Boxing is a business. Of course it is, all professional sports are a business and that's why they are 'professional', people are making money. No one will ever deny that professional sports are about money.
Barring gimmicks, however, professional sports make the most money when they are the most competitive and the most focused on the 'sports' over the 'professional.' Between them, Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier fought every comer for the heavyweight title during their eras. Their successes in an era of network tv coverage and competitive fights down at the corner club in nearly every big American city would sew the seeds for the modern era of fewer cards for more money and a sport where the most successful make more money than ever from the pocketbooks of pay cable while the sport as a whole brings in the smallest gates it ever has in the United States.
Clearly, if boxing is a business, it isn't a well run business. A few elite employees are raking in record paychecks while the business itself is doing comparatively poorly. It sounds like the American corporate world, doesn't it? Look at the economy and we can see where that trend ends.
Nigel Collins wrote an editorial in the current issue of The Ring magazine defending the upcoming Bernard Hopkins-Joe Calzaghe fight and the Floyd Mayweather-Oscar De La Hoya rematch. I want to say that, as a fight fan, I don't think the Hopkins-Calzaghe fight needs to be defended. The light heavyweight champion defending against the super middleweight champion is entirely legitimate, and the top light heavyweight contenders need to fight each other a bit more to prove who is really most deserving of a shot at the top spot.
On the other hand, the Mayweather-De La Hoya rematch is only defensible in terms of De La Hoya's mainstream exposure and the money it will bring in. The original Mayweather-De La Hoya fight was not defensible on any other grounds. De La Hoya hasn't done anything to deserve huge paydays against top fighters in a very long time. That awful decision against Felix Sturm should have had Sturm in the ring with Hopkins instead of De La Hoya, it didn't because as awful as it was it went De La Hoya's way and the money was there.
Collins' editorial embraces 'the money' and the business aspect of boxing in a way that is disappointing to see from the official view of 'The Bible of Boxing' and which I can't help but think goes against Collins' real feelings on the matter. Oscar De La Hoya is on the front cover of the same issue of the magazine, the back page is an advertisement for his autobiography. De La Hoya's company, Golden Boy, owns Sports and Entertainment Publications, the parent company of The Ring. When the buyout occurred, we were assured that it would in no way skew the view and content of the magazine in any way and that management was confident that Golden Boy really wanted to protect boxing's best journalism. It can be argued, very effectively, that the De La Hoya story is warranted by Oscar's mainstream appeal and that advertising space is sold to whomever will pay for it. The editorial still raises an eyebrow. It appears, in its embrace of the purely commercial aspects of the business of boxing, to defy the message of the very magazine whose official view it is supposed to express.
An article on East Side boxing, by Michael Herron, defended the rematch and Mayweather's career as a whole even more aggressively. The same article defends Mayweather's upcoming adventure into the world of professional wrestling. The article holds Floyd Mayeather Jr. and Roy Jones Jr. up as the examples of all a prize-fighter should be. Fortunately, The Ring isn't willing to go anywhere near that far.
Mayweather and Jones are gifted talents who are very possibly the most talented fighters of their generations, though in my personal view the 'best' fighter of the period bridging both of these phenomenal talents is Bernard Hopkins and the 'greatest' (greatness, as I have mentioned time and time again in this blog, is about accomplishment and legacy) was Lennox Lewis or Kostya Tszyu.
Mr. Herron suggests that professional boxing is all about the money and that there is a need for boxers to branch out of their chosen profession. He applauds Floyd Mayweather's intelligent business acumen and extols the amount of money that will be rolling in as a result of the schedule he believes to be fully formed in Mayweather's mind. Clearly, all of this is very good for Mayweather and no one believe that Floyd should not be thinking of his own interest.
At the same time, what about the interests of boxing? It is in the interest of boxing for Floyd to fight the best welterweight challengers available, as welterweight champion. In defeating Ricky Hatton, Mayweather fulfilled his duty as best pound for pound fighter in the world. He defended his championship against another undefeated champion hungry to take it from him. Good. I am glad the Hatton fight happened. However, he should now be defending his title against the best of his own division.
