Boxing All Over The World

Good news for Canada. Lucien Bute just won a title fight this past weekend, making him the second Canuck to strap a belt around his waist in 2007. Until ESPN's Dan Rafael reminded me
that Joachim Alcine -- another native son from maple leaf country -- had also won a title belt this year, I can't say I'd spent much time thinking about Canadian boxers. Oh, in the back of my mind, I understood that Arturo Gatti was a Canadian. But in reality, he was an adopted Atlantic City-ian, because that's where he had a cult-like following, where he was treated like a rock star who belonged to the people of A.C. But suddenly I found myself pondering the boxing tradition of a country where the word "fight" is more commonly associated with hockey.

From there, my mind wandered. I recalled a piece written in August on MaxBoxing.com called "Thank God for Mexican Fighters." And about how Great Britain is undergoing its own sort of boxing renaissance. And a few other countries whose boxers were on the rise.

And then I thought about the big picture. In boxing, more than any other sport I've ever followed, where an athlete is from matters tremendously. It is not, in my experience, a negative force. At least not now. It could be, and has been. Jingoism tends not to infect combat between athletes from other countries, as counterintuitive as it sounds. More often than not, showdowns between cherished fighters from rival countries have been cathartic events that ease tensions instead of build them. When Mexican fighters meet between the ropes with Puerto Rican fighters, there's a palpable sizzle, but I'm not aware of any outward nastiness between the people of Mexico and Puerto Rico -- the two areas just have a rich boxing tradition, steeped in machismo, that make fights between their boxers magic. Sometimes such meetings take on a greater meaning, most famously when Joe Louis and Max Schmeling did battle amid rising tensions between Germany and the United States. Nothing before or since matched that for global implications, but today, when two fervent fan bases from different parts of the world gather to cheer on their gladiators, it's electric -- I envy anyone who was ringside when Mexican legend Erik Morales and Filipino hero Manny Pacquiao fought for a third time. One writer said it felt like having his head stuck in a jet engine.

But I can't say my mind wandered much farther than feeling like this would be a good topic to explore. Maybe in reality it's more a good topic to explore on an individual basis, to be delved into in pieces elsewhere, perhaps as I move into the interview-people-instead-of-just-spouting-off phase of my modest fight game writing hobby.

That makes the below list of countries or regions and the status of the fighters who hail from there, plus the characteristics and traditions each possess, little more than a sketchpad. For those who don't follow boxing regularly, it could offer an education. And if anyone wants to offer their own thoughts about the countries I mentioned and the ones I should've included, please do, along with any deeper insights about the link between national identity and the sweet science. You'd be doing me a favor.

A disclaimer because I could be meandering into dangerous territory: No one country can be stereotyped as having one kind of boxer. Nor do I, personally, have hostility toward any particular country. Where I've listed criticisms, they are usually the criticisms of others, not reflective of my own point of view.

America
Why not start at home? No country is more neurotic about its place in the boxing world. That no American stands atop the heavyweight heap is a source of considerable anxiety for the United States, so much so that it's among the most commonly cited reason people give me when they explain that they don't follow boxing these days. It's true that the rich contracts of the NFL and NBA have robbed American boxing of its once-dominant heavyweight talent base, and in a country where bigger is better, being the best at being big matters here.

But if Americans could just look a little lower, they'd see that there's a considerable source of pride in our boxing ranks. It's admittedly easier for me since I became a fan in an era when American heavyweights have always been peripheral figures in the land of giants. But if we could set that aside, we could peruse Ring Magazine's pound-for-pound top 10 list of the best fighters around regardless of weight class and notice two things: 1., there are no heavyweights from any country there, and 2., there are more fighters from the the United States and Mexico -- three each -- than anywhere else. In other words, the heavyweights just aren't that important anymore anywhere, and America is still pretty good at being the best.

