Prospective Unfortunate Side Effects Of A Loaded Late-Year Fight Schedule

This weekend and next, two potentially nice scraps will go untelevised, and it's likely because HBO and Showtime have tapped their budgets and filled their available dates. Strange as it sounds for a sport that was left for dead when I began following it, this fall and winter's bounty of quality match-ups is so overflowing that what would have been decent mid-level attractions a year ago suddenly can't find a home on the small screen. In an entertaining interview at BoxingTalk.com, Paulie Malignaggi -- the crowd-pleasingest boxer you'll ever see who has the punching power of a little girl, what with his strange penchant for making action fights -- speculates that the loaded schedule is the main thing keeping him off TV this fall. One has to imagine other quality fights are on hold for the same reason. It's a shame of a by-product, if so, but certainly falls under the category of "good problems to have."

Both the neglected fights of which I speak are in Paulie's junior welterweight division, at 140 lbs. Two years ago, it looked like boxing's glamour division, but a number of fighters outgrew it and moved up to full-fledged welterweights at 147 lbs. But with these two fights, plus Paulie's presence and the chance that a number of vets of lower weights like Joel Casamayor are thinking about switching to 140, there's some nice new blood here, and they're all fighting each other. Some of them, I confess, I've barely gotten glimpses of. First up, this weekend, is Ricardo Torres versus Kendall Holt. I've only seen Torres in his eye-poppingly good brawl against Miguel Cotto two years ago, when one or the other of them was down in nearly every round before Cotto pulled out the win. Torres has all kinds of power, but looks shaky in the departments of technique and whiskers. I've watched Holt in a couple showcase-type bouts, when he was in against OK competition, but showcase he did, demonstrating speed, footwork and enough pop to make him eminently watchable. I like Holt here by mid to late round TKO. Next weekend, Junior Witter takes on Vivian Harris, and I have no prediction here. I like and have seen my fair share of Harris' ring game, even if he is inconsistent. He's got good skills and very good power for a 140-pounder. I've never seen Witter, not once, but word is he's a tough an out as there is in boxing. It's too bad I won't see him in this clash of two of the division's consensus best.

To Maintain One's Hip-Hop Credibility, May I Suggest The Cha Cha?

Two thoughts, to be filed under the category of "Huh? Really?"

• So the sport's most gifted performer, welterweight (147lbs) Floyd Mayweather, Jr., who has worked hard at becoming a reviled caricature of hip-hop braggadocio and street thug bluster, is joining the cast of "Dancing With The Stars." That is, the show where various celebrities perform the cha cha. There's always been some cognitive dissonance going on with Mayweather, whose perfect smile, occasional charity work and obvious desire to be a beloved superstar contradict his default act as a foul-mouthed jewelry-and-car-accumulating jackass. On the cusp of wider public exposure in 2005, he spent weeks decrying the genuinely beloved Arturo Gatti as a "club fighter;" then he cried in the ring and thanked God after winning his title, apologizing to Gatti along the way for his pre-fight antics and attributing them to a desire to hype the fight. The last time the general non-boxing public saw Mayweather, he was trash-talking the also-genuinely beloved Oscar De La Hoya in the acclaimed, much-watched documentary series "De La Hoya/Mayweather 24/7" as 50 Cent surreally scooted around the room on a Segway. When next the general public sees him, presumably it'll be getting a look at Mayweather's "good guy" alter ego in post-foxtrot interviews. Yes, boxing and dancing do go together -- witness Muhammad Ali, for instance, or even Evander Holyfield's participation in the show. And I'm all for boxing getting more public exposure. But I do wish that the sport's biggest potential superstar could decide on a persona, so that non-boxing people could rally around a charming Sugar Ray Leonard-type or at least tune in to the next Mayweather fight in droves with hopes of seeing him getting his face rearranged.
  
• During a recent news conference, Fernando Vargas detailed his problems gaining and losing weight between fights, revealing that he had once shed pounds on a diet of hard boiled egg whites and NyQuil. Yikes. It's not terribly surprising, therefore, that his body is torn half to hell (with persistent blows to the head probably not helping much) and that his September showdown with Ricardo Mayorga is postponed. Vargas is reportedly suffering from anemia and stomach ulcers. I don't know if robbing himself of iron was key to his latest weight loss plan, which called for him to drop more than 100 lbs. en route to the contracted maximum day-before weight of 162 lbs. But man alive, what a rough career it's been for Vargas, and what a debilitating effect it has had on his physical being. Even as he has won stardom for his heart and ferocity in the ring, he has suffered a frightening beatdown at the hands of Tito Trinidad, indulged in steroids to increase his chances of winning his fight against hated rival De La Hoya (at least, that's what the blood tests said; Vargas lost, by the way) and wrecked his insides preparing for his career finale. At this point, about the healthiest thing "El Feroz" could do is help himself to as many of his cherished enchiladas as he can eat, no matter how much he blimps up from it.