I understand the desire to make money, I understand the desire to protect one's health. As Joe Louis discovered to his sorrow, a great legacy won't pay the IRS. As Wilfred Benitez and Wilfredo Gomez's loved ones might testify, a great legacy won't get you out of your wheelchair to hug your family. However, Mayweather is already extremely rich and has made millions. If he truly wishes to protect his health, the best thing he could do for himself and boxing would be to retire and let a hungrier man step to the plate.
If he does not retire, as he constantly suggests he might but never seems to do, the best thing he can do for boxing is to fight the best available challengers and to fight often. Quality fights between Floyd Mayweather and Miguel Cotto and other top welterweights would do more for boxing than a hundred wrestling matches with Big Show, and be a lot less risky for his health. Joe Louis could tell Mayweather the risk of grappling with naturally much bigger men, as well.
The die-hard pro-Mayweather contingent professes total lack of understanding as to why hardcore boxing fans don't show Floyd the respect he deserves. The answer is sadly simple.
Floyd Mayweather Jr. has not shown boxing or its hardcore fans the respect they deserve.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Sometimes, I Think There's Hope
One of the reasons I established this little blog was that I sometimes seriously wonder about the quality and motivations of boxing writers. I've mentioned it from time to time before. I love the journalistic quality of The Ring, but its columnists have a tendency to irritate me in ways ranging from slight to major. Jeff Ryan gives me the impression of thinking that anyone who doesn't fight like Marvelous Marvin Hagler is a boring disgrace to the sport, but for most of his career Hagler didn't even fight like Hagler. How is everyone else supposed to compete? Ivan Goldman is a little less harsh, but he too is very quick with the 'boring' label when he doesn't like a fighter's style. Jim Bagge travels the gamut from being interesting and off-beat to being completely unreadable. Dr. Margaret Goodman's column on fighter safety never offends me, but is occasionally a tad dry and boring and I can't agree with her slightly paternalistic attitude toward the health of fighters still intellectually competent to make their own decisions. On the other hand, William Detloff's complete libertarianism on such topics as fighter safety and steroids frequently turns me off when it goes a touch far for me. Like Ryan and Goldman, as well, he can be entirely too scathing of quality fighters for whose styles he does not care. One of my favorites every month is editor in chief Nigel Collins' editorial... but in the most recent issue he defended the idea of a De La Hoya-Mayweather rematch and to some degree betrayed the ideals of his own publication by saying that not only do the business aspects of boxing come before its sporting aspects but they should. There are plenty of voices arguing the fan's perspective and the promoter's perspective, Mr. Collins' job as editor in chief of the ring is to campaign for the sporting aspect of boxing which receives far too little attention. So while The Ring is my favorite source of boxing fact and opinion, it is hardly perfect. It is the best available, but it could be better and there is other available.
Which brings us to internet writing. I use East Side Boxing to keep up with my daily and weekly fight news, but the quality of writing varies greatly. Writers range from pillars of class whose work is always top quality whether I agree with their opinions or not (Ted Sares comes immediately to mind), to guys whose obvious reason for writing on the internet and not in print is because of what their work would be used for if it were on paper (Yero Moody, and a writer whose name I can't recall who defended the system of mandatory challengers and title stripping currently in practice among the alphabet syndicates). Within that range, there's lots of varying degrees one way or the other. Even worse than the uneven quality of the writing on internet boxing sites, however, can be the tendency for such sites to release unedited promoter press announcements, which should be put in their own category or treated like advertisements, among the actual news entries. Still, the internet is the only way to get boxing news immediately on a daily or weekly basis.