America's Floyd Mayweather, Jr. is the best there is to the Bible of Boxing. Bernard Hopkins is Ring's fourth best. Winky Wright is sixth. Other lists -- and of course pound-for-pound is a subjective measurement -- might squeak Kelly Pavlik up there, or move Mayweather, Hopkins and Wright into different slots. But the fact remains, these are some good fighters.

The Mayweather-Hopkins-Wright trinity has something in common -- they're all slick guys, heavily-skilled and smart as all get-out. That, more than anything, seems to be the characteristic of the best American fighters these days. Their tight defense and abundance of caution can make them a little boring at times, sure. But Chad Dawson is in that tradition, and he's not boring at all, nor is Shane Mosley. And we have our share of sluggers -- see the aforementioned Pavlik, plus Jeff Lacy, Andre Berto and Juan Diaz, for starters.

And yes, I'm claiming Diaz as our own because he's from America, even though his heritage is Mexican. Interestingly, that leads into the next country. That Mexican-American Oscar De La Hoya -- a native of the United States and the sport's biggest superstar, indicator yet again that American boxing is in fine shape -- never "fought like a Mexican" has been a knock on him with that very big constituency south of the border for years. Among his characteristics? Slickness, and, yes, sometimes, caution.

Mexico
I really don't mind saying it: Mexicans have been among the best and most entertaining fighters since I started following pugilism. Nearly every one of them are tremendous boxer-punchers, terrors who have ample skill -- foot movement, counter-punching, all the tricks -- but just as often decide to practice what legendary boxing writer Budd Schulberg calls "the manly art of no defense," usually when someone knocks the chip off their shoulder and they want to brawl about it.

Yet, with the retirement this year of legendary rivals Marco Antonio Barrera and Erik Morales, both of whom have seen a decline in their abilities, I get the sense that Mexican boxing is moving on a slight downward slope. Yes, three of their own -- Israel Vasquez and the brothers Marquez, Rafael and Juan Manuel -- hold a place on Ring's pound-for-pound list. But while Juan Manuel is well-preserved, he's older than either Barrera or Morales, so the end of the road is not far off. Vasquez and Rafael have trended toward career-sapping wars, twice against each other this year and once more ahead in March, that they, too, may not last much longer. Jose Luis Castillo, he of the greatest fight of all time versus Diego Corrales, is still around, but a shell of his former self. Castillo is a literal link to the previous generation of Mexican fighters, serving as he did for so long as a sparring partner to Julio Cesar Chavez, the reason many of this generation of fighters, and even some from the one getting long in the tooth, fight at all.

There will, no doubt, be another generation of Mexican fighters on the way. Perhaps no boxing fans are more passionate than those who hail from Mexico, and inevitably among their ranks are those dreaming of becoming the next Marco Antonio Barrera or Erik Morales. But as the Barreras and Marquezes of the world fade away, budding talents or fan favorites like Jorge Arce, Fernando Montiel, Cristian Mijares and Daniel Ponce Deleon may have to prop up Mexican boxing until then.

The Philippines
The Philippines have to be considered one of the top two or three countries whose boxers are on the rise. Perhaps they've drawn their strength from siphoning it from Mexico. At times, they've done so directly. Manny Pacquiao, the most beloved person alive in the Philippines, has propped himself up on the scalps of legendary Mexicans, forcing Barrera into retirmenet and destroying Morales. In between, the "Pacman" has beaten enough other Mexicans to have earned the secondary nickname of "Republica Enemy No. 1." Meanwhile, Gerry Penalosa took a belt from Mexican Jhonny Gonzalez this year, not long after losing a decision that most thought he won against Deleon.

