Rios vs Alvarado II: Soul-cleansing violence and the blood of boxing

There was a spot just behind the forward-leaning right glove of Mike Alvarado's guard that, in the earliest rounds of Saturday night's contest, may as well have had a bullseye painted on it.

His opponent, the heavy-fisted, iron-jawed Brandon Rios, aimed his left hook at that spot every time he was close enough, and one couldn't help but wince every time he torqued it around Alvarado's hand with brutal affect. He hurt Alvarado badly with a stiff jab in the second, and for a minute it looked like the fight might end earlier than it did the first time the two met in October of 2012, when Rios stopped him in the seventh.

"Mile High Mike," as the Denver-native Alvarado is called, would not be so easily dispatched, though. Smiling and grinning through the worst of Rios' barrage - whistling in the dark, some might say, but still - he came back in the later rounds, moving and boxing with the clean footwork that gave him his best (and maybe, only) chance at beating the fearsome puncher.

His movement confounded Rios, kept him off-balance, and wouldn't let him land anything more than a one or two-punch combo. No combinations meant few openings. Few openings meant that Rios' city-wall-shaking left hook stayed in its holster.

All the while, Alvarado strafed him with Diego Corrales-style looping right hands that whipped the Californian's head to-and-fro and dragged attention away from his own face, which was a swollen, bloody mess by the final bell.

One wound up with the interim WBO super-lightweight belt. Both went to the hospital. Neither had serious injuries. Everyone - and I mean everyone - won.

Too many times do boxing fans (casual or otherwise) walk away from a much-hyped fight with a sense of disappointment, a lackluster apathy that drains the energy from a sport built solely upon the electricity inherent to a good brawl. Too many times do we fork over too much money to watch men who care too little move too much and take too few chances. But once in a while, we're reminded why we love it. Saturday night was why we love it.

Welterweight champ Timothy Bradley put it succinctly afterwards when he called the affair a "bloody war" that saw "both fighters put their lives on the line."

It wasn't just hyperbole. When a man's face - inflated with blood and decorated with a scalpel cut over the left eye that looks like it's going to make the whole thing burst - looks like Mike Alvarado's did, and when you see Brandon Rios take flush shots that would lay low lesser men, have no doubt that there are indeed lives on the line.

It was all of the black beauty of this sport, rolled up into one night. And boxing, which so often likes to jam its own hand in the garbage disposal just because it feels so good when it stops, didn't fuck it up. No $70 pricetag, no anti-climactic ending, no shaking your head at 12 a.m. and wondering, "Why do I even watch?"

Fights like this are the lifeblood pumping through every vein of the sport. They lend inspiration to every amateur who spends his Friday night with his head tight against the side of a heavy bag instead of a bottle of whiskey, every kid shadowboxing in the mirror pretending he's Rocky. They create new boxing fans instead of disgusting the old ones, and build legends instead of destroying them.

Fights like this, as Roy Jones Jr. said, are what movies are made of. Fights like this blow MMA out of the water.

And we cannot forget that men like Brandon Rios and Mike Alvarado are the ones who make this sport what it is, even when "what it is" might not always seem clear. It's not Floyd Mayweather and his rap sheet or Manny Pacquaio and his swarms of hangers-on, not David Haye and his bluster or Wladimir Klitschko and his overwhelming ... prudence. It's the simple, brutal violence that cleanses the soul and reminds us just how brave some men are.

There will, inevitably, be a rubber match between these two; after 19 rounds of carnage, it's only right that it, of course, happen again. When it does, take a second to truly appreciate the lengths to which these men are going to in the name of sport and victory; not many will willingly hasten their own deaths by fighting with reckless abandon and declaring, "Fortune, it is you I follow!"

In reality, that's what these two are doing. And we the fans are lucky to be watching.

http://www.badlefthook.com/2013/4/1/4169610/rios-vs-alvarado-ii-soul-cleansing-violence-blood-boxing

Mayweather - Pacquaio remains only worthwhile mega-fight left

By Steve Janoski: It was a bizarre ending, one that could only come during a Floyd Mayweather fight: a kiss on the cheek, a touch of the gloves, and a ruthless knockout that will soon make its way onto the YouTube highlight reels.

And if Mayweather taught us anything, it was what Arturo Gatti and Shane Mosley already learned in their respective fights with the champ — if you’re in the squared circle with Floyd Mayweather, expect to get hit. Don’t talk, don’t hug, don’t look to the ref, and certainly don’t kiss. You’re here to fight. Young Ortiz learned this the hard way, and it is doubtful that he will “space out” at any time during the remainder of his career.

