"He tricked us. He tricked us all." This is what George Foreman said of Bernard Hopkins in 2001 after Hopkins systematically broke down betting favorite and pound-for-pound fighter Felix Trinidad over the course of 12 rounds before knocking him out in the final minute. Trinidad was never the same.
From that point, Hopkins was given the credit he deserved and was seldom underestimated. That is, until 2005 when he fought Jermain Taylor. Taylor took two close decisions from the 40 year old. Boxing writers and fans alike gave out a collective plea for the old man to retire. He's done enough: he has knockout victories over hall of fame fighters including Trinidad and De La Hoya, along with 21 consecutive middleweight title defenses over a span of ten years, which is not only sufficient to punch his ticket to the hall of fame, but his resume is enough to put him in the discussion of all time great middleweights.
At 40 years old, it was time to ride into the sunset. The only thing is, Hopkins "didn't hear no bell." The only man on earth who believed he still had days left on the top echelon of the sport was Hopkins himself. Instead of fighting again at middleweight, Bernard not only decided to jump two divisions to light heavyweight, but he thought he would do it against the champ, Antonio Tarver. Very few gave Hopkins a chance. If he couldn't pull the trigger and finish the job against middleweight Jermain Taylor, what did he think he was going to do against Antonio Tarver? Apparently Hopkins knew something no one else did, because it was a 12 round destruction which made Tarver look like an amateur.
He tricked us. People swore they would never underestimate Hopkins again.
This past April, he met another pound-for-pound fighter in Joe Calzaghe. Though Hopkins knocked Calzaghe down in the first, Calzaghe out hustled Bernard with an incredible work rate. Calzaghe took a close 12 round decision, as Hopkins looked a little slower than usual. His reflexes weren't quite there. His caginess turned to lethargy. Numerous times throughout the fight, as the bell sounded to end a round, Hopkins walked to the wrong corner. He was disoriented. Hopkins had been able to fight on the top level for so long not solely because of physical gifts. Bernard Hopkins, mentally, could not be beat. He turns his opponents' strengths into their weaknesses. He is the ultimate strategist and ring general--a ring general who couldn't find his way back to the corner. At age 43, it was apparent Bernard Hopkins had finally reached the end of his fairy tale career.
But Hopkins didn't think so. He opted to keep fighting. Bernard figured he may as well challenge Kelly Pavlik, the hardest hitting middleweight since Tommy Hearns. Pavlik is 34-0 with 30 knockouts. He is not simply a power-punching fluke--Angelo Dundee himself has said, "Pavlik belongs in any era." Hopkins didn't care; he has never acknowledged the writing on the wall--he has never acknowledged that there is a wall.
Twelve boxing writers were asked to give their predictions for the outcome of the fight. Twelve writers picked Pavlik. Many of whom expressed concern for the safety of Bernard Hopkins.
The first bell sounded and Hopkins went to work like a surgeon. Never before had Pavlik been hit so clean; never before had he been so confused; never before could he not find the trigger; never before had he lost. Bernard Hopkins gave Pavlik a true boxing lesson. There was no lack of direction, and no lack of energy. Bernard Hopkins truly stopped time and became more than a living legend, this past Saturday night, he became immortal.
In the final round, Hopkins came out fighting with just as much vigor and guile as he did in the first. Old men don't attempt to knock out 26 year old studs, though this is precisely what Hopkins sought to do in the last round of a landslide fight. As the final bell sounded, Hopkins stoically walked over to the edge of the ring apron and stared at every boxing writer sitting ringside who picked against him...again. With his bottom lip quivering, Bernard Hopkins couldn't fend off the raw emotion, the pure drama of his performance, giving the ultimate twist ending to his epic career.
He certainly tricked us. He tricked us all.
October 20, 2008
October 10, 2008
The Third Act
Jermain Taylor has a certain magnetic quality about him. Call it "athletic charisma." He exuded this coveted quality in his first act: the lead-up bouts en route to a title shot. In each of these fights, Taylor utilized precision, patience, and discipline. These virtues coupled with his supernatural physical gifts produced a result that gained him a following that prophesied a reign at the top which could rival the current King's. Who in their right mind would not only predict, but expect a young fighter to carry such a torch? That honor is reserved for special heroes who are deemed as such only after their achievements; he had not yet proven anything. But this was the power of Jermain Taylor.
And so began act 2.
Taylor got his title shot and won it in a fashion which had all parties heated. His disciples claimed he did not win in the manner he was supposed to, and his detractors were outraged that he now had the title despite the performance. But the faithful remained confident their prophesy was still true.
Forty eight rounds later, even the most faithful were looking for the smoke and mirrors behind the pulpit. The temple was sparse. Those who remained recited, "Beware. Beware. His physical gifts are there." But to those not influenced by their hopes saw an underachiever--an underachiever who in his reign has not yet followed through on his promises made in act 1. After every battle, there was always an excuse, none of which ever found fault with his physical talent; every explanation cited his discipline, patience, and control. These were things that had his disciples so frustrated: with his powers, Taylor could have been a part of the Justice League, yet he was stuck in traffic during every meeting.
Taylor's eventual demise was befitting, but not painless. Act 2 had been one long trial. Finally, on the night of September 29, 2007 the verdict was in: he was to be tortured. It was a mere human who rose to the occasion. A human in Kelly Pavlik did not see a deity before him; he did not see a superhero, a savior or chosen one. While Taylor's disciples saw his shiny cape, Pavlik saw the human wearing it. Pavlik beat the powers right out of him. Taylor fell to the ground, a mortal. He bled like a mortal. He lost like a mortal.