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

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

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

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

BEST OF THE BEST

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

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

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

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

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

BEST OF THE REST

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

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

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

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

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

The Blowout That I Seem Alone In Expecting

Far be it from me to criticize the two best fighters in a division from meeting up, which is exactly what is happening in late September when Jermain Taylor, the acknowledged middleweight (160 lbs.) king, is scheduled to rumble with Kelly Pavlik, the acknowledged top contender. That this match is happening is a tribute to boxing as it should be; it's a tribute to Taylor for taking on a guy who's very, very dangerous; and it's one of the marquee fights that is making this fall and winter full to the brim of important match-ups.

But I am alone, from what I can tell, in expecting this to be a mismatch.

Pavlik has always looked fearsome to me, but he looked downright nasty in his last fight, a knockout of heavily-hyped power puncher Edison Miranda. In Pavlik's first bout against a fellow major contender, Miranda got demolished. But Pavlik would pose style challenges for nearly anyone. He stalks people down, throwing volleys of hard, pinpoint blows along the way. Once he smothers them into a corner or against the ropes, he unloads every punch in his arsenal, especially those unholy straight rights, and, increasingly, jarring uppercuts. The result is that almost every one of his opponents goes to sleep, sometimes frighteningly. If anyone was going to dent Pavlik's chin and return the favor, it would have been Miranda. Instead, Pavlik proved he could take anything Miranda dished out, particularly because of Pavlik's punch volume. The strategy was to keep Miranda backing up under Pavlik's offensive onslaught, thus dulling his legendary power as he struggled to plant his feet for maximum destructiveness (Miranda's power is not an illusion -- Arthur Abraham's badly-broken jaw being one testament to Edison's mean punches).

So what case can one make for Taylor beating Pavlik? Certainly, his own power does not figure to be a factor. Taylor failed to knock out Cory Spinks in his last fight, quite an unimpressive feat since Spinks has been knocked out or nearly knocked out in two lower divisions (147 lbs. and 154 lbs.). He couldn't knock out Kassim Ouma, either, and Ouma was accustomed to a lower weight as well. Spinks is an evasive, slippery boxer, so maybe the failed knockout there can be written off. But while Ouma's a tough customer, Taylor hit him with a fusillade of punches, none of which seemed to cause the smaller man much trouble, so the combination of what happened versus Spinks and Ouma makes Taylor's power questionable. Can you make a case for Taylor's own boxing skill? Perhaps, but that is more dubious by the day. No upper-caliber fighter around has appeared to regress as much as Taylor has. He gets by on athleticism and heart more than his once piston-like jab, which has evaporated into thin air. For the last two years he has, quizzically, fought while backing up against nearly everyone, a bad recipe against someone like Pavlik, who showed that he can capitalize on that quite well. Taylor bested Pavlik when they were amateurs, but Pavlik's boxing skills have gotten sharper with every fight, and besides, winning in the amateurs wearing headgear and heavy gloves is a wholly different thing than winning in the pros; just ask Mohamad Abdulaev, who conquered Miguel Cotto in the Olympics only to get the stuffing knocked out of him in the pros by a harder-hitting, improved Cotto.

I think there are two indisputable advantages one could put in the Taylor column. First, Taylor is faster than Pavlik. I'm not sure by how much, but it might be enough to allow Taylor to hit-and-run his way to a favorable decision. On the other hand, the best neutralizer for speed is volume. Throwing a lot of punches is key to slowing down a faster opponent, and if nothing else, Pavlik has demonstrated he will throw a lot of punches every single time he steps between the ropes. Second, Taylor has fought far superior competition and has found a way to dig out a victory or draw every time. Pavlik has fought a few decent "gatekeeper" fighters where he proved his mettle, but only his win against Miranda counts as a serious, quality W. Taylor, by contrast, kept his unbeaten record intact against a pair of all-time greats in Bernard Hopkins and Winky Wright in fights he could have easily lost but in which he summoned all his willpower to survive. Spinks and Ouma may be smaller and Taylor's performances versus them were unwatchably bad, but they are two very good fighters. And yet, Pavlik has demonstrated his own savvy and guts, putting together a smart game plan against Miranda and proving he would walk through any danger to win.