That Penalosa and Pacquiao took similar paths to glory in recent years is likewise fittingly symmetrical, since Penalosa was sort of the avatar of Filipino boxing who blazed the path for Pacquiao to make a name for Pinoy fighters. Penalosa may be getting old, but Pacquiao -- probably the second best fighter in the world, regardless of weight class -- and a bevy of other Filipino boxers are making their country as "now" as can be. Nonito Donaire scored what I considered to be the knockout of the year when he blasted Vic Darchinyan with a shot that proved boxing's little men -- even the 112-pounders -- have done away with the myth that there is no power in the lower ranks. Donaire won a title along the way. There are a handful of other Filipino fighters who are on their way up, and even the stray loss by Filipino boxer Rey Bautista to Deleon in a card this year pitting boxers from Mexico against their Pinoy counterparts doesn't diminish their accomplishments this year. The 21-year-old Bautista was way too green to be in against a murderous puncher like Deleon, and Rey will probably only get better.

Filipino fighters live by the mantra that speed kills. A guy named Flash Elorde is one of their most celebrated fighters ever, if that tells you anything. That they often have some serious power, and the balls to stand on the inside to try and outlast their opponents with their quickness and fists of dynamite, makes them awfully dangerous. Just ask Darchinyan.

Great Britain
Stereotypically home to both ruffians and gentle tea-sippers, England has fighters who exhibit characteristics of both, often all at once. And like the Phillippines, they're in the elite of countries enjoying life climbing way up to the top of boxing these days.

Joe Calzaghe is the current longest-running titlist in all of boxing. Ricky Hatton has an enormous following in part because of a run that began in 2005 when he was named Ring's "fighter of the year" after securing what some consider the greatest victory by a British boxer ever, over Kostya Tsyzu. Both draw on a core reactor in their chests that give them energy reserves that make it look like they could fight for a full week straight; forget an hour or so. They differ slightly, sure -- Calzaghe throws tons of fast punches, Hatton never stops hitting and mauling his man. All three are likable, genial chaps, particularly Hatton, who more than any boxer gives off an air that makes you think you'd really like to be one of his drinking buddies. You can even almost hear Calzaghe's Wales accent in the recent invitation of Pavlik to attend his upcoming fight, as if it was all designed to help hype some potential friendly "fisticuffs" between Calzaghe and Pavlik one day in the future, not an invitation for Pavlik to get his face bashed in.

Throw in the exciting David Haye, who does not fit so snugly into the mode of his fellow "now" British sweet science stars, along with Junior Witter and Clinton Woods, and things are mighty pretty for the boxing Brits.

Strangely, not that long ago, Great Britain produced one of its finest champions ever in Lennox Lewis. But hardly anyone looked at that as much like a big deal. First, Lewis was never terribly popular, owing somewhat to his style -- tending toward caution -- and the fact that his background of having lived elsewhere first made him less celebrated in Great Britain than he might otherwise have been. It's a shame, but either way, England now has fighters who are eminently British, and fun to watch to boot.

Russia
Hulking products of the Soviet boxing system completely rule the heavyweight division. They inhabit six of the top seven slots in the Ring rankings. Yes, a number of them actually live in America, and some of them hail from former Soviet Union countries, but we're essentially talking about Russia here. Throw in the Ukraine and they have seven of the top 10 slots, and throw in the oft-injured/recently-unretired brother of the best heavyweight, Vladimir Klitschko, and maybe they take eight of the top 10.

Most Russian fighters are a little stiff and robotic, but they hit really, really hard, so they manage. Think Ivan Drago "getting his punch pressure measured by a computer" hard. That hard. And yes, they've been dogged by allegations of steroid use. The aforementioned Klitschko brother, Vitali, has admitted as much, saying he used them as an amateur in 1996, although he's tested clean as a pro. That said, some of the best Russian heavyweights have mixed in some fancy business with their sledgehammer punches, with Sultan Ibragimov having counterpunched his way to victory over Evander Holyfield recently and Ruslan Chagaev having done the same to Nicolay Valuev this year. Hell, even the 7'0", 300 lbs.+ Valuev has a pretty nice jab.

