The 250-pound heavyweight elephants in the room

We're far more likely to see Floyd Mayweather, Sr. reunited with his sanity than Wladamir and Vitali Klitschko getting into the ring with each other.

The ritual of post-fight interviews is one the fight fan knows like the back of his or her hand, and is sometimes an exercise in tedium. We know the three things that will inevitably be asked of the winner:

1. “Great performance, champ! Did you think you would be able to use x punch and y technique to beat him?”

2. “Did your opponent hurt you at any time? It seemed that x punch and y technique gave you trouble.”

3. “Who do you want to fight next, or will you give your opponent a rematch?”

Oh, and these perhaps, too:

4. (In a Floyd Mayweather or Paulie Malignaggi fight) “What round did you injure your hands for the 26th time?”

5. (In a John Ruiz fight) “Have you ever thought of selling your fight tapes to cure those with insomnia?”

In the case of the talented Klitschko brothers, question #3 is the one that always looms largest.

It was no more apparent than in older brother Vitali’s nine-round pounding of former Cruiserweight champ Juan Carlos Gomez last Saturday. No sooner had the aforementioned first two questions been asked (although #2 could have been skipped entirely) then came the third. Listening to Vitali try and come up with an opponent that excites him or anyone was akin to trying to come up with a list of honest politicians. Eventually, Klitschko just came up with a statement about how he wanted any available belts and would rule the heavyweight division with his brother.

You see, Vitali’s brother, Wladamir, basically took over the heavyweight division in his big brother’s absence. Vitali retired in early 2005, ostensibly having accomplished what he wanted to in the sport. His inspired performance in a TKO loss against Lennox Lewis 18 months prior had rebuilt his reputation back up, a reputation garnered by quitting on his stool in a fight he was winning against Chris Byrd back in 2000. He was a multiple time champion, and with sites set on becoming mayor of Kiev, Ukraine (the brother’s home country), it was time to call it a career.

As if the heavyweight division wasn’t devoid enough of contenders when Vitali (and Lewis) retired, by 2008, Wladamir was clearly heads and tails above ANYONE else left. As such decent fighters as Sam Peter, Sultan Ibragimov and Chris Byrd were defeated easily by Wlad, what was left wasn’t much more than sleep-inducing set of second-rate challengers. As if the circus-freak size of Nicolay Valuev to the over-the-hill Evander Holyfield wasn’t bad enough, possible challengers such as Ruslan Chagaev, Alexander Dimitrenko and Alexander Povetkin didn’t seem in a huge rush to get into the ring with Wlad. And even if they were, does anyone think they’d end up differently than Gomez?

So when Vitali came out of retirement last year, more than a few couldn’t understand it. By all accounts, it wasn’t for money. Who, then, was he coming out of retirement to fight? When Floyd Mayweather talks about coming back, it’s to fight Manny Pacquiao, Juan Manuel Marquez, a rematch with Ricky Hatton, any number of big matchups. With Wlad wiping out most of the heavyweight division already, it looked like Vitali would just fight whomever he could find, and that’s just what happened. First Peter (after Wlad had soundly defeated him), now Gomez, next Eddie Chambers? Maybe David Haye can instill a challenge, but he’s been a cruiserweight for years like Gomez; it would be more of a surprise than anything else if he was competitive. So who’s the challenge?

And therein lies the rub. It’s obvious the only fight that’s going to excite anyone is a fight between the Klitschko brothers themselves. And they’ve gone on the record numerous times saying they won’t fight each other, for any price. They tend to bristle even at the very idea. That’s completely understandable; they are family, and while I’m sure growing up they may have wanted to punch one another in the face from time to time, it’s a whole different game with career and brotherly love on the line. The thought of having to bust up your brother’s championship dreams as well as his face is probably too much to take.

However, as long as this stance continues, that third question is going to hang over heavyweight boxing like the proverbial elephant in the room. Until there’s some sort of viable threat to the Klitschko’s dominance, we’re all going to laugh while watching them answer that question. We’ll probably watch whomever they put in front of them for their next fights, too. But when it comes to forking over some PPV money to see a blockbuster prizefight that we’ve anticipated for months, needless to say, it won’t be featuring a Kitschko.

The Finito Five 3/18/09

This week’s Heavyweight musings from a Strawweight brain:

1. The Wrath of Khan

In my last Finito Five, I praised both Juan Manuel Marquez & Glen Johnson for defying the long odds by still being effective at 35+ without appearing to lose a step. The reason they are such rarities in the fistic world is that most fighters go the way of Marco Antonio Barrera, who at 35, looks to be at the end of his illustrious career. For any of those who saw him basically get pummeled for five rounds by a clearly rejuvenated Amir Khan in their 135-lb. clash Saturday, the Barrera who schooled Naseem Hamed in Britain eight years ago has gone the way of appreciating real estate.