All of this doesn't even take into account my sense that Taylor has a decent chin, but not a world-class one. He almost hit the canvass a few times versus Hopkins, not as dangerous a puncher at the advanced age at which he fought Taylor as is Pavlik now, a young, power-puncher in his prime.

I want nothing more from Pavlik-Miranda than an action-packed, competitive and definitive showdown between the two top middleweights in the world. But I suspect very strongly that we will instead get the first two -- action-packed, definitive -- in lieu of the last -- competitive.













Kelly Pavlik, at left, no relation to my friend, Jim; Edison Miranda, at right, no relation to one's rights.

Two More Things To Get Rid Of, Of The Smaller Variety

These may be glorious days for the health of the sport, starting with the biggest fight of all time, money-wise, having just transpired this summer between Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather, Jr. What's more, this fall and winter will spotlight incredible fights pitting the best against the best, the highest-profile against the highest-profile, the most evenly-matched against the most evenly-matched. So glorious is the lineup for the rest of the year that when combined with what's already happened in 2007, veteran boxing commentators are calling it the best year for the sport in perhaps a decade.

Some of boxing's self-inflicted wounds have healed themselves in order to make 2007 what it is and will be, foremost among them the civil war between the sport's top two promotional companies, Golden Boy and Top Rank. But now is the time to be ever-more vigilant. Boxing needs to seize the day and rid itself of its other problems -- the endless number of belts, for instance, and all that silly hugging. I've recently raged about excessive holding, and perhaps I'll someday soon address some of those other, larger topics. But for now I'm advocating something like the "broken windows" theory of crime-fighting be applied to boxing. That is, as the founders of the theory wrote: "Consider a building with a few broken windows. If the windows are not repaired, the tendency is for vandals to break a few more windows. Eventually, they may even break into the building, and if it's unoccupied, perhaps become squatters or light fires inside." The theory -- disputed by many, I must admit -- holds that fixing those windows immediately is key to prevention of crime.

To return to my original metaphor, below are two of boxing's colds and hangnails, none of which can by themselves ruin the sport, but that must be eliminated for optimal health. Or maybe they're just pet peeves that I'm trying to elevate into something meaningful with some overheated rhetoric. Either way, they've got to go. I'll file these kind of things from now on under the label "cures":

Lennox Lewis as a commentator. I will defend his oft-lamented heavyweight title reign unto my death, but in the announcer's booth, he is nearly as grating as the NBA's Bill Walton. His praise of Andre Dirrell following what I saw as the single most detestable boxing performance I've ever viewed -- he nearly sprinted away from punches and landed only a few jabs a round en route to a horrid victory over Curtis Stevens -- is exhibit number one. Lennox actually said he wanted to see Dirrell again, and he has to be the only one. More recently, Lennox was completely flummoxed about how Daniel Ponce DeLeon knocked out Rey Bautista in one round, because Lennox somehow thought DeLeon was not a power puncher. In fact, a power puncher is all DeLeon really is, and he's very good at it. Had Lennox witnessed even a single DeLeon fight other than the highlights he'd seen of a very poor performance in his most recent prior bout, he would never have said any such thing. I don't belabor him too much his inability to pronounce anyone's name, because boxer-turned-commentator predecessors George Foreman and Roy Jones, Jr. were guilty of the same sin. But from the smallest mis-calls such as mispronunciations, to regular-sized mis-calls such as whether anything like what he's describing is happening in the ring, to the truly awful mis-calls like those of Dirrell and DeLeon, everything about Lennox as a ringside commentator works me into a frenzy.