There are other Russian fighters, of course -- the aforementioned Tsyzu, one of the greatest 140-pounders who ever lived, resided in Australia but hailed from the USSR -- but Russia is all about the heavyweights. And they will be for a while, the way things are going. That is, unless promising Mexican heavyweight Chris Arreola extends his country's dominance upward from the lower weight classes where they have long reigned as kings.

(Having hit the five regions that has the greatest and most multitudinous array of champions and amazing fighters, I'll now go more quickly through some regions that are players but that aren't as predominant for one reason or the other.)

Puerto Rico
Miguel Cotto is their current superstar, and one of the biggest in boxing. He shares traits with his predecessor in boxing-mad, hero-worshipping PR, comebacking Felix Trinidad: He comes straight ahead. He hits very, very hard, even ruinously. He has a modicum of skill. And he sometimes strays below the beltline. While Puerto Rico has had its share of similar types -- the Puerto Rican-ancestored Kermit Cintron is of that mold, minus the fouling -- others fall into the slickster category, like Hector "Macho" Camacho, and current boxers with Puerto Rican backgrounds, such as Luis Collazo and Carlos Quintana. And by the looks of that lineup, it seems like PR is pretty good at churning out fighters who kick ass in the 140-pound range. The future? A combo slickster/power puncher prospect named Juan Manuel Lopez who, from what I've seen, could be the stuff of nightmares for his opponents sooner rather than later.

Colombia
At the tip of South America, they tend to make them one, uniform way perhaps more than any other country: Power punchers, power punchers, power punchers. Their KO ratios are pretty jaw-dropping. Sometimes, they are illusions. They hit hard, no doubt, but they are propped up on deceivingly good records. Other times, they are legitimate, and get tossed aside after a setback because of the sour taste left in the mouths of boxing fans -- boxing fans who lust for Colombian fighters' promise of breathtaking knockout but have repeatedly seen that promise vanish into thin air the first time they're in against anyone with some skill. In this category of legit fighters currently rebuilding from the stereotype after setbacks are Joel Julio, Edison Miranda and Ricardo Torres. But these Colombians are a force to be reckoned with no matter what; just check out how Torres nearly snuffed out Cotto's supernova and Miranda took down highly-touted American Allan Green.

Africa
The diversity of African fighters is such that it's not possible to pinpoint a distinct African style; any attempt to do so is as foolish as thinking that all of Africa's countries are the same. That said, African fighters are not so much a force when you take them country by country, and only when you take them as a continent on the whole. Sam Peter of Nigeria is the second-best heavyweight around, and he's raw punching power incarnate, albeit one that is improving his all-around skills. Uganda's Kassim Ouma is merely the most prolific puncher in boxing, someone who wears down his opponent not with power but with sheer activity. Ike Quartey of Ghana, who made his living off a beautiful jab, is a force still. If there is one link, it's that African fighters tend to be smiling warriors -- on the way to the ring, you'll rarely see anyone grinning from ear to ear, but when you do, it's almost always a fighter from Africa.

(And now, no more than a sentence fragment for a few others)

Germany is home to bad boxing judges and over-protected fighters, but Arthur Abraham is for real... I wish I was able to see more fighters from Japan and a number of other Asian countries on TV, because they are all over the lowest weight classes... Yes, there is a good French fighter, and his name is Jean-Marc Mormeck... Australia actually has a number of quite good boxers, like Paul Briggs and Michael Katsidis, but I've not seen enough of each of them outside of Briggs to know first-hand... There are pockets of recent good boxing traditions in South America outside of Colombia, like Venezuela's Edwin Valero... Around Central America and Cuba, they make good fighters, but they seem to make them mean, too, like Panama's Roberto Duran from back in the day, Nicaraguan foil Ricardo Mayorga or Cuba's mouthy Joel Casamayor... I'm not even going to try to get into Poland or Italy, where they range from good when they leave to questionable and staying put... And, apparently, there's something good in the water in Canada these days.