Of course, the ending of this fight has given Mayweather’s haters more ammunition than they could ever possibly want, and the fighter’s recent statements that he’d be willing to grant Ortiz a rematch only if he defeats fellow welterweight Andre Berto again have made the boxing world scratch its collective head.

That first fight, which Ortiz won in April, was a banger, no doubt, maybe even a “Fight of the Year” candidate. But the time for a rematch has passed — too much has happened since the first match.

Furthermore, Mayweather’s use of a Berto fight as some sort of measuring stick for worthiness is laughable, and it could make one ponder why Mayweather doesn’t want to immediately sign on for a rematch. Could the hustler be trying to sign a bigger, better fight, one that could possibly be the most momentous of the last 15 years, with a certain Filipino superstar?

Relax, I’m kidding.

But regardless, something else is at play here. The controversial nature of Floyd’s victory might normally warrant some kind of rematch, but those who understand boxing realized early on that Ortiz was totally outclassed and in trouble early, and there was only one possible outcome.

Ortiz, quite simply, deserves no rematch with Mayweather. He showed the world on Sept. 17 exactly what he was — a physically gifted but psychologically shattered individual who withers and fades under the heat of boxing’s brightest lights.

Some of the men who pull on the gloves are truly warriors, but others just like to play them on TV. Between his conduct in the Maidana fight and his throwing of the most blatant head-butt in the history of the sport during the Mayweather fight, Ortiz has showed that he belongs in the company of the latter. Nobody aside from that fighter’s most faithful of fans will want to see him back on the greatest of stages with the greatest of fighters.

There has also been some talk about Mayweather-Berto occurring instead, which is interesting only because Mayweather has not fought him yet. Berto, however, remains a fighter so unpolished that he was continually battered by Ortiz. Although he has the proverbial puncher’s chance, many of the 42 men that Mayweather has unceremoniously dismissed had that same chance and failed to capitalize on it. It’s doubtful Berto would be any different.

Even Oscar De La Hoya has joined the fray, and hinted last week that he might be tempted to take off his heels and make some sort of ill-advised comeback to fight the champ. However, the idea of De La Hoya and Mayweather getting back in the ring to repeat their May 2007 snoozefest appeals to most fans about as much as the idea of paying $60 to watch it does.

Unfortunately though, there are not many other fights available at welterweight for Mayweather, aside from the one great fight that neither he nor Manny Pacquiao seem all that intent on making (much to the chagrin of the boxing world.)

I won’t lie — they had me fooled initially, especially when they both signed on to fight the only boxers out there that somewhat emulate the other; Ortiz, a fast, strong southpaw with power in both hands, and Juan Manuel Marquez, a genius counterpuncher whose best attributes are his ring smarts and straight right hand. It appeared that Mayweather and Pacquaio might be sharpening their skills with risks just large enough to whet the public’s appetite for the mega-fight before finally signing on.

But, if Mayweather’s words are any indication, that fight is no closer to being made than it was at any time in the past two years. This in itself is a kick in the teeth to boxing’s most loyal fans, most of whom who sit by and watch helplessly as their brutally corrupt sport slowly suffocates itself under the weight of ego and money.

Honestly, both of these men could afford to take a page from one fighter they both knocked out: Ricky Hatton.

Regardless of what fans think about his boxing skill or career legacy, the Englishman who had “Pride in Battle” inked across his pale back was always, always looking to fight the best, even if that meant moving out of his weight class or taking a smaller share of the purse to do it.

What Hatton recognized — and I wonder if these two do — is that there’s but a small window during which one can achieve true greatness in this game. And that window, for both of these aging greats, is quickly closing.

Article posted on 02.10.2011



http://www.eastsideboxing.com/news.php?p=29420&more=1

Destruction of Mosley proves Mayweather-Pacquiao is the only fight left

By Steve Janoski: When Marvin Hagler and John Mugabi fought on March 10, 1986, one man watched the match from ringside, drinking beer where the celebrities sit but still managing to hold an acute sense of interest in the bout’s result.

Hagler won the grand battle in the eleventh with a series of right hands that floored the man they called the “The Beast,” but that one observer saw that something had changed.

Later on at a post-fight party, wrote boxing scribe George Kimball, the man sat alone thinking, until he suddenly turned to actor Michael J. Fox and said, “Know what? I can beat this guy.”

That man was Sugar Ray Leonard, and the world remembers what he would go on to accomplish on one April night just over a year later.