Which brings me back to Mr. William Detloff. Mr. Detloff writes a weekly column for The Ring's website, entitled The Ring Update. I read it every week, sometimes with great approval and sometimes with great umbrage but rarely with disinterest. However, this week, he wrote a commentary upon the lightweight championship of the world (and in doing so, about the meaning of the word 'championship' in the larger sense) which cannot be stated and restated enough. His defense of the true meaning of 'champion' is evidence of why I still read and subscribe to The Ring, even though it's not perfect and there's more available, despite buyouts and Jim Bagge: the magazine and its writers defend the sporting and athletic aspect of boxing as a competition between opposing athletes and advocate for a fair field of competition.
Now, Mr. Collins, if you would please lock Mr. De La Hoya out of your office when writing editorials and remember how you really feel about boxing as a sport I would greatly appreciate it.
Which brings us to internet writing. I use East Side Boxing to keep up with my daily and weekly fight news, but the quality of writing varies greatly. Writers range from pillars of class whose work is always top quality whether I agree with their opinions or not (Ted Sares comes immediately to mind), to guys whose obvious reason for writing on the internet and not in print is because of what their work would be used for if it were on paper (Yero Moody, and a writer whose name I can't recall who defended the system of mandatory challengers and title stripping currently in practice among the alphabet syndicates). Within that range, there's lots of varying degrees one way or the other. Even worse than the uneven quality of the writing on internet boxing sites, however, can be the tendency for such sites to release unedited promoter press announcements, which should be put in their own category or treated like advertisements, among the actual news entries. Still, the internet is the only way to get boxing news immediately on a daily or weekly basis.
Which brings me back to Mr. William Detloff. Mr. Detloff writes a weekly column for The Ring's website, entitled The Ring Update. I read it every week, sometimes with great approval and sometimes with great umbrage but rarely with disinterest. However, this week, he wrote a commentary upon the lightweight championship of the world (and in doing so, about the meaning of the word 'championship' in the larger sense) which cannot be stated and restated enough. His defense of the true meaning of 'champion' is evidence of why I still read and subscribe to The Ring, even though it's not perfect and there's more available, despite buyouts and Jim Bagge: the magazine and its writers defend the sporting and athletic aspect of boxing as a competition between opposing athletes and advocate for a fair field of competition.
Now, Mr. Collins, if you would please lock Mr. De La Hoya out of your office when writing editorials and remember how you really feel about boxing as a sport I would greatly appreciate it.
Size In Boxing III: The Myth of the Super-Heavyweight
During the 1990s there was a rising theory among many boxing writers, fans, and television commentators that the heavyweight division had crossed some line of demarcation into an era unlike any other. Lennox Lewis, Michael Grant, and the Klitschko brothers created the impression among many that the kinds of fighters competing in the heavyweight division was going to change drastically: tall, quick, muscular multi-talented athletes were going to replace the typical heavyweight fighter of the past. In addition to the success of Lewis, the Klitschko brothers, and the pre-Lennox Lewis Grant, this impression was helped along by the rising weight of the average heavyweight fighter. By first couple years of the 21st century this theory was solidly implanted into the mind of the boxing public by Lennox Lewis's dominant wins over Mike Tyson and David Tua and it has been an accepted factoid ever since.
'A factoid is a spurious (unverified, incorrect, or invented) "fact" intended to create or prolong public exposure or to manipulate public opinion. It appears in the Oxford English Dictionary as "something which becomes accepted as fact, although it may not be true", namely a speculation or an assumption. The term was coined by Norman Mailer in his 1973 biography of Marilyn Monroe. Mailer described a factoid as "facts which have no existence before appearing in a magazine or newspaper", and created the word by combining the word fact and the ending -oid to mean "like a fact".'
Dictionary.com
The first 'super-heavyweight' to win the heavyweight championship of the world was Jess Williard in 1915. He weighed 238 1/2 lbs for the fight and stood 6'6 1/2". Though he was considered less talented than Jack Johnson, the man he beat, he won by virtue of size, strength, and physical conditioning. He wore Johnson down over 26 grueling rounds, despite being outboxed in 25 of them, and knocked Johnson out. Everyone knows Willard's story after that; or rather, everyone knows that he was a footnote in the stories of Jack Johnson and Jack Dempsey. The 6'1 Jack Dempsey destroyed Willard by absolutely brutal 3 round TKO. Willard was down seven times in the first round alone.