Referee Laurence Cole. There is no worse referee alive who regularly gets high-profile assignments, but perhaps a zombie would do a better job. He is the beneficiary of flagrant nepotism, multiplied by conflicts of interest. And besides that, he sucks. Cole's father is one Dick Cole, who runs the Texas state department that regulates boxing, where his son regularly receives assignments. Dick also insures boxers; Laurence has more than once been accused of prematurely stopping fights when one combatant was losing, with the sub-allegation being that he did so so as to spare his father's company from having to pay out for any extra damage incurred. One of the strangest things I've seen a referee do was during the Juan Manuel Marquez-Jimrex Jaca bout. When Marquez suffered a nasty cut, Cole took him to a neutral corner and, with his hand over his microphone, uttered a bafflingly inappropriate series of messages. Cole informed Marquez that if the fight was stopped, rules-wise, it was in an advanced enough round that it would go to the scorecards. He told Marquez he was ahead on the scorecards and asked if he wanted to continue. In no way should Cole know whether Marquez was ahead on the scorecards; only the judges know that until the final results are announced. And if Cole didn't know, he was guessing, which is even worse, because he could have been wrong, and Marquez could have lost. And at any rate, Cole shouldn't be in the business of advising fighters -- he's a referee, supposedly impartial. He was fined and suspended in Texas, but only a few weeks later he'd received another nice assignment on TV, this time in Arkansas. Oh, and he blew a call during that fight, if I remember correctly. Type "Laurence Cole" and "controversy" into any search engine, and you'll find dozens of complaints about calls he's made during fights, the kind that have a tendency to influence the outcome. Perhaps aware of his reputation, he did next to nothing to put a halt to the foul-a-thon between Celistino Caballero and Jorge Lacierva that marred the undercard of the rematch between Israel Vasquez and Rafael Marquez. Someone, please, stop Laurence Cole. It wouldn't be premature.











If you see Lennox Lewis in a suit...














...or Laurence Cole refereeing a fight -- it's going to be a clumsy, embarrassing night for boxing.

Trinidad's Back! (But, Um..)

I'm about as devoted a Felix "Tito" Trinidad fan as you will find outside of his home in Puerto Rico, and this despite my having arrived at the fight game well after he attained his career high marks. He was a ruinous puncher, with about as beautiful a left hook as anyone has ever had. He honed enough boxing skill to make those left hooks really, really dangerous. He fought the best boxers of his time. He was just generally great, and generally great to watch.

Trinidad had unfinished business with Roy Jones, Jr., which is why I suppose it makes sense for him to end his retirement for a January 2008 showdown with Jones. Several years ago, Jones was to be Trinidad's next opponent, just as soon as he finished mopping the floor with Bernard Hopkins in late 2001. Instead, Hopkins mopped the floor with Trinidad, and with this Felix's suspected fatal flaw -- the one that led him to the brink of defeat at the hands of Oscar De La Hoya only to be saved by some quirky ringside judges and De La Hoya's own bad decision to do nothing in the final few rounds on the thinking that he had easily won the early stanzas -- was flagrantly exposed. That is, Trinidad can't handle slick boxers, guys who have savvy and tip-top technique. Trinidad retired, un-retired for an entertaining brawl with Ricardo Mayorga, then retired again following a shutout at the hands of Winky Wright. Winky being a slick boxer. That brings us to now.

Jones is damaged goods after savage back-to-back knockouts courtesy Antonio Tarver and Glen Johnson, and while his career has continued on, no longer is Jones the breathtaking once-in-a-generation athlete who could play basketball the same day of a fight; who could knock a man out a split second after strutting around with his hands behind his back; who looked so much better than everyone else he fought that winning became a bore. But Jones still, even in his diminished state, is a slick boxer.

I'm all for fighters saying "To hell with it" in the face of a dire challenge and charging straight in to see what they're made of. It's one of the traits that made Trinidad great. Certainly, if Trinidad could connect with a few of those patented left hooks, Jones could crumple into a heap. But at this stage in his career, it might have been better had Trinidad chosen a fighter for his comeback who would stand and trade blows without a lot of fancy business.

Boxing Nicknames: The Final Frontier

Not long ago, I noticed basketball players didn't have as many nicknames as they once did, and that their overall quality has dipped. Dubbing Tracy McGrady "T-Mac" hardly accomplishes much by way of artistry, does it? Give me back Charles Barkley, aka "The Round Mound of Rebound." Boxing, for whatever faults I'm willing to concede it has in comparison to other sports, stands at the summit by itself in the category of nicknames.

Many are familiar and recycled. "Sugar," "Kid," and others are so commonplace they have lost some of their obvious appeal. While thinking about writing a post about great boxing nicknames, I noticed that others who have put together similar lists have favored either the menacing-sounding ("Iron" Mike Tyson) or the familiar (Thomas "The Hitman" Hearns, now a common nickname and not even Hearns' best nickname by my standard [That being "The Motor City Cobra"]).