Last night, as Manny Pacquiao utterly dominated the once-great Shane Mosley in a 12 round unanimous decision, another man was assuredly watching the fight with that same acute sense of interest. Maybe, if he was watching closely, he may have said to himself, “Know what? I can beat this guy.”

It wasn’t the career defining performance that some of us thought Pacquiao was going to have, but that’s all right— he’s had enough of those.

It was a near shutout though, a strong performance against one of the sport’s finest boxers— aged though he may be— and the latest in a string of fights that has seen the southpaw from General Santos City take the heart from his larger opponents with the strength of his will and the power of his left hand.

For Mosley, it looked like the last gasp of a crumbling legend, a final embarrassment in a career that should have ended after the Mayweather fight last spring. No fighter of Mosley’s caliber should subject themselves to the mortification of being seen as a tired 39-year-old being chased around the ring by a younger, angrier brawler, unable to pull the trigger and doing little more than desperately avoiding a knockout loss.

The game is over for Mosley, and it’s time to ring the final bell on a career that’s been as fine as any in boxing can be.

On the other end, Pacquiao, though dominant, was far from spectacular last night. Although some of this may be owed to Mosley’s unwillingness to engage, he did not look like that same vicious tornado that destroyed Antonio Margarito.

He was clearly wary of Mosley’s power, and not as willing to take chances in the early rounds against someone who he knew might be as fast as he. It wasn’t until after the false “knockdown” of Pacquiao that Mosley was gifted in the tenth round that the Filipino came out with that enraged, Roberto Duran-esque ill intent that we’ve flash in his eyes so often.

And although his defense has greatly improved, there are still holes in Pacquiao’s game— but he’s so fast that they could only be exploited by a special fighter who is still in his prime. Of course, it just so happens that the only worthwhile fight left for Pacquiao is against a man who fits that description.

The world knows that there is but one scalp left for the savage puncher to claim, and that’s Floyd Mayweather’s. If nothing else, last night proved yet again that a fight between Pacquiao and the counterpuncher-extraordinaire would be the perfect match-up of styles, the perfect match-up of men, to put boxing back in the public eye for at least one glorious night.

It would not only be that career-defining war that Leonard-Hagler became— it would be both men’s Waterloo, the last great stands of two fabled warriors whose epic battle will live forever in our memories.

All the kings of my generation have fought each other…now, it’s time for the gods to settle up.

Article posted Eastsideboxing.com on 09.05.2011



http://www.eastsideboxing.com/news.php?p=27968&more=1

The noblest parts of the hardest game

BY STEVE JANOSKI
Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The first professional fight I ever watched was on Cinco de Mayo, 2007.

That night, a few friends and I had gone to a seedy bar in a rough section of town to watch Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Oscar De La Hoya go to war.

There had been a lot of hard talk before the fight, and I had just begun learning to box myself at the time, so I figured I should watch one or two fights to see what the top dogs did.

It was hardly a memorable fight— a mundane split decision victory for Mayweather that featured a lot of movement and very little brawling.

Regardless, it captivated me, as fighting in any form often captivates young men.

Growing up shorter than the rest of the crowd in my youth, I'd lost my first fight in kindergarten and faired only mildly better in many affairs after, so I knew what it was like early on to get hit.

Why anyone would want to make a profession of such a thing escaped logic to me, but I came to understand it that night.

It was the atmosphere around the ring, which, though filled with movie stars and former fighters and politicians, also has an electrical energy in it, a deadly calm that occurs on the seas right before a hurricane hits.

And then, for its flash and fanfare and fame— then, the brutal, unadulterated violence explodes.

It seems like a simple sport, the base of which comes down to "hit the other guy more, and harder, than he hits you." That's probably why every guy thinks he can do it, or that he knows what he's talking about when watching a fight.

The truth is that they can't, they don't, and that boxing is possibly the most complicated, subtly nuanced sport ever invented.

Even with the advent of Mixed Martial Arts, which seems to be overtaking part of boxing's market, there still is no question which is the "harder" sport.

MMA athletes are warriors just the same, but there are ways in MMA to dodge the brutality that's simply inherent in boxing.

Don't want to get hit in the face? Shoot for his legs. Take him down, make it a grappling match. Try and "tap out" the other guy.

In boxing, you can't tap out. The only way to tap out is to take a knee and let the referee stop the fight, but for real men, literally bowing in the face of an overwhelming opponent can be a soul-shattering experience.