A drought in big heavyweights followed. Most people in boxing thought that big heavyweights were too awkward and uncoordinated to be any good, and no big men emerged to counter that thought. Primo Carnera was the next 'super-heavyweight' of prominence, and he was viewed as a joke whose fights were fixed and who never learned how to punch properly. He won his big fights by physically mauling smaller men, who gave up when injured. Light-heavyweight great Tommy Loughran lost to Carnera because of a broken foot, Carnera won his title fight with Jack Sharkey when Sharkey broke at least one (and possibly both) hands trying to hit Carnera in the body. Carnera, of course, was destroyed in his most famous fights by much smaller men: Max Baer knocked him out to take his world championship and Joe Louis beat him into hamburger in the fight that established Louis as a great contender. Carnera's resemblances to modern day fighters Audley Harrison and Nicolai Valuev are hard to ignore. He was a highly protected fighter of limited talent built for big paydays, who under-performed his hype regularly and folded against quality opposition.
Louis, Carnera's conqueror, fought quite a few bigger men in addition to Carnera. Buddy Baer and Abe Simon were also as big as today's super-heavyweights, and Louis did to them as he did to Carnera. From the Louis era on, 'super-heavyweights' have been the occasional presence but rarely a huge success.
The seeming dominance of bigger men in the 1990s was based primarily on two things: 1.) Lennox Lewis, by recovering from his loss to McCall and becoming a complete fighter, proved that a big man could learn to be a good boxer and 2.) the weights of heavyweights had been rising across the board in the 80s and 90s.
When one closely examines number two, however, one finds it's not because modern heavyweights are bigger, more powerful, and more athletic. It's because of two factors: the rise of weight lifting in boxing training and the decline of classical boxing training methods at heavyweight. In the 80s, many talented heavyweights simply didn't put the time in on the road and with the jump rope. An increasing number of bloated, out-of-shape heavyweight fighters appeared on the scene and this trend has never completely stopped. Worse, the belief that size matters more than anything has led to fighters whose best weights would be in the 200-230 range coming in from 230-250 in order to prove they are 'big enough.'
Most serious heavyweight have ranged from 6' to 6'3 and weighed from 190 - 230. The former hasn't really changed. Particularly small fighers (Tommy Burns and Mickey Walker in the past, James Toney more recently) have made their appearance. So have particularly big fighters. They aren't new. Look at the top ten fighters at The Ring's updated rankings on the internet, at heavyweight. There are precisely four 'super-heavyweights' on that list: Vladimir Klitschko (1), Nicolai Valuev (4), Vladimir Virchis (8), and Tony Thompson (9). One of these four, Nicolai Valuev, has already been exposed once, is likely to be exposed again when the protection is lowered for the big money once more, and is only on the list because he's held an alphabet title and won a pretty bad decision over John Ruiz. Thompson's sole loss is to a much smaller man, Erik Kirkland. Virchis' sole loss is also to a smaller man, #3 contender in the world Ruslan Chagaev, who stands 6'1. Vladimir Klitschko is the best fighter in the world and I don't believe anyone else on the top ten can beat him on his best night: but he has lost three times and one of those losses was to 6'2 Lamon Brewster. Valuev's sole loss, like Virchis', was to Chagaev.
Clearly, even in this age of modern 'super-heavyweights', smaller men can beat bigger men and size isn't enough to dominate the division. The other six contenders on the list are:
2.) Sam Peter - 6'0 1/2
3.) Ruslan Chagaev - 6'1
5.) Alexander Povetkin - 6'2
6.) Sultan Ibragimov - 6'2
7.) Oleg Maskaev - 6'3
10.) John Ruiz - 6'2
As noted above, Chagaev has beaten two much bigger men who are both on this list: Virchis and Valuev.
But, you say, Sam Peter is huge! It's not just about height!
