Will the son of JC Superstar ever fight a dangerous opponent, or is it just going to be Butterbean-level of opposition forever?This week’s Heavyweight musings from an April Fool:
1. Getting plastered with Capetillo & Margarito
For those who have continued to make excuses for the actions of welterweight Antonio Margarito & his trainer Javier Capetillo, you can feel free to cease and desist anytime. News reports coming out of California last week have said that the California Department of Justice has examined Margarito’s hand wraps from prior to January’s fight with Shane Mosley, and guess what? Looks like there was plaster of Paris in there! Well, actually, they described it as having sulfur & calcium in the wraps (these two when mixed with water or sweat form plaster of Paris), so unless Margarito was helping his son with a chemistry experiment just prior fight time, someone was Marga-cheat-ing!
In all seriousness, though, this is an absolutely unforgivable breach of conduct by Capetillo, at the very least. One only needs to remember Panama Lewis taking padding out of Luis Resto’s gloves when he fought Billy Collins, Jr. back in the 80’s to see what something like this can do. For however long he loaded Margarito’s gloves, Capetillo must have known the risk he was putting Margarito’s opponents in, and it looks like he just didn’t give a crap. That is the most horrifying aspect of all this, and Capetillo should [I]never[/I] work in a ring ever again. As for Margarito, maybe he didn’t know what specifically was in the wraps, but he had to know it was something other fighters didn’t use. If he was truly unaware of exactly what Capetillo was doing, he ought to be furious with his ex-trainer and come clean. At the very least, Margarito now needs to serve whatever length the suspension will be. No Tijuana fights, no appeals, nothing. Show some contrition knowing you’re lucky not to have permanently injured any of your past opponents.
2. We’ll always have Paris
Speaking of which, why does Paris get to name plaster? I know it was invented there, but doesn’t that seem kind of arrogant (insert French joke here)? I mean, what else is named this way? Cement was first made in Britain, but they didn’t call it cement of Liverpool or concrete of Cardiff! And if that is the case, why are they French fries and not fries of French? As I was doing some research, the word plaster is generally meant as plaster of Paris, so I have no idea why they even call it that. Besides, it’s kind of a wimpy name for Mexican fighter to use anyway; plaster of Chiapas sounds like something a true Mexican would use!
3. JC Jr. takes the Butterbean route
While this is likely to tick off half of Mexico, this Julio Cesar Chavez, Jr. barnstorming tour really needs to end, soon. While his decision win over Luciano Cuello Saturday in their junior middleweight clash was impressive enough, how long will it be before Bob Arum puts him in there with someone dangerous enough to beat him? And don’t give me the “Matt Vanda almost beat him” argument, Vanda’s performance against John Duddy a month ago should have put that to rest. Sure, he can headline Top Rank PPV cards against middling opposition until the end of the Mayan calendar, but this is starting to smack of when Arum was putting Butterbean on every other card in the 90’s. He knew Butterbean couldn’t beat a real heavyweight, so he just fed him club fighters knowing the fans would like eventual KO. No one took the ‘Bean seriously, either. For JC Jr., this will be his fate unless he decides to step it up and not play it so safe. Making money is great and all, but eventually you have to take a risk to make some impact.
4. Is Andre Dirrell a vampire?
That may be a question to which we may never know the answer, but Dirrell, a super middleweight prospect from Flint, Michigan, can sure suck the life out of a room. What an enigma he is. He shows flashes of completely awesome brilliance in the first round against overmatched Derrick Findley last Friday, then absolutely coasts for five more rounds until Findley’s corner stopped the fight. Mind you, Findley was throwing almost no punches back the whole time. I would like to think that Findley’s people were just protecting their fighter, but half of me believes they stopped it because they were as bored as the rest of us watching were. Why Dirrell would throw so few meaningful punches after demonstrating he could land them at will in the first round is beyond me. He’s done this before, though. The funniest part was listening to the energy just draining from Showtime’s Nick Charles as the rounds wore on. By the end of the fight, Slick Nick sounded like he needed a nap. Dirrell needs to face someone that’s going to make him fight all ten rounds or he runs the risk of entering John Ruiz territory.
5. Another Olympic hopeful
I finally got around to watching that bloodfest known as the Joey Gilbert-Jesse Brinkley super middleweight fight from six weeks ago. The post fight press said that Gilbert ran most of the fight. Let me tell you, I haven’t seen running like that since Usain Bolt was scorching the field in Beijing in the 200 meters. Gilbert literally galloped around the ring for five rounds until Brinkley cracked him with such a good right hand it turned his face into Carmen Basillio instantaneously. It was only after Gilbert’s nose was broken and he was bleeding on his trunks, on Brinkley and everyone in the first three rows that he actually started to stand and fight (mental note: if Dirrell is actually a vampire, he should probably never fight Gilbert). Maybe if boxing doesn’t work out, Gilbert could run the 800 meters in London by 2012?
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