And so we have fighters, guys like Micky Ward or Arturo Gatti or Diego Corrales, who made careers out of being known to never, ever quit, and to go out on their shield in the most literal sense of the term, finishing the fight either standing up or knocked out.

That's a lot to ask for when, after round upon round, you know you're not getting knocked out but the bones and your face feel like they've melded together in one mushy, painful pile, and that one more shot might blow them apart.

Boxing represents all that has left our society, and what lies in the souls of fighters is not found in the souls of those who play basketball or football.

When one of these players spikes the ball in the endzone or dunks on another guy, he's saying, "I've won. I'm harder than you, I'm more of man than you."

Sometimes the dunked on player will take offense, and a shoving match will ensure, maybe even a full blown fight. Because really, that's what all of these games come down to — who's more of a man, and who is the alpha dog.

And when you're looking to settle who is king of the mountain, well, that's settled with fists.

The spectacle of a boxing match is what forms the base for all of these other games that are trying to show who's king without getting beaten to death while doing it — this is why nobody "plays" boxing.

This society as a whole has become overwhelmingly frightened of violence. A cross word can get you sued, dodge ball is banned in schools, and HR departments and "mediators" settle disputes that once might have been settled the old way.

But in truth, a little violence is a good thing.

It's good to know where your limits are, what it feels like to get hit, and the sense of accomplishment you get from being so tired that your lungs are gasoline burnt and you can't hold your arms up and a fighter is trying to kill you…but you still made it through.

That's the kind of thing that boxing slams on the table and shoves towards you. There's no plaudits for those that can't make it, no participation trophies for the "B" level fighters.

Don't want to get hit? Get out of the gym. Not hard enough? You'll get knocked stupid, and no trainer will waste his time on you.

And if you do lose, you've got to admit that there's at least one guy out there who probably could have killed you if he didn't let up or the fight wasn't stopped.

This is one of most sobering thoughts that a human can have.

Email: Janoski@northjersey.com

A Final Plea for Mayweather-Pacquaio

By Steve Janoski: I imagine that these must be dark days for Floyd Mayweather Jr. Just a few short months ago, he was boxing’s triumphant conquering hero - returning to the sport last July and quickly dispatching two of the toughest, most talented fighters in the world in Juan Manual Marquez and Shane Mosley.

Immediately following the Mosley fight, he rose back to the top of the elusive “Pound for Pound” rankings once again, but there was more going on in the ring on the evening of May 1 than just taking some worthless mythical title from a placeholder.

Mayweather proved something to his detractors that night when he took Mosley’s best right hands and not only withstood them, but came back to utterly dominate the bigger, stronger fighter without having to back up while doing it.

For that short time after this virtuoso performance, the game was his again; he had made millions off the two fights, and his name was cleared in the eyes of not only the boxing public, but also in the eyes of the IRS. Many boxing fans, though they hated to admit it, began to suspect that he would easily defeat Manny Pacquiao in what everyone believed was an imminent match.

However, after the negotiations for the fight stalled for the second time, Pacquiao signed up to fight Antonio Margarito. The one-sided demolition of that same fighter last Saturday night has struck the boxing world hard, and made the iron hot for a drastic change; the pendulum has swung back in the Filipino’s favor.

And my God, how far Mayweather has fallen since.

The furor spread instantly over the internet. The wall of Mayweather’s Facebook page is alight with messages— nearly all of them having to do with Pacquiao, and not all of them cordial.

Some are messages of support from his real fans, while others are quiet, humble inquiries into what appears to be his seeming reluctance to fight the Filipino. Many, however, are far more boisterous, calling the fighter “Gayweather” or “Fraud” and telling him that Pacquiao will “destroy him.”

One fan even went so far as to say that Floyd has lost his own Facebook page.

“Floyd has lost his skills, he always loses money, he’s losing his fans, and he’s even lost this Facebook page,” the fan proclaimed. “This page belongs to PACQUIAO now.”

It doesn’t stop there. Every YouTube tribute to Floyd has been inundated with comments of the same ilk— brutally brash callouts by anonymous screen names looking to rattle sabers for their fighter.

All the while, piles of opinion articles are accumulating, many of which contain feature authors proclaiming the era of Floyd Mayweather dead, and that Saturday’s mauling of Margarito has left the outcome of a future Mayweather-Pacquiao fight all but decided.

As if this isn’t enough, Mayweather’s personal life also appears to be in shambles. He’s been hit with a restraining order by his ex-girlfriend that prevents him from seeing his two sons, the result of an allegedly violent confrontation in September. The slew of charges he faces for this incident could put him in prison for over 30 years.