Sam Peter's best fighting weight is just under 230. He weighs in at such monstrous weights because he doesn't work hard in the gym. He doesn't run, he doesn't jump rope. His atrocious stamina has been on display a couple of times: when he was totally outboxed by James Toney and when he was unable to generate serious offense against Vladimir Klitschko for more than a punch at a time. He knocked Klitschko down three times with big shots, but was totally outboxed in every other round and for much of the time in the rounds he scored knockdowns. He's not a big heavyweight. He's slightly larger than a prime Tyson, naturally, and if he had sense he'd train hard and come in slightly larger than a prime Tyson.
So even in this 'modern era of big heavyweights', the majority of the top heavyweights aren't that big. The top heavyweight in the world is a big man and there are three other highly ranked big men, but the second and third heavyweights in the world aren't even 6'2! Ruslan Chagaev, who does have good training habits, comes into the ring under 230 more often than not and has never reached 240, let alone topped it.
So the argument for this 'new era of modern super-heavyweights' comes down to Lennox Lewis (an all time great), the Klitschko brothers (a couple of good, if inconsistent, fighters), and a few guys here and there who have spells as contenders. Most of the guys at the top are around the same size they've always been, packing more pounds because of either weight-lifting, bad training, or both. Give Joe Louis some weights and a nutrition plan and he'd come in at 220 if that's what his corner thought best. And he'd do to Nicolai Valuev what he did to Primo Carnera. The argument in favor of the super-heavyweight is shaky at best.
'A factoid is a spurious (unverified, incorrect, or invented) "fact" intended to create or prolong public exposure or to manipulate public opinion. It appears in the Oxford English Dictionary as "something which becomes accepted as fact, although it may not be true", namely a speculation or an assumption. The term was coined by Norman Mailer in his 1973 biography of Marilyn Monroe. Mailer described a factoid as "facts which have no existence before appearing in a magazine or newspaper", and created the word by combining the word fact and the ending -oid to mean "like a fact".'
Dictionary.com
The first 'super-heavyweight' to win the heavyweight championship of the world was Jess Williard in 1915. He weighed 238 1/2 lbs for the fight and stood 6'6 1/2". Though he was considered less talented than Jack Johnson, the man he beat, he won by virtue of size, strength, and physical conditioning. He wore Johnson down over 26 grueling rounds, despite being outboxed in 25 of them, and knocked Johnson out. Everyone knows Willard's story after that; or rather, everyone knows that he was a footnote in the stories of Jack Johnson and Jack Dempsey. The 6'1 Jack Dempsey destroyed Willard by absolutely brutal 3 round TKO. Willard was down seven times in the first round alone.
A drought in big heavyweights followed. Most people in boxing thought that big heavyweights were too awkward and uncoordinated to be any good, and no big men emerged to counter that thought. Primo Carnera was the next 'super-heavyweight' of prominence, and he was viewed as a joke whose fights were fixed and who never learned how to punch properly. He won his big fights by physically mauling smaller men, who gave up when injured. Light-heavyweight great Tommy Loughran lost to Carnera because of a broken foot, Carnera won his title fight with Jack Sharkey when Sharkey broke at least one (and possibly both) hands trying to hit Carnera in the body. Carnera, of course, was destroyed in his most famous fights by much smaller men: Max Baer knocked him out to take his world championship and Joe Louis beat him into hamburger in the fight that established Louis as a great contender. Carnera's resemblances to modern day fighters Audley Harrison and Nicolai Valuev are hard to ignore. He was a highly protected fighter of limited talent built for big paydays, who under-performed his hype regularly and folded against quality opposition.
Louis, Carnera's conqueror, fought quite a few bigger men in addition to Carnera. Buddy Baer and Abe Simon were also as big as today's super-heavyweights, and Louis did to them as he did to Carnera. From the Louis era on, 'super-heavyweights' have been the occasional presence but rarely a huge success.
The seeming dominance of bigger men in the 1990s was based primarily on two things: 1.) Lennox Lewis, by recovering from his loss to McCall and becoming a complete fighter, proved that a big man could learn to be a good boxer and 2.) the weights of heavyweights had been rising across the board in the 80s and 90s.