Clearly, Khan has improved by leaps and bounds with trainer Freddy Roach’s tutelage, and looks nothing like the guy who was starched inside of one round by Breidis Prescott last year. But, as my co-worker pointed out so astutely, this fight resembled the Pacquiao-De La Hoya fight. Khan, like Pac-Man, was just too strong and too fast for Barrera, who looked the role of Oscar and just didn’t have any answers. Yes, the bad cut that Barrera suffered in the first round didn’t help matters, but the fight would have likely been the same by round 12. Barrera’s one of my favorite fighters of all time and was a pleasure to watch, but now it’s time to let the Amir Khan’s of the world take their place. Those of us who remember Barrera won’t want to see him go out some trial horse with a big name.

2. Trust me, stopping a fight before round four is just bollocks!

While I will admit Amir Khan deserved to win his fight over Barrera, the actions of referee Dave Parris and the ringside doctor in regards to Barrera’s cut was just ridiculous. Although Barrera suffered the nasty forehead gash in round one, it was never really examined by anybody until round four, when his face became the proverbial crimson mask (great wrestling term!). When Parris took Barrera over to have the doctor examine the cut, it was spouting blood so badly that Barrera had to keep blinking and moving his head just to be able to respond to the doctor. So how was that cut any different in round five when Parris did the same thing again and finally stopped it? Well, it wasn’t. The only difference was that with four rounds complete, the fight would go to the scorecards (with Khan getting the obvious win), instead of a no-contest had it been stopped before then. They could have stopped it in round two, it was clear the cut wasn’t going to be stopped unless the corner had stitches on them. A NC wouldn’t have taken anything away from Khan’s performance; this farce just took away from the British commission’s credibility.

3. Well, if Roy Jones thinks it’s a good idea…

Without trying to navigate the land mine-filled demilitarized zone that is boxing vs. MMA (an argument for another time, perhaps), it’s curious to see that Roy Jones’ promotional company, Square Ring, has a mixed Boxing-MMA PPV this Saturday. So far, I have read from both the boxing and MMA sides of the debate, and neither of them like it. Both argue that a fan of one sport won’t pay for the other, while RJ is banking on crossover appeal to attract fans that like both sports. I, for one, think there is a crossover appeal, much as there is with pro wrestling (WWE or TNA) and boxing, traditionally covered until the 80’s together as ring sports. The question is, how much appeal is there? My guess is that Jones vs. Omar Sheika (like he hasn’t taken enough punches already), B.J. Flores & former WWE start Bobby Lashley is NOT going to really answer that question.

4. Mijares & Maccarinelli make like the stock market

Boy, what a difference a year makes. Last year at this time, unified bantamweight champion Christian Mijares was in the top 10 pound-for-pound and Enzo Maccarinelli was headed into David Haye land looking to be the next cruiserweight sensation and possibly a future heavyweight challenge to the Klitschko brothers. Now, both have suffered two losses, with both losing this weekend, and are sinking like stones. Mijares losing to Nehomar Cermeño (who?) was bad enough, but Maccarinelli getting wiped out with one right hand by Ola Afolabi, he of six big KO’s, was really damaging. These guys need a career stimulus package, and quick!

5. Boxing Digest editorial curiosity of the month

Boxing Digest likes to tout that they are the only independent boxing magazine in circulation, which is probably true. This becomes especially apparent the way that Oscar De La Hoya sports a Ring T-shirt every other time he’s on TV these days. However, reading BD these days is like going to your crazy uncle’s house; you’re never quite sure what you’ll find in there. I can’t fathom half the time why the put what they do in their magazine. Case in point: the article in each magazine in Spanish. Why? It’s one stupid article, and the rest of the magazine is in English. If you only speak English, you can’t read it, and if you want a Spanish-language boxing mag, there’s a bunch out there already. They say, “BD travels the globe to cover the Latin boxing scene in Spanish.” So when they cover Hozumi Hasegawa’s next fight in Japan, is it going to be in Japanese? If the Klitschko’s speak English, German & Russian, do you then get to pick? I give this one 4 out of 5 Oliver McCall’s on the nuts-o-meter.

The Ghost’s cut runs deepest

Was this cut bad enough to keep Robert Guerrero from continuing his fight with Daud Yordan?

For all of us fight fans who have never actually punched for pay (or fought in the amateurs, for that matter), it’s sometimes hard to fathom what goes through a fighter’s head at any given time. Like any other sport that none of us are good enough at to ply as a trade, it’s oftentimes baffling as to why athletes do what they do during a given contest. And for any of us with less than a six pack of Schlitz (Schlitz!) in them and at least some degree of objectivity and fairness, we probably imagine that we would fare no better if we were in their shoes.