Another incident occurred just last week, with a security guard claiming that Floyd poked him in the eye through an open car window when the guard was parked outside Mayweather’s Las Vegas home. This could result in another misdemeanor assault charge if pursued by the prosecution.

And, in one final blow, his trainer and uncle, Roger Mayweather, will likely stand trial on Jan. 24 on charges of attacking a female boxer. Roger, who is currently free on bail, could face a maximum of 10 years in prison if he’s convicted, meaning that even if Floyd ducks jail, he may be left without his trusted trainer for the biggest fight of his life.

Frankly, Floyd’s life is becoming a Shakespearean tragedy of epic proportions, where the attributes that have led him to these magnificent heights— his unwavering pride and his willingness to commit violence— are leading him directly to his brutal end.

But fear not. All is not over— especially when we’re talking about Floyd Mayweather, Jr.

I made the mistake once of questioning his heart, and he came back and proved me wrong; I suspect that he may do the same thing with the current flock of critics, especially in regards to a possible fight with Pacquiao.

Pacquiao’s fight with Margarito, while impressive, was not a shocking upset; one might even say that it had a predetermined outcome. Size difference be damned, few gave the slow-footed, wide-punching Mexican a realistic chance at defeating the Filipino southpaw, and with good reason. But we boxing fans are a fickle, insatiable brood, with short memories and minds that are easily swayed by the pre-fight hype heaped upon us.

In reality though, the Mexican brawler is cut from the same cloth as Pacquiao’s past handful of opponents— hard-hitting but sluggish on his feet, and little more than a wavering heavy bag for the tornado that is Manny Pacquiao on fight night.

Was Margarito much larger? Yes. However, he’s always been more of an inside fighter, walking through punches to land his own heavy uppercuts and hooks. He rarely employs a solid jab, and doesn’t throw a particularly long right hand; a rangy fighter, he is not.

For a fast southpaw like Pacquiao, this was not a spectacular challenge. Freddie Roach knew this, and that’s why he let Pacquiao take the fight. No misleading, overblown 24/7 series should make anyone believe that Margarito had any real chance besides a fluke knockout.

But when people talk about Pacquiao “destroying” Mayweather, I really must ask, even in the glowering ruins of the post-Margarito destruction— have we forgotten whom we are talking of?

Hate him or love him, Floyd Mayweather Jr. is 41-0. He has made fighters of every style and caliber look like amateurs, and he’s done it for more than a decade.

His resume is a list of the most talented fighters of the last 10 years— Emanuel Augustus, Jose Luis Castillo, Oscar De Lay Hoya, Zab Judah, Diego Corrales, DeMarcus Corley, Ricky Hatton, Shane Mosley, Arturo Gatti, Carlos Baldomir; Floyd has humiliated and defeated all of them.

Is Pacquiao better than all of these fighters? Yes. His combination of speed, power, footwork, and angles puts him at the top as far as ability, with the exception of maybe Mosley at lightweight or De La Hoya in his prime.

However, to say that the outcome of any fight with Floyd Mayweather is a foregone conclusion is foolhardy, for the simple reason that 41 men have tried, and all have failed. As the fighter himself is so fond of saying— all 41 had a game plan, and none of them worked.

On top of this, Mayweather, being an astute counterpuncher with an exceptional understanding of range, distance, and angles, is the type of fighter that Pacquiao has had trouble with in the past. He is far more Marquez than he is Cotto, Hatton, Clottey, or Margarito.

I will make no prediction on this prospective fight, as it’s simply too early to even entertain the thought (or get my hopes up that it happens in the first place). But one thing is certain: having Manny Pacquiao in the ring with Floyd Mayweather will drive Mayweather to dig deeper, and perform better, than he ever has in his life.

Will that be enough to prevail? Who knows. But it will certainly be enough to make the fight an encounter that Mayweather would have extraordinary incentive to win— he should know better than anybody that in America, when you win, we tend to give you a pass on a lot of misdeeds.

Whoever triumphs, the excuses will abound. The fight took too long to come to fruition, someone had hand problems, someone was on steroids, someone injected lidocaine, someone got old overnight or someone was already shot and now they’re “exposed”— we boxing fans don’t like giving credit to winners, no matter who it is.

Ironically though, it’s the fans who would be the real winners of this matchup. The massive buildup to this fight would be one that this generation of fight fans has never experienced, and the battle itself might approach the level of those bouts that have come to be described as “legendary” in the history of the sport— “The Rumble in the Jungle,” “The Showdown,” “The Brawl in Montreal,” “The Thrilla in Manilla,” “The War.”