CORRECTED: To reflect the actual nationality of Michael Katsidis.

Some "Contender," Some Promotional Tactics, Some Favorites And Some Not

Busy 60+ hour work week for me, sleepy week for boxing. Please find below a series of exceedingly quick, random thoughts (and, apologies -- not much background for the uninitiated to follow along, unless you click the links):

• So much for making Kelly Pavlik the Thomas Hearns to your Sugar Ray Leonard, Sergio Mora. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy, huh?
• Keeping on the "Contender" tip -- I can't blame Alfonso Gomez for having a rough time with Ben Tackie. He gives everyone a rough time.
• Welcome back to the win column, Vic Darchinyan. I know it's philosophically inconsistent to dig Darchinyan but not Mora, but weird hard-punching Armenian assholes amuse me.
• It's looking more and more like we're going to get Juan Manuel Marquez-Manny Pacquiao II at 130 lbs. There's hardly a fight I could want to see more.
• On the down side, how in the world it is a good thing for boxing to schedule Pacquiao's next fight on HBO the same night as Israel Vasquez-Rafael Marquez III? Super-lame.
  
• First Miguel Cotto, then Antonio Margarito, now Pavlik -- throwing out a pitch at a baseball game is a nice, new boxing promotion fad.
• That whole "Dancing With The Stars" gig worked out as well for Floyd Mayweather as it could; he gets publicity but gets kicked off in time to focus pretty well on Ricky Hatton.
• Once more into the "Contender" world -- I'd like to see Peter Manfredo and Jeff Lacy get it on. I like Lacy in that one, but I like it even better for his profile.
• Comcast blows, so I wasn't able to catch the replay through the static, but I'm glad Dmitri Kirilov won a title last weekend. I thought he did against Luis Perez, but the judges didn't.

Mona Shaw is my new hero. I totally agree.

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.

Medicinal Mouthwash

Nothing to wipe the bitter taste out of my mouth left by yesterday's contemplation of Evander Holyfield-Sultan Ibragimov than looking forward to a far better fight, one that shows what's right about boxing these days: ESPN's Dan Rafael is reporting that two young, crowd-pleasing, pugilists with star potential are in discussions to meet in the ring early in 2008. That means the incredible string of fall and winter fights continues unabated, a string that some long-time boxing writers are calling the best in history. For a second, I'll defer the names of the two latest boxers to enlist for a great match-up, and ask you to follow along.

Many of the people I know will be more inclined Monday to ask my opinion of Saturday's Holyfield fight than of the much more interesting Juan Diaz-Julio Diaz fight also happening this weekend. That they will comes from a natural place -- they know Holyfield, but they don't know the Diazes. Likewise, when I mention to these same people some intriguing fight coming up, more often than not, they shrug it off and say, "Never heard of 'em."

There are only a few ways they will ever hear about a great fighter who began his career prior to the mid-90s, or hear about a thrilling fight that happened after the masses began tuning out in droves. One is me talking the ear off of everyone will listen, on this blog or elsewhere, and other boxing fans doing the same. People buzzed about the Jermain Taylor-Kelly Pavlik fight, and as a result, I was happy to find people asking me about it that following Monday morning.

Another way is if the sport handles its business properly. That's what it's been doing of late. Threatened by mixed martial arts, boxing has gotten savvier about promoting itself, but most importantly, the best are fighting the best almost every weekend these days -- something that the UFC was having no problem arranging, but that boxing was failing to do until recently. In the end, it's the chief way to break through people's unwillingness to give new fighters a chance. Forget that they would do it for another sport; people become fans of basketball players when they are no-names in high school, even. Forget that a general lack of open-mindedness prevents a great many people from wanting to listen to any band they haven't heard of until a radio station jams it down their throats. It is what it is.

The best way for fighters to become known is just to be in good fights. Word of mouth helped get people interested in Taylor-Pavlik, as I said before, but people now are going to want to see what Pavlik does next because it was a helluva fight.