His disciples were hurt, stunned. But we stood by him; we wished him to try again. The human that he was--he did try again. He improved like a human; he failed like a human. The prophesy had proven to be false; the true Jermain Taylor has been identified. The confrontation and revelation have occurred. What is the resolution? What does act 3 hold?
How will the story end?
And so began act 2.
Taylor got his title shot and won it in a fashion which had all parties heated. His disciples claimed he did not win in the manner he was supposed to, and his detractors were outraged that he now had the title despite the performance. But the faithful remained confident their prophesy was still true.
Forty eight rounds later, even the most faithful were looking for the smoke and mirrors behind the pulpit. The temple was sparse. Those who remained recited, "Beware. Beware. His physical gifts are there." But to those not influenced by their hopes saw an underachiever--an underachiever who in his reign has not yet followed through on his promises made in act 1. After every battle, there was always an excuse, none of which ever found fault with his physical talent; every explanation cited his discipline, patience, and control. These were things that had his disciples so frustrated: with his powers, Taylor could have been a part of the Justice League, yet he was stuck in traffic during every meeting.
Taylor's eventual demise was befitting, but not painless. Act 2 had been one long trial. Finally, on the night of September 29, 2007 the verdict was in: he was to be tortured. It was a mere human who rose to the occasion. A human in Kelly Pavlik did not see a deity before him; he did not see a superhero, a savior or chosen one. While Taylor's disciples saw his shiny cape, Pavlik saw the human wearing it. Pavlik beat the powers right out of him. Taylor fell to the ground, a mortal. He bled like a mortal. He lost like a mortal.
His disciples were hurt, stunned. But we stood by him; we wished him to try again. The human that he was--he did try again. He improved like a human; he failed like a human. The prophesy had proven to be false; the true Jermain Taylor has been identified. The confrontation and revelation have occurred. What is the resolution? What does act 3 hold?
How will the story end?
September 11, 2008
Keeping up with the Abrahams
I have just put up this picture of Arthur Abraham and myself. It was taken at the weigh-in for his most recent fight against Edison Miranda. It was great to meet him, but I must say, both my friend Jeremy and I were rooting for Miranda that night. Nothing against Abraham--he's a real solid fighter, and he seems like a fine guy, but what can I say, we were hoping to see a Miranda victory. We had met Edison that weekend as well--what a character: he was constantly smiling, jubilant, and overall a cool guy.
So there we were that night right up close to the ring. We had just seen one awesome fight between Raul Marquez and Gio Lorenzo. On a side note, Jeremy and I were really pulling for Marquez. The manner in which he mustered up the will to take it to this young contender was something special to witness. Marquez truly won over every ambivalent spectator that night. Anyways, for the first three rounds of the main event, Miranda was walking Abraham down, cutting the ring off nicely and landing some decent shots...but something wasn't right. Abraham was a little too calm in there. It began to appear as though Abraham was allowing Miranda to throw punches; he was allowing Miranda to come forward. At no time did it appear as though Miranda had taken control, despite the fact that he was the only one throwing.
The fourth round.
Abraham sprung open like a jack-in-the-box and tore into Miranda with a barrage, three knockdowns deep leading to the stoppage. Truly a spectacular performance which unfolded in the blink of an eye. The largely pro-Miranda crowd was stunned. The bad blood between these two camps produced a tension-filled ring, as there was pushing, yelling...and (attempted) chair throwing. Jeremy and I saw a member of the Miranda camp jump out of the ring, grab a folding chair, and run along side the canvas to the Abraham corner, up the stairs, before being tackled by security. We remained in the arena for maybe another five or so minutes before making our way out to the casino.
We went to grab a beer in the ultra-packed bar, and sitting there is Alexander Abraham, Arthur's brother. I found it a bit odd that he was already planted at the bar while his brother was no doubt in the dressing room, or possibly at the post-fight press conference already. I made my way over to him. I shook his hand and quickly found out he didn't speak much English. It was OK--I only had a two-word question: "Kelly Pavlik?" I said. He said, "No, Marquez. Then Pavlik." Then quickly, a man came up behind him, told him something which I couldn't hear, and they both darted off together. Strange indeed. But with adrenaline still pumping from an awesome night of boxing, and with my mind's eye seeing a Kelly Pavlik/Arthur Abraham match-up in the future, I didn't give it all too much thought. It was a few days later, that I read on one of the boxing websites that "Alexander Abraham was detained in the casino bar after the fight." Apparently, he was in the middle of all the action in the ring post-fight, and had to be escorted out. Not a bad place to be detained I guess.
When all was said and done, it was one awesome weekend in Hollywood, Florida. The Hard Rock Casino is a great place to watch a fight, with a serious boxing buzz on Friday and Saturday. And who knows who you may run into at the casino bar post-fight??
So there we were that night right up close to the ring. We had just seen one awesome fight between Raul Marquez and Gio Lorenzo. On a side note, Jeremy and I were really pulling for Marquez. The manner in which he mustered up the will to take it to this young contender was something special to witness. Marquez truly won over every ambivalent spectator that night. Anyways, for the first three rounds of the main event, Miranda was walking Abraham down, cutting the ring off nicely and landing some decent shots...but something wasn't right. Abraham was a little too calm in there. It began to appear as though Abraham was allowing Miranda to throw punches; he was allowing Miranda to come forward. At no time did it appear as though Miranda had taken control, despite the fact that he was the only one throwing.
The fourth round.
Abraham sprung open like a jack-in-the-box and tore into Miranda with a barrage, three knockdowns deep leading to the stoppage. Truly a spectacular performance which unfolded in the blink of an eye. The largely pro-Miranda crowd was stunned. The bad blood between these two camps produced a tension-filled ring, as there was pushing, yelling...