When one closely examines number two, however, one finds it's not because modern heavyweights are bigger, more powerful, and more athletic. It's because of two factors: the rise of weight lifting in boxing training and the decline of classical boxing training methods at heavyweight. In the 80s, many talented heavyweights simply didn't put the time in on the road and with the jump rope. An increasing number of bloated, out-of-shape heavyweight fighters appeared on the scene and this trend has never completely stopped. Worse, the belief that size matters more than anything has led to fighters whose best weights would be in the 200-230 range coming in from 230-250 in order to prove they are 'big enough.'
Most serious heavyweight have ranged from 6' to 6'3 and weighed from 190 - 230. The former hasn't really changed. Particularly small fighers (Tommy Burns and Mickey Walker in the past, James Toney more recently) have made their appearance. So have particularly big fighters. They aren't new. Look at the top ten fighters at The Ring's updated rankings on the internet, at heavyweight. There are precisely four 'super-heavyweights' on that list: Vladimir Klitschko (1), Nicolai Valuev (4), Vladimir Virchis (8), and Tony Thompson (9). One of these four, Nicolai Valuev, has already been exposed once, is likely to be exposed again when the protection is lowered for the big money once more, and is only on the list because he's held an alphabet title and won a pretty bad decision over John Ruiz. Thompson's sole loss is to a much smaller man, Erik Kirkland. Virchis' sole loss is also to a smaller man, #3 contender in the world Ruslan Chagaev, who stands 6'1. Vladimir Klitschko is the best fighter in the world and I don't believe anyone else on the top ten can beat him on his best night: but he has lost three times and one of those losses was to 6'2 Lamon Brewster. Valuev's sole loss, like Virchis', was to Chagaev.
Clearly, even in this age of modern 'super-heavyweights', smaller men can beat bigger men and size isn't enough to dominate the division. The other six contenders on the list are:
2.) Sam Peter - 6'0 1/2
3.) Ruslan Chagaev - 6'1
5.) Alexander Povetkin - 6'2
6.) Sultan Ibragimov - 6'2
7.) Oleg Maskaev - 6'3
10.) John Ruiz - 6'2
As noted above, Chagaev has beaten two much bigger men who are both on this list: Virchis and Valuev.
But, you say, Sam Peter is huge! It's not just about height!
Sam Peter's best fighting weight is just under 230. He weighs in at such monstrous weights because he doesn't work hard in the gym. He doesn't run, he doesn't jump rope. His atrocious stamina has been on display a couple of times: when he was totally outboxed by James Toney and when he was unable to generate serious offense against Vladimir Klitschko for more than a punch at a time. He knocked Klitschko down three times with big shots, but was totally outboxed in every other round and for much of the time in the rounds he scored knockdowns. He's not a big heavyweight. He's slightly larger than a prime Tyson, naturally, and if he had sense he'd train hard and come in slightly larger than a prime Tyson.
So even in this 'modern era of big heavyweights', the majority of the top heavyweights aren't that big. The top heavyweight in the world is a big man and there are three other highly ranked big men, but the second and third heavyweights in the world aren't even 6'2! Ruslan Chagaev, who does have good training habits, comes into the ring under 230 more often than not and has never reached 240, let alone topped it.
So the argument for this 'new era of modern super-heavyweights' comes down to Lennox Lewis (an all time great), the Klitschko brothers (a couple of good, if inconsistent, fighters), and a few guys here and there who have spells as contenders. Most of the guys at the top are around the same size they've always been, packing more pounds because of either weight-lifting, bad training, or both. Give Joe Louis some weights and a nutrition plan and he'd come in at 220 if that's what his corner thought best. And he'd do to Nicolai Valuev what he did to Primo Carnera. The argument in favor of the super-heavyweight is shaky at best.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
The Third Time's The Charm: Vasquez-Marquez III
This was a beautiful fight. There was a lot of cautionary talk going into Vasquez-Marquez III about how third fights were usually more tactical and less all-action and we shouldn't necessarily expect to see a knockout. They were right that there was no knockout and the fight was a little more tactical than the first two battles, but it was certainly all action. The first clinches didn't come until late in the fight, all in the last three rounds, when a tired Marquez grabbed onto Vazquez when he began to need frequent breaks from the defending champion's relentless power punching.