I doubt most non-boxing fans have heard of Kermit Cintron or Paul Williams, both welterweight (147 lbs.) belt-holders. Maybe they caught Cintron's unbelievable knockout of Walter Matthysse on YouTube, where it was disseminated wildly. Maybe they've heard of him because he's willing to take on someone from the UFC to settle which sport is best. But probably most haven't heard of him. Williams is even lesser known.

If and when Cintron and Williams fight in early 2008, as ESPN reported they might, it should be riveting. The 27-year-old Cintron is one of the most powerful punchers in all of boxing, always a fan-friendly trait. The 26-year-old Williams puts on a good show, too -- at 6'1" and with a freakish 82-inch reach comparable to Muhammad Ali's, he has knocked out about two thirds of his opponents and embodies the phrase "action-packed," since he throws punches nearly every second of every round. Both are taking risks by fighting each other, since neither are the kind of foe anyone looking for an easy title reign might want to take on. That they are in talks to rumble is just one more reason the welterweight division is in the midst of a renaissance unlike any period since the days Sugar Ray Leonard and Thomas Hearns roamed the weight class, captivating the public at large. Oh, and everyone in the division is fighting everyone.

In 2007 alone, Puerto Rican superstar-to-be Miguel Cotto defeated the ultra-talented Zab Judah in a sold-out Madison Square Garden. Floyd Mayweather and Oscar De La Hoya, both now welterweights, fought at the super welterweight limit (154 lbs.) in the biggest money fight of all time. An HBO tripleheader headlined by Paul Williams' gallant win over the tough, oft-avoided welterweight standard-bearer Antonio Margarito did good business in California. Next, in November, Cotto's fighting Shane Mosley, one of the last remaining big-name fighters from the 90s, in what on paper is the best fight of the year. And in December, Mayweather's fighting Ricky Hatton, a national hero in Great Britain, in a fight that's already sold-out one stadium and a closed-circuit facility to boot.

I apologize for sounding like a broken record by constantly revisiting some of these themes of how great the welterweight division is these days, and how great the fall and winter look for boxing fans. But, hey, it's a good record. And I'm trying to do my part by playing the role of a radio station trying to ram a great track down the throats of anyone out there in hopes that'll catch on and become a smash hit. Right now, boxing deserves it.

Old Evander Holyfield Vs. Someone Or The Other

There's something in me that is reluctant even to spend more than a paragraph on Saturday's pay-per-view fight between Evander Holyfield and Sultan Ibragimov. It's not an event that's terribly flattering to the state of boxing, which is otherwise on a serious hot streak. But the historic import -- which I'll get to in a second -- compels me. In the meantime, if you're just visiting Seven Punch Combo for the first time, please check out this post, this post and this post before you write off a sport that will allow a fossil to fight an anonymous foreigner for a title that both have mysteriously "earned" a shot at.

In one corner Saturday we have Ibragimov, another Russian heavyweight champ no one's ever heard of and who barely deserves his title belt. He got it in June by picking apart an asthmatic, Shannon Briggs, who won his belt the year before in one of the worst heavyweight fights you'll ever see, at least until Briggs knocked the previous champ through the ropes with only seconds remaining in the final round. And Ibragimov got his title chance by fighting to a draw with Ray Austin, who went on in his next bout to get KO'd in the second round against one of the few legitimately good heavyweight belt-holders around these days, Vladimir Klitschko. Why a draw gets anyone a title shot -- let alone both draw-ers getting title shots -- is beyond me. What little I've seen of Ibragimov, I've seen on the Internet. He's got decent hand speed and decent footwork and decent power. He's got a decent chin, but he was down against Austin. From what I've seen, he's a decent big man, I guess, but in another era of heavyweights, I'd forecast him as a not too troublesome, but moderately credible, stay busy opponent for another champion.