Sure, it’s easy to blame the quarterback for missing that open receiver, but could we have kept it together any better when a blitzing 280-pound linebacker was bearing down on us? The same applies to the fight game. While I remember chastising Oscar De La Hoya for abandoning his rather effective jab halfway through the Floyd Mayweather fight, I have no idea what was actually going through Oscar’s head. And since Oscar’s won a few more world titles than I have, it’s hard for me to criticize him more than beyond just a fan’s perspective. If Emmanuel Steward comes to the same conclusion, though, his pedigree as a trainer lends greater weight to his comments, even if he’s essentially saying the same thing all of us watching are.

I found myself tackling this same conundrum during Robert “Ghost” Guerrero’s 130-pound scrap against Indonesia’s Daud Yordan (wonder if Yordan’s ever fought in Borneo?) Saturday. Although the fight didn’t make it to the end of round two, it was apparent that Yordan (who I hadn’t heard of until then) was far better than both the Golden Boy Promotions & Guerrero himself likely thought, and the Ghost was in for a tough night. Just over halfway through the round, an accidental head butt initiated by Yordan cause a nasty gash over Guerrero’s right eye, and the blood was streaming down. Referee John Shorle then took him over to the corner to be examined by the doctor.

At this point, I remember thinking to myself, “that’s a bad place for a cut, too bad, it will likely alter this fight significantly.” Little did I know - and here’s where my conundrum comes in. Both the ringside doctor and Shorle appeared inclined to the let the fight continue; after all was said and done, there was a minute left in the round, and the corner would have a chance to work on the cut shortly. However, it was clear almost immediately after the cut happened that Guerrero’s body language wasn’t right. He wasn’t mad, wasn’t hopping to get back out there and fight, he looked like a guy wanting to hit the locker room.

And that’s exactly what happened. The Ghost kept repeating over and over that he couldn’t see, and even when both the doctor and referee seemed fine with letting the fight go on, Guerrero repeated again that he couldn’t see. His last complaint seemed to say, “What’s wrong with you guys? I’m trying to tell you the fight’s over!” At this point, Shorle had to stop the fight, which then became a no contest, as it was an accidental butt inside of four rounds. Of course the San Jose crowd (Guerrero’s from nearby Gilroy) went nuts after the fight was stopped, but my guess is that most of them had no idea who actually stopped the fight. Only as the week has gone on has it likely become apparent to them.

The problem is, none of us actually know what was going through Guerrero’s head at the time. Most of the press since then has vilified him for essentially quitting, knowing he might be in for a long night. It’s boxing after all, right? Boxing is where fighters are Coliseum-style gladiators that would gladly give their left ear to let the fight continue! We all fondly remember the cut up face of Arturo Gatti on numerous occasions, or Diego Corrales vehemently protesting after his fight with Jose Luis Castillo was stopped even though he had a cut that went completely through his bottom lip. It should be so easy, then, to say Guerrero failed this litmus test.

Bur what would all of us fight fans have done in the same situation? On the one hand, you could say Guerrero showed no guts, as he could have at least fought the last minute of round two, let his corner work on the cut, then if it didn’t improve by round three, beg out at that time. Furthermore, with 6,500 of his fans that paid good money in a bad economy there to see him, doesn’t he owe it to them to try and get back out there?

On the other hand, maybe he was just being pragmatic. Perhaps he just freaked out at being cut that bad for the first time, and was sure that he’d now lose the fight. Maybe he really couldn’t see, and was afraid he’d get knocked out by a punch he didn’t see coming. With his wife’s well-publicized battle against leukemia (and subsequent medical bills) echoing through his mind, maybe losing the fight and another potential big paycheck was too much of a risk. If Guerrero had said that’s why he stopped the fight, could anyone have blamed him? And for that matter, would we have done the same?

Having said that, however, the lingering memory of the situation for most boxing fans will be Guerrero acting as if he didn’t want to continue. And in the fight game, there is almost no greater transgression. Think Vitali Klitschko being vilified for quitting on his stool in a fight he was winning against Chris Byrd; it wasn’t until he battled through a face full of cuts against Lennox Lewis that he regained any measure of redemption. We still talk about Roberto Duran’s “No Mas” fight against Sugar Ray Leonard, and as great as Duran was, that fight still hangs on him like an albatross to this day. There are two things in boxing that are the most egregious sins: Cheating (as in rigging equipment) and quitting, in that order. Cheating usually is never forgiven, while quitting can be redeemable, but it normally takes time and the right opportunity.