For me, what makes a good nickname is creativity or strangeness. With that, I've assembled below -- in no particular order -- my 20 favorite boxing nicknames for active fighters, with commentary. The list might be better if it included fictional ones (Apollo Creed, "The Count of Monte Fisto," being the finest I stumbled across in perhaps all boxing history, real or imagined) or those affixed to former fighters (on ESPN's list, #4, Chuck "The Bayonne Bleeder" Wepner -- the real boxer Rocky Balboa is based upon -- is fantastic). But I think it's more relevant to stick to active boxers, because it proves my point: When it comes to nicknames, boxing is the sport where they truly thrive.

• Andrew "Six Heads" Lewis: Apparently, a blurry-eyed, felled opponent in the amateurs was being inspected by a ring doctor, who asked him what he saw. Looking at Lewis, he remarked that he had six heads.
• Vladimir Klitschko, "Dr. Steelhammer," and Vitali Klitschko, "Dr. Ironfist": Both brothers have doctorates, adding an awesome supervillain-like prefix to what would be pretty good nicknames in and of themselves.
• Calvin Brock, "The Boxing Banker": Keeping with the tradition of the Klitschkos, Brock has a degree in finance, thus the not-very-intimidating-sounding "Boxing Banker." Vladimir knocked out Brock a few fights back. Better work on that doctorate, Calvin.
• Darnell "Ding-A-Ling Man" Wilson: "Ding-A-Ling Man" is a favorite of both list-makers who prefer the wacky and those more serious-minded about their boxing nicknames.
• Andrew Golota, "The Foul Pole": Maybe this wouldn't count in a more regimented list, since Andrew didn't name himself that. He earned it instead by having a tendency for low blows and by being Polish.
• Nate Campbell, "The Galaxxy Warrior": Just plain science fiction silly, this one, but apparently related to a gym Nate boxed in that bore the double-X spelling of the word "galaxy."
• DeMarcus "Chop Chop" Corley: Even if his punches "chop" people down, it's entertaining that his nickname doubles as a command to a servant.
• Manny "Pacman" Pacquiao: Obviously he derives this from his last name, but I'm reminded of Marvelous Marvin Hagler hilariously telling HBO about his legendary fight with Hearns that he had decided he was going to gobble him up like Pac-Man. Hagler obliged in the interview by slowly opening his mouth wide then shutting it quickly and repeatedly while making an eating noise. I think Manny beat out "Pacman" Jones for this one, chronologically.
  
• Friday "The 13th" Ahunanya: It's a good thing his first name is Friday, because by itself, "The 13th" is just a non sequitur. Together? Spooooooooky.
  
• Owen "What The Heck?" Beck: This one has the combined advantage of rhyming and being a standalone sentence.
• Acelino "Popo" Freitas: His mother gave him the nickname as a newborn, mimicking the sound that Brazilians identify as a baby sucking on a bottle -- "popo." Fittingly, he quit his two most recent big fights because he didn't like they way they were going.
• Juan Lazcano, "The Hispanic Causing Panic": Ethnic-based nicknames are common, and vary from the good -- here, again, rhyming is a real asset -- to the awful.
• Sergio Mora, "The Latin Snake": This is not near as good as "The Hispanic Causing Panic," but the imagery is interesting.
• Brian Viloria, "The Hawaiian Punch": He's from Hawaii, and he punches for a living, so "The Hawaiian Punch" is a natural.
• Kingsley "Sharp Knuckle" Ikeke: Ouch.
• Andre Ward, "The All-Terrain Fighter": I've read that he's abandoned this one. Sad, because I enjoy picturing him fighting in quicksand, say, or on hot coals.
• Oliver McCall, "The Atomic Bull": McCall, an otherwise dangerous heavyweight, made his name with his strange in-ring breakdown against Lennox Lewis where he decided to stop fighting but refused to quit all together, instead turning his back on Lennox and crying between rounds. So "The Atomic Bull" would be good for its comic book quality, but it's all the better for the fitting match it evokes of out-of-control power.
• DaVarryl "Touch of Sleep" Williamson: When his fists touch you, you go to sleep, get it? That this somehow sounds so delicate an encounter adds a nice contrast.
• Marco Antonio Barrera, "The Baby-Faced Assassin": Baby-faced assassins are absolutely the worst kind.
  

I'm open to improving this list -- "The Latin Snake" will be the first to go -- so if you stumble across something better, please do inform.
















Andrew "Six Heads" Lewis was just one head shy of being nicknamed "The Hydra." Not too shabby, but I'm glad he didn't knock the guy out that bad. (from eaudrey.com)