It would be the only matchup of this era capable of duplicating the raw excitement purely because of the characters of the personalities involved. And, if it does finally happen, these two modern warriors will face off and have the opportunity to, as Homer said, “Stand and fight to the finish, twisting and lunging in their deadly dance,” and leave the memory of their battle imprinted on the minds of every pair of eyes watching for years to come.

The chance for the two greatest fighters of an age to have the opportunity to come toe-to-toe while still in their primes happens rarely, and this fight not happening because of squabbles about blood tests or payouts would be the greatest travesty in the history of the sport.

It would also give every fan in the world the right to – no, it would nearly demand – that every fan in the world turn their back on an already fading niche sport, because we deserve more than this from the fighters, the promoters, and the boxing world in general.

Floyd, Manny— do not rob yourselves of the chance for your names to live forever, with a place in the history books that emulates the likes of Hector and Achilles, and to be the first memorable warriors of the new millennium.

And for the love of God…do not rob us of the chance to watch you do it.

This article originally posted on Eastsideboxing.com

http://www.eastsideboxing.com/news.php?p=25846&more=1

Clottey no Buster Douglas

Steve Janoski: When I first heard that Manny Pacquiao’s next fight would be against Joshua Clottey, I have to admit that I was surprised. After the entire debacle with Floyd Mayweather, I was surprised the man even wanted to fight again— most would be so jaded by the entire affair, which was handled poorly on all sides (but the worst on Mayweather’s), that they’d want to be done with the grimy shadyness that is the boxing “business.”

But Pac came back, and is fighting a real welterweight even though he’s not actually one himself, something that its taken Mayweather oh, about two decades to do..

Regardless of that, Clottey is a tough opponent. He has an iron chin, and has taken the shots of some of the welterweight class’ heaviest hitters and waved them on. He went toe-to-toe with Cotto and was a good left hook away from beating him, and he stood in with Judah’s flashy hands and left him bloody by the end.

Clottey is a skilled infighter, digging his hooks and uppercuts and making fighters pay for overextending themselves. He has punishing power, and, although it isn’t that one-punch, hit-you-so-hard-your-teeth-hurt-power, it will wear a fighter down as it did Cotto and Judah.

He also skillfully executes his defense, picking off shots by holding his gloves high and leaving no opening between them (as Cotto tends to do). He also has good footwork against southpaws, and continually held the better position against Judah that allowed him to throw a stiff straight right without taking much damage himself.

The man is, without a doubt, a gutsy, tough fighter. But no one questions his heart; what they question is whether that heart and his two fists can really beat someone like Manny Pacquiao.

The difference in the two fighters’ styles is remarkable; while Clottey stalks and walks down his prey as a polar bear might, Pacquiao fights in the manner that writer A.P. Terhune said a collie attacks when enraged— he is everywhere and he is nowhere, he is vicious and brutal, bouncing in and out of range while sidestepping and striking with a power that he simply shouldn’t have carried up the weight classes.

He had Cotto turning ‘round as if he were fighting more than one man, and had the power to knock him down twice. His hands were blindingly fast, and he struck from every angle that a man’s fists can fly from. The little dynamo proved that his Hatton knockout was not a fluke, and that he can take the punches of a full welterweight.

Clottey is a bit faster than Cotto, but doesn’t throw better combinations and doesn’t seem to have the power that Cotto has. He leans forward when he stalks, and is prone to long stretches of punchless inactivity. He also has a habit of letting fighters steal rounds from him, and not jumping on them when he should. It is almost as if he lacks that killer instinct that a fighter must have, that fierce, murderous rage that rears its head only when they see an opponent’s bleeding face or swaying legs.

Pacquiao, as we all know, has this in spades. Although I see Clottey taking the fight to Pacquiao and trying to fight him in the phone booth, Pac’s footwork will nullify this. If Pacquaio dictates the range the fight is fought at, he could have Clottey put away in the early rounds via another spectacular stoppage.

There is a chance for Clottey though. Pacquiao does cut, and Clottey, if left to do his work on the inside, has a tendency to open up gashes above his opponent’s left eye. Clottey might realize that this is going to be both the defining moment and the greatest fight of his entire life, and that if he does not seize the world tonight by the lapels with his bloody fists and roar, “I have arrived!”…he never will.

Maybe he’ll let his hands go, and we’ll see an upset that we haven’t seen since Buster Douglas knocked Tyson’s mouthpiece across the ring.

But me? I wouldn’t bet on it.



