to be aiming at.

Gomez performed better than I expected, and my hunch about the size differential made a huge impact. But this was about Gatti not having anything left.

Next for the winner: What's good for Williams is what's good for Gomez. Gatti was going to take on Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. if he won, and Gomez wants it. We'd find out yet more about what both those fighters have, if so, and it would be good for the sport in a minor way because it would pit a popular TV fighter against the son of a legend, potentially drawing in a handful of non-traditional or lapsed fans.
Next for the loser: My hope -- A fat cigar. A cruise where he reflects upon a grand career. A long, happy life, the kind where people see him on the street and want to hug him instead of getting his autograph. Good night, Mr. Gatti. Boxing will long remember you.

CINTRON-MATTHYSSE

What a knockout. You just don't find many punchers like Cintron these days. Williams TKOed Matthysse in 10; Cintron obliterated him in two. Despite the excellent action in round 1, the fight should've ended after the second knockdown, when Matthysse's legs were wobbly. It would've saved him from getting nearly decapitated by an uppercut, then getting his head crunched to a 45-degree angle by the next punch, which devastated him.

Cintron deserves to move into the top of the welterweight ranks with this win. The Margarito humiliation looks very distant now.

Next for the winner: Why not solve this boxing-UFC thing once and for all? Cintron, with his background as a collegiate wrestler and a willingness to get into the octagon, has a better shot than any boxer at defying the obvious -- a boxer in boxing rules wins against a mixed martial arts fighter, an MMA fighter beats a boxer in MMA rules. I admit I want this to happen because Cintron's strategic advantage would help boxing defeat this inferior sport. If not, I say give him Sugar Shane Mosley. Mosley-Mayweather would be better, but Mayweather's eyeing Ricky Hatton. Mosley backs down from no one, so I bet he'd do it. And if Cotto doesn't end up fighting Williams or Mosley, Cintron-Williams has the potential to be sensational.
Next for the loser: As Monty Python once observed, the key to not being seen is to not stand up. Likewise, the key to not being brutally knocked out is, when you're nearly unconscious, don't stand up. Cheers for the guts, but ouch for the brain. I'd find a better trainer, one who would've thrown the towel in sooner, and maybe one to sand down Matthysse's rough edges. He's got power, an untrainable commodity. For a model of what finding an excellent trainer will do for a power puncher, may I recommend... Kermit Cintron?

A Guy Named Kermit; A Freak; An Ear-Ripper; And A Human Highlight Reel

Coming up Saturday is a triple-header in boxing's most talent-rich division, the welterweights.

Anywhere from one to three of them are going to be good.

--The one with the most potential features the man billed as the most avoided in boxing: Antonio Margarito. He's often compared to Marvin Hagler -- a fighter who is as tough as they come, who puts relentless pressure on you and will make your life a living hell as long as you are still standing, but hasn't gotten a chance to make it to the big stage because people are scared half to death of him. My personal belief is that he's not as big a badass as everyone makes him out to be -- he's a bit slow, has questionable technique, seems to have an occasionally vulnerable chin, is getting old and nearly lost his last fight -- but I can tell you why I wouldn't want to fight him in an anecdote that is not for the faint of heart... In a bout a few years ago that I recently saw on ESPN Classic, he was doing what he does best. That is, indulge in competitive fights where for the first few rounds he looks like he may lose, then start destroying his opponent with pressure, volume, strength and reach. Ever heard the phrase "he boxed his ears off?" Well, Margarito did that. Literally. In as gross a thing as you will ever see in the ring, he hit his opponent with such vicious, ripping punches that his ear began to tear off. The fight was stopped and the opponent was taken to the emergency room, where, I'm happy to say, his ear was sewn back on and he's in fine health today.

His opponent on the 14th is a guy who has all the tools to become a star, albeit a freakish one: Paul Williams. When I say "freakish," I mean freakish. He fights at welterweight, 147 lbs, but stands 6'1" and has -- get this -- an 82-inch reach. That, my friends, is longer than Muhammad Ali, who fought around 50 lbs. heavier. Since Williams looks like a beanpole, you'd never think he'd hit hard, but oh, he does. He is, in many ways, very much like Margarito -- a powerful, tall welterweight who punches non-stop and would rather brawl than keep his opponent at a distance. Williams is faster, younger and seems to have a lot of advantages, but Margarito has a huge experience edge and his toughness is a proven commodity. Williams has fought some good fighters, but nobody like what Margarito is going to bring him. This fight could be excellent and the winner likely gets to take on Miguel Cotto, who recently defeated Zab Judah in the consensus fight of the year so far. A number of experts think the Margarito-Williams match up has a chance to surpass it.