In the other corner we have the 44-year-old Evander Holyfield. Make no mistake: Holyfield is one of the greatest heavyweights ever. Even when he was winning in what was perceived as the lackluster 90s, he was winning against real serious heavyweights. When he began losing to them, he still earned my respect, because he clearly gave his all even as he was in the twilight of his career. When he began losing to people who weren't very good, I wanted him to quit. When he began losing to people who weren't very good and looking bad while doing it, I was grateful to see his boxing license stripped by the state of New York because I didn't want to see him die in the ring. Since then, he's looked revitalized beating people who aren't very good. Optical illusion, maybe. But a decent enough one for me to say to myself, "Hell, why not give him one more chance?" From the looks of his recent fights, his hand speed is back, a little, his power -- always on the light side for a heavyweight, given that's he's undersized -- has come back in spurts, he appears to have recovered the ability to defend himself somewhat and he's throwing good combinations again. No one seems to much doubt that Holyfield has performed better of late than he did prior to his license-stripping run. But is he good enough at his advanced age to defeat a decent heavyweight? And why does beating the people he beat get him another title chance?

If he does win, this will be a big story. Sure, most everyone is pissing all over this fight, given the shoddy state of heavyweight boxing. It remains to be seen if the big story of Holyfield's win would be a mostly good one -- a la George Foreman winning a title at age 45 -- or another black eye for the sport. Holyfield is under investigation for buying steroids (Really? They were for "Evan Fields?" And this Fields chap has the same birthday as Holyfield? And they were delivered to what looked like Holyfield's address?), so that could be a knock on the virtuosity that helped making him popular, thereby morphing the story from positive to negative. On the other hand, Holyfield would become a five-time world heavyweight champion. That's remarkable. For that reason, it can't be totally ignored. But if I was king of the universe, people would be talking more about the Juan Diaz-Julio Diaz shootout happening Saturday, not this.

MY PREDICTION: I don't know if it's sentiment primarily driving this, but I'm picking Holyfield by decision. At the conscious level, I've got some good reasons. He's way more experienced than Ibragimov, who's had just about 20 pro fights. Ibragimov seems eminently hittable, and, once hit, slightly hurtable. Austin's no world-beater, and he had Ibragimov on the deck. But Holyfield isn't a big puncher, either, so I see Ibragimov ending the fight on his feet, but narrowly out-pointed. I'm not totally crazy to make this prediction, even though Holyfield is a severe betting underdog -- veteran scribe Kevin Iole made the same call.
CONFIDENCE: 55%. Ibragimov is younger, fresher and the fight's in his home country. Biased judging is a real risk. Maybe, though, the crowd turns on Ibragimov the way they did Ivan Drago, and the judges are swayed. Either way. Can you tell I'm phoning this one in?
MY ALLEGIANCE: Not unlike Arturo Gatti's last fight, I'm torn. I've always liked Holyfield. I spent a lot of time saying so when this fight was announced. But unlike Gatti, I'm not convinced Holyfield will retire if he's beaten, so I don't even have a rooting interest in seeing Holyfield lose without suffering, a kind of mercy loss. He wants to unify the titles, nearly impossible in the fragmented heavyweight division. Some of them, such as Vladimir Klitschko, would probably pose serious threats to Holyfield's life. This ends badly, folks, whether it's this weekend or down the line. Until then, I guess I'll go with the Holyfield I know over the Ibragimov I don't.














At least the commercials for Holyfield-Ibragimov are cute.