This article orignally posted on Eastsideboxing.com on 3.13.2010


http://www.eastsideboxing.com/news.php?p=23097&more=1

Cotto Will Shock the World

By Steve Janoski - Manny Pacquiao is not invincible, and will be beaten on Nov. 14. There, I said it.

I have been accused of “hating” Pac for my views, which is laughable because I’ve never met him. He is simply another sportsmen to me, a very good fighter in an era filled with them. His place in the history of boxing is neither assured nor agreed upon at present; how History judges him will undoubtedly be a result of the next five or so years..

There are, of course, certain things that the attentive observer cannot deny about Pac. He’s got a terrific left hand, and he has developed, under the guidance of trainer Freddie Roach, into a complete fighter that uses all the weapons at his disposal effectively. He has been outsized in a number of his fights in the past two years, and has come up on the winning end against fighters far more accustomed to the heavier classes. But does that mean that he can really move up to welterweight, and expect to win this Saturday?

The answer, in short, is no. Though very evenly matched, Pacquiao lost both fights to Marquez. He defeated David Diaz (who?), and then beat De La Hoya’s trembling ghost into submission. He also beat Ricky Hatton, and because I am not one that subscribes to the “Hatton is a club fighter” theory, Pac gets credit for this- he beat a very good fighter by dismantling him with hand speed and power. Fair enough.

Since that May night, the message boards have been alight with praise of Pacquiao. With the accolades heaped upon him, one might think that the little Filipino could kill Sampson if only given the chance, or slay a Klitschko or two if he had the opportunity (maybe both at the same time). His singing career, his movie, his profile in general, has risen off the charts, and rightly so. He’s worked hard, and deserves the fruits.

But there are holes in this story, and the hero is not actually invincible. Upon a closer look at his lightweight fight, Diaz, bleeding and shocked in the ninth round, was still landing flush shots on Pacquiao’s face. They didn’t do much because it was David Diaz throwing them… but what will happen when it’s Miguel Cotto who’s throwing them?

And since the Diaz fight, Pac has barely been hit by a punch. De La Hoya looked as if he’d stopped breathing sometime in late November but someone put him in the ring anyway, and Hatton barely landed a shot before being viciously Anquan Boldin‘d by Pacquiao’s fist.

This means that Pacquiao’s chin (and, more importantly, his liver) remain untested against a hard hitting welterweight. While Cotto is not the one-punch knockout type, he certainly has power- enough power that when he hits Pacquiao, he’s going to know that he got hit. What does this mean for a guy who twice got knocked out at 112 lbs.?

If the Puerto Rican lands that straight right on the chin in the eighth or ninth round, will Pacquiao be able to stand and trade? Will he be so quick to come in on a guy who has stood with, and defeated, the likes of Sugar Shane Mosely, Joshua Clottey, Ricardo Torres, and Zab Judah? The man who took 11 rounds of a beating from Margarito. That left hand will not likely be so potent against one who has stood in against bigger sluggers for the last three years, and has seen all those fighters had to offer.

On top of that, there are distractions galore. There is blatant discord in the Pacquiao camp as evidenced by HBO’s 24/7’s, as Roach seems to be going toe to toe with Pacquiao’s leaching, Rasputin-like “advisor” Michael Koncz. Koncz, who seems to ooze the kind of vile that you see only in the villains in Disney cartoons, looks like the sort that can drive a man’s career into the ground with the weight of his silver tongue. Who else would have Pacquiao spar with Jose Luis Castillo, who won his last fight in 1932? Not Roach, to be sure.

The flood-addled training in the Philippines, the meetings with politicians, the celebrity status…these things take away a boxer’s focus, and training when one’s mind is wandering is not the road to victory. Maybe Pacquiao doesn’t have problems concentrating… but it would certainly make him different than the rest of us.

Meanwhile, waiting in the wings with heavy, serious eyes, is Cotto, training, training, and training. He has ferocity carved in his face, with the drawn look of a man who knows that his time is now or never. He is not a brash young fighter with little experience, and he is not a worn-out, drained-down old man. He is, at 29, in the prime of his career, at that peaking point when a fighter has been through enough wars that he is always comfortable in the ring, but young enough that those wars have not yet caught up with him. With his jab, his straight right, and his left hook to the ribcage, he seeks to end Pacquiao’s seven-title dream run, his Cinderella story that has gone on just a little too long.

Don’t be surprised if, on the night of Nov. 14, Cotto ends this story, and shows Pacquiao that not all fairy tales have happy endings.