MY PREDICTION: Margarito by TKO, late rounds. He's just too tough and just too experienced for the very green, sometimes-awkward Williams, and I'm guessing Margarito grinds down the beanpole the same way he has just about everyone.
CONFIDENCE: 70%. Margarito looked all-too-beatable against Josh Clottey before Clottey broke his hand. Williams punches harder than Clottey, plus he's younger and faster. This would not be a big upset at all.
MY ALLEGIANCE: Williams. Margarito's crude, wide-punching style, plus the misplaced near-worship of him over at MaxBoxing.com, makes me want to see him get knocked down a notch.














Margarito crushes Cintron. Thank me for not showing you that ear-rip picture.















Guess which one is Williams.

--In another fight, Kermit Cintron takes on Walter Matthysse. Kermit, despite having a silly name, is one of the hardest punchers in boxing. A few years ago, in his big step up toward a belt and superstardom, none other than Margarito totally wrecked him. In fact, Cintron broke down in tears. Since, Cintron has righted his ship in part by hiring Emmanuel Steward, boxing's most accomplished active trainer, and has gone on to win a couple sizzling action bouts that were quite competitive. Matthysse, meanwhile, not that long ago met Paul Williams in a fight that was a huge step up for both, who were considered good, undefeated prospects but not contenders yet. Although Williams won, Matthysse gave him everything he could handle, and the unpolished, gritty Matthysse's status didn't drop much in esteem. This is Matthysse's chance to put himself in the welterweight rankings, and Cintron's biggest stage since the ruinous Margarito loss.

MY PREDICTION: Kermit by mid-round KO. I think Kermit's a better overall fighter than Williams, who KOed Matthysse in the 10th.
CONFIDENCE: 90%. Matthysse's KO percentage is impressive, and Kermit got wobbled a few times in the amazing Estrada fight. Matthysse is not some no-hope underdog, I just don't see anyone this unskilled beating Kermit.
MY ALLEGIANCE: Isn't it obvious? I'm rooting for the guy named Kermit. It helps that he's an exciting fighter.


























Front of face, Cintron: See above, distorted by Margarito. I wish he'd go back to this "nationalistic flavored sno-cone" look.
















Guess which one's Matthysse. (Hint: He's not Williams.)

--Also, Arturo Gatti battles Alfonso Gomez. I really wish Gatti would hang up the gloves. He's been in more ring wars than anyone, and his skills seem in decline. That aside, Gatti (aka "the human highlight reel") has never, ever, ever been in anything but the best fights. He's one of boxing's biggest attractions, and Atlantic City, where he's an adopted son, will be electric when it sees him again. If you've never seen Gatti-Ward I, do yourself a favor and check it out. It is certifiably one of the greatest fights of all time, and Gatti-Ward II and III round it out as one of the greatest fight trilogies of all time, maybe ever. I don't pretend to know much about Gomez; he was on "The Contender" TV show, and he was apparently liked, and he looked OK in the clips I saw, but this is a fight that gives Gatti a chance to show if he has anything left. He's lost a couple bouts lately where he got the tar beat out of him. If there's anyone who deserves a chance to keep fighting when it looks like he ought to quit, it's Gatti, since Arturo has fought entire fights with broken hands; come back from being knocked down and nearly out to win by KO in the same round; and so on.

MY PREDICTION: Gatti by decision. Gomez is stepping up big-time. My guess is Gatti's still got enough in the tank to pull this off in a potentially entertaining slugfest.
CONFIDENCE: 80%. Gatti's a small welterweight, and Gomez has been fighting in higher weight divisions. Says here that the guy who beat Gatti last was a big welterweight who couldn't punch very hard but still destroyed Arturo. What'll he do with an even bigger guy who doesn't punch very hard? I've not seen this remarked upon anywhere.
MY ALLEGIANCE: I can't possibly oppose Gatti, so I'll be cheering him. But in a way, I hope he loses albeit without suffering much. If he can't beat Gomez, surely even he has to know his amazing career is over.












Gatti's sweeping the right hook here in a fight against Ward which looked more like those crazy simultaneous punchfests from Rocky than anything that's ever happened in real life. If you zoom in, you can see all the scar tissue around his eyes.























Gomez, straight from "The Contender" website. Probably taken during some heart-warming moment or the other, plus they likely put a microphone on the camera so you could hear an extra-loud "click."