I saw the early rounds of the fight a bit different from Al Bernstein, who said he had Marquez pitching a shutout going into the 4th round where Marquez cracked Vasquez with a good straight right and then floored the champion with a combination. I called the first round even, I thought Marquez' job and movement were excellent but that both men were punching well and that Vasquez was doing enough body work to hold his own and that the hard left hook-right cross combo he used to stun Marquez into the last stretch of the round otherwise even would have won it for him had Marquez not managed to land a combination before the bell. As it was, I scored round one 10-10. I gave round two to Vasquez, he landed the harder shots throughout and began the fight-long investment in really good bodywork that would ultimately win the fight for him.
As a result, following Marquez's great boxing round in round three, I had the fight even going into the fourth round; I didn't have Marquez ahead by a commanding lead the way Bernstein did. The knockdown in the fourth, rather than establish the momentum of the fight clearly in Marquez's favor, woke Vasquez up. He fought hard for the remainder of the fourth, convincing Marquez he was not on his way out, and then solidly won the fifth and sixth rounds by jabbing his way in, throwing the short straight right, and going to the body and coming back upstairs with both fists. He was the cleaner, more effective puncher through both rounds and evened up the score cards again. Then Marquez punched back when he most needed to in the seventh, always answering back in every exchange. I had the round even when Marquez won it with his closing flurry.
On my card, however, that was Marquez's last gasp. From the eigth on, Vasquez used the pattern of the fifth and sixth rounds again. He jabbed into right hand range, threw a tight right hand, and went to the body on the inside. His investments in such bodywork in the earlier rounds began to pay dividends in the late rounds. Marquez was there for him to hit. Marquez had great moments in every one of these rounds, but was always put back in his place by Vasquez's hard punches and steady attack. Marquez came close to punching himself into an even round in the tenth, but a point deduction for low blows (none of which were flagrant, but happened often enough over the course of the fight to justify the docking at this point) made it a 10-9 round for Vasquez on my card instead. Going into the championship rounds, Vasquez dominated the eleventh round and scored a knockdown into the twelfth when the ropes held Marquez up.
The judges were divided in the end. Max De Luca had it 114-111 for Vasquez, the most reasonable score of the batch. James Jen Kin scored it 113-112 for Vasquez, enough to give him the split decision win, but the fight honestly didn't look that close to me. Vasquez dominated the late rounds clearly. The real boner, however, was Tom Kaczmarek's ridiculous score of 114-111 for Marquez. If one were to give Marquez every round that was difficult to score, I could see him eking out something razor thin, but he didn't win by three points. At all. I scored the fight 116-111 Vasquez, off Showtime, the two extra points over De Luca's card likely from the rounds I called even.
This was a great fight. Vasquez won it solidly. I had it even after the first six. Of the last six, I gave Marquez the seventh and he was competitive enough in round 10 that I only gave it to Vasquez because of the point deduction. I don't see any way or reason to give the eighth, ninth, or eleventh round to Marquez. Marquez hands on the rope were the only thing keeping him from tasting canvas in the twelfth, and two more punches Vasquez landed while he was holding himself up would have sent him to the deck if they hadn't sent him to the turnbuckle. So I don't see any reason to call the knockdown anything but legitimate.
The shame is that voices are sure to be raised calling this decision controversial. Marquez insisted, in his post-fight interview, that he was not knocked down and that he won the fight by at least two points. No great fighter thinks he lost a fight in which he finished on his feet and fought his best fight, but Marquez was wrong. He lost this fight by at least the three points Max De Luca gave to Vasquez, possibly by as many as the five I gave to Vasquez. The cries of controversy sounded will only be believed by hardcore Marquez partisans and by those with a financial interest in his next fight.