Article posted on 10.11.2009

http://www.eastsideboxing.com/news.php?p=21838&more=1

Where is Floyd's Fighter's Heart?

By Steve Janoski - When I heard that Floyd Mayweather was returning to the ring, my first thought was, “This will be it.”

I had envisioned him returning to the sport like a conquering hero, a modern day Hernan Cortes, crushing those welterweights who he had been accused of ducking over the years with sharp left hooks and stiff straight rights. After these brawls, he would join the pantheon of boxing heroes and be called one of the Greatest Of All Time, alongside the Alis and Fraziers, the Durans and Lenoards, the Haglers and Hearns..

Yes, I thought. This must be it.

And then…I heard that he was fighting Juan Manuel Marquez… and I knew that this year‘s “Money” wasn’t any different than the last one.

Not that Marquez isn’t a great fighter, mind you- he most certainly is. However, he’s a small great fighter, one that is two weight classes lighter and five inches shorter in reach. On top of this, Floyd Mayweather is an incredible fighter, a once-in-a-lifetime talent with superb reflexes, impeccable ring generalship, and yet-unmatched hand speed.

Floyd has been blessed with that we mortals could only dream of having; even more remarkable, his skills, which for most men fade with age, have seemed to have only been enhanced, more defined in their perfection.

And that may be the real reason why Floyd is a rarity amongst fighters- unlike most warriors, whose hearts and wills outlive their skills, Floyd is the opposite- a fighter whose skills have outlasted what his heart, and maybe his head, tell him he can do.

Once upon we had a Floyd Mayweather Jr. who truly fought. We watched him embarrass the indomitable Chico Corrales, knocking him down five times in 10 rounds. We saw him in 24-rounds of war with Jose Luis Castillo, winning both times, the first by the narrowest of narrow margins.

Later, he battered the heroic Arturo Gatti into submission, raked Zab Judah (after Judah’s pre-requisite “Four Good Rounds” were over), and out-brawled Baldomir. He out-thought De La Hoya, and out-slugged Hatton. Two weeks ago, we saw him “come back” to the sport we all knew he never left against a determined, but outclassed, Juan Manuel Marquez in a decidedly one-sided fight that featured Mayweather at his finest.

Those last names are big ones to be sure; Hatton and De La Hoya are amongst the most popular fighters in this generation. Unfortunately for Floyd, that’s all they are- just names.

The Mayweather-De La Hoya fight was done plainly for the money. It was not the finest matchup that could be made- a 154 lb. Mayweather fighting out of his weight class, and being more conservative than normal against the quickly-aging De La Hoya who had always performed less than brilliantly in his biggest fights. Ricky Hatton was another one of those odd mismatches, with the tough Englishman who always struggled at welterweight stepping up for only the second time, and ending up way above his head. And since then, there was… well, silence.

Not from boxing fans, mind you. Since “Money” decided to move up to welter, we’ve all wanted to see him fight the big dogs; no more old warriors or blown up 140-pounders or 8-loss brawlers. No, we’ve wanted to see him get in with the lethal fighters, the Sugar Shanes, the Killer Cottos, the Clotteys. I would love to see him fight the Paul William, Andre Berto, hell, even the Collazo or Quintana. Just fight full size welterweights, the guys that he knows (and they know) could actually hurt him, the guys aren’t going to get in the ring with their hands down or forget to jab.

But that won’t happen. On Sept. 19, we saw that Mayweather knew full well that his smaller, slower opponent could hurt him no more than a puppy can hurt a pitbull. Unfortunately it seems that this is how Floyd likes things, and it is beginning to appear that this pitbull is silently fearful about facing dogs his size.

The look on Mayweather’s face when Sugar Shane Mosley got in the ring after the fight showed us all we needed to know- Floyd, looking more shook than Max Kellerman, didn’t react with his typical bravado. While not one man in the boxing world questions whether Sugar Shane would fight him, we all question whether Floyd is so willing. The “banter” after the fight did little to dispel that belief in those of us who hold it.

Regardless, Floyd will go on his way. He will beat Pacquiao in similar fashion as he dispatched Marquez, and probably go on to fight another fighter that he is sure he could beat before he retires again. He will make loud noises about how he is the greatest, but no one will listen. Why? Because for most fighters, it’s the names in the win-and-loss column that that defines their legacy; for Floyd, it appears that it will be the names not in any column that define his.

And that is not only a waste of God given talent, but also a God damn shame.

Article posted on 02.10.2009

http://www.eastsideboxing.com/news.php?p=21388&more=1