Regardless of his reasons (and rightly or wrongly), Guerrero has broken the boxing fan’s trust in many eyes. Only time will tell if he earns it back.

The Finito Five 3/5/09

Chris John landed a whole bunch of these against Rocky Juarez, but still only came away with a draw.

This week’s Heavyweight musings from a Strawweight brain:

1. Score one for the old-timers!

I have to admit, when I see guys my age garnering impressive fistic victories, it makes my trips to the chiropractor feel a little less geriatric. So give it up for Juan Manuel Marquez & Glencoffe Johnson, both of which prove that the 38+ club (Bernard Hopkins, Director) is still alive and kicking! First, Johnson avenged one of his many previous atrociously-scored defeats Friday night in a Light Heavyweight bout against Daniel “How can I only be five months older than my brother Zab?” Judah. The 40-year old ageless one just keeps on ticking, and his work rate seems to actually be getting BETTER with age. Not to mention after each fight he vows to “keep pressin’ on as always, mon!” in that awesome vernacular of the islands. Here’s hoping that he gets the one big payday he yet deserves, but my guess is everyone in the 175-pound division will be avoiding him like the plague, as always.

As for Marquez, 38, is it time for Mexican fans to put him up there with J.C. Superstar already? Forget Lightweights, I don’t know how many fighters in any division could stand up to what Juan Diaz threw at him in the first six rounds, let alone come back and knock Diaz silly in the 9th round. He’s better than Morales or Barrera were, and many think he’s beaten Pacquiao twice already, so he may be the best pound-for-pound right now at almost 40. That’s something the others cannot say. Was there any other 135-pound fighter that Diaz would have lost to with his performance Saturday? Not likely. Watch Marquez while he’s still around, folks, because you are watching one of the greatest Mexican warriors ever.

2. That guy with two first names can fight.

After watching Featherweight Chris John somehow come out of his fight against Rocky Juarez with a draw on the undercard of Marquez-Diaz, I’m more and more inclined to believe that John’s victory over Marquez in Indonesia last year may not have been the robbery we’ve heard from some circles. John can really box, and he’s an incredibly accurate puncher; although Juarez fought his best fight in a few years, I still am not sure how all three judges found six rounds to give to Rocky. I had four, but John sure dominated the middle rounds. Maybe since this fight was in Juarez’ hometown of Houston, maybe they can take the rematch back to Borneo (John’s from Indonesia), the site of John’s victory over Marquez.

3. Where do they hold a fight in Borneo, anyway?

Maybe I should be a little more worldly (or get on worldatlas.com occasionally), but isn’t Borneo like 90% rain forest or something? It seems every time the National Geographic Channel needs to find giant lizards or a lost tribe of pygmies, they start pitching tents on some mountain there. If I’m right, I think that the remains of those hobbit people were found there, too. And you thought fan man was bad? Wait until some flying baboon jumps into Don King’s hair in the middle of the 5th round….

4. Happy to be back in Y-town!

If I’m the next middleweight invited to fight world champ Kelly Pavlik in his hometown of Youngstown, I think I’ll be like NFL teams looking at Ray Lewis and just take a pass. His win (if not that raucous crown in Y-town) over Marco Antonio Rubio a week ago last Saturday was pretty impressive, especially for a comeback fight. Like Miguel Cotto, you never know what a fighter will look like after his first setback, and Pavlik passed with flying colors. I will say one thing, however; Rubio really disappointed me; for some reason, I just expected more. Sure, he was going to be outclassed most likely, but is this the same guy that beat Enrique Ornelas and knocked out Jose Luis Zertuche? After about the second round, Rubio looked like he was just trying not to get knocked out, which of course, he eventually did. I don’t know what the strategy was going into that fight from the Rubio camp, but against Pavlik, you better come with something stronger than that. Here’s hoping Kelly and Arthur Abraham can come to some agreement soon. Who wouldn’t like that fight?

5. Undercard bout: Ray Mancini vs. English.

You can’t argue with the sheer enthusiasm of Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini when he does color commentary (as in the Pavlik fight with Mr. Smooth, Nick Charles), and he was the natural selection being Youngstown’s first fistic hero before Pavlik. However, a complete English sentence and Mancini looked to have parted ways back when he was knocking out Bobby Chacon in ‘84. Is it just me, or does it sound like Ray’s brain just wants him to get to the next thought thisfast sohedoesn'thave timetofinishwhat he'salreadysaying? Man, I was as wiped out as Rubio was at the end of 9 rounds just trying to keep up with Ray! And I still don’t know what a “stickle de move” is, either. English TKO 5.