However, if the mistaken outcry of controversy brings about a fourth fight between these guys then I won't complain. I'd love to see that again.
I saw the early rounds of the fight a bit different from Al Bernstein, who said he had Marquez pitching a shutout going into the 4th round where Marquez cracked Vasquez with a good straight right and then floored the champion with a combination. I called the first round even, I thought Marquez' job and movement were excellent but that both men were punching well and that Vasquez was doing enough body work to hold his own and that the hard left hook-right cross combo he used to stun Marquez into the last stretch of the round otherwise even would have won it for him had Marquez not managed to land a combination before the bell. As it was, I scored round one 10-10. I gave round two to Vasquez, he landed the harder shots throughout and began the fight-long investment in really good bodywork that would ultimately win the fight for him.
As a result, following Marquez's great boxing round in round three, I had the fight even going into the fourth round; I didn't have Marquez ahead by a commanding lead the way Bernstein did. The knockdown in the fourth, rather than establish the momentum of the fight clearly in Marquez's favor, woke Vasquez up. He fought hard for the remainder of the fourth, convincing Marquez he was not on his way out, and then solidly won the fifth and sixth rounds by jabbing his way in, throwing the short straight right, and going to the body and coming back upstairs with both fists. He was the cleaner, more effective puncher through both rounds and evened up the score cards again. Then Marquez punched back when he most needed to in the seventh, always answering back in every exchange. I had the round even when Marquez won it with his closing flurry.
On my card, however, that was Marquez's last gasp. From the eigth on, Vasquez used the pattern of the fifth and sixth rounds again. He jabbed into right hand range, threw a tight right hand, and went to the body on the inside. His investments in such bodywork in the earlier rounds began to pay dividends in the late rounds. Marquez was there for him to hit. Marquez had great moments in every one of these rounds, but was always put back in his place by Vasquez's hard punches and steady attack. Marquez came close to punching himself into an even round in the tenth, but a point deduction for low blows (none of which were flagrant, but happened often enough over the course of the fight to justify the docking at this point) made it a 10-9 round for Vasquez on my card instead. Going into the championship rounds, Vasquez dominated the eleventh round and scored a knockdown into the twelfth when the ropes held Marquez up.
The judges were divided in the end. Max De Luca had it 114-111 for Vasquez, the most reasonable score of the batch. James Jen Kin scored it 113-112 for Vasquez, enough to give him the split decision win, but the fight honestly didn't look that close to me. Vasquez dominated the late rounds clearly. The real boner, however, was Tom Kaczmarek's ridiculous score of 114-111 for Marquez. If one were to give Marquez every round that was difficult to score, I could see him eking out something razor thin, but he didn't win by three points. At all. I scored the fight 116-111 Vasquez, off Showtime, the two extra points over De Luca's card likely from the rounds I called even.
This was a great fight. Vasquez won it solidly. I had it even after the first six. Of the last six, I gave Marquez the seventh and he was competitive enough in round 10 that I only gave it to Vasquez because of the point deduction. I don't see any way or reason to give the eighth, ninth, or eleventh round to Marquez. Marquez hands on the rope were the only thing keeping him from tasting canvas in the twelfth, and two more punches Vasquez landed while he was holding himself up would have sent him to the deck if they hadn't sent him to the turnbuckle. So I don't see any reason to call the knockdown anything but legitimate.
The shame is that voices are sure to be raised calling this decision controversial. Marquez insisted, in his post-fight interview, that he was not knocked down and that he won the fight by at least two points. No great fighter thinks he lost a fight in which he finished on his feet and fought his best fight, but Marquez was wrong. He lost this fight by at least the three points Max De Luca gave to Vasquez, possibly by as many as the five I gave to Vasquez. The cries of controversy sounded will only be believed by hardcore Marquez partisans and by those with a financial interest in his next fight.
However, if the mistaken outcry of controversy brings about a fourth fight between these guys then I won't complain. I'd love to see that again.
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