"Too Much Diaz In The Weight Class Right Now"

Suppose you have one Diaz -- let's name this one Juan -- who is the very definition of a pressure fighter. He keeps coming and coming, frustrating his opponents because he just... won't... get off of them already. Only problem is, he's shown before that he has trouble with guys who can move their feet, display a little slickness. And suppose you have another Diaz -- let's name this one Julio -- who has real knockout power, but he's also got, for lack of a better description, a little slickness; he can move his feet and control the pace of things until he catches his opponent with that KO punch. The only problem with this Diaz is, he's shown before that he has difficulty against guys who come at him throwing a lot of punches and swarming him, so-called pressure fighters. And suppose both of these Diazes are in their primes, and that they have a tendency to ditch the pretty stuff when they're in the thick of battle and see whether they can bomb out their opponents. What, do you suppose, would happen?

If you didn't get the telegraph there, you might be surprised to learn that you'll have a chance to find out Saturday, when the very non-hypothetical Juan and Julio Diaz face off on HBO for a chance to unify three different lightweight (135 lbs.) belts. While I couldn't blame anyone for pursuing their morbid curiosity about Evander Holyfield's latest attempt to re-win the heavyweight title airing the same night on pay per view, the Diaz vs. Diaz fight is free, and it's one of the top 10 fights I'm looking forward to in the jam-packed final quarter of 2007.

Juan, at age 24, is a college student and potential boxing superstar who sparked a bidding war last year between top promoters eager to sign "The Baby Bull" and keep him aboard until he follows his dream of running for office. One of the fights that no doubt made him a hot prospect was his spring 2006 sizzler against Jose Miguel Cotto, which I bet nearly exploded the CompuBox punch stat counters for all the fists a-flying. He rewarded Don King, the promoter who signed him later in 2006, with a victory this spring over Acelino Freitas, in what would be his biggest test. Freitas flummoxed Juan for a few rounds with some slick boxing before Freitas could no longer hold off the charges of the squat, aptly-nicknamed Baby Bull. And he really hurt Freitas a few times, too, suggesting that maybe Juan had finally begun to acquire some serious power to go along with his all-out energy.

While Juan's career arc has been a steep upward curve, Julio's has been a series of jagged lines. His 2005 TKO loss to a pressure-applying Jose Luis Castillo mere months before Castillo participated in the greatest fight I've ever seen against Diego Corrales was nothing to be ashamed of, but Julio, now 27, took it hard. Maybe it's because he'd steadily built his career back after a period where he lost two of three, one a disputed decision to Angel Manfredy in 2002 and the other a devastating first round knockout to Juan Valenzuela in 2001. Even his title-winning bout this year was strange, when Jesus Chavez had to quit because of an injury. In that fight, Julio relied on his pure boxing skills to build a steady lead, and while I've seen far less of Juan than I have of Julio, it's clear that the latter Diaz is fast. It's also clear that he's a warrior and that he hits very, very hard, with a complete variety of punches at his disposal.

Juan is the big betting favorite, as of now. But hardcore fans know this is no easy call, with the only certainty being that watching it unfold is a bright idea.

MY PREDICTION: Juan by close decision. He's undefeated and getting better with every fight, and he's been more active than Julio, who's had some long layoffs in his career. Rust, plus pressure from Castillo, did in Julio in 2005. I think it does Julio in again when the pressure comes from Juan, except Juan doesn't hit as hard as Castillo so Julio will lat until the bell rings.
CONFIDENCE: 55%. My lack of extensive exposure to either man leaves me hedging. More than one observer has said it would be foolish to underestimate Julio's power, and some think Juan could expose himself to a big blow when he goes nuts in one of his frenzies.
MY ALLEGIANCE: Julio delivered one of my favorite post-fight quotes this year, reflecting on the fact that he, Juan and David Diaz all had lightweight belts and he wanted to fight Juan next: "I'm hoping Juan Diaz finishes his homework and comes out to play. I just think there is too much Diaz in the weight class right now and we need to start getting rid of some of them." But I can't resist a college student-slash-boxer. Win one for higher education, Juan.














So much Ash, so much Diaz.

Paydirt Again

TheSweetScience.com just published an item of mine, the post just below. It's a great site edited by Michael Woods, who's among the handful of the best boxing writers out there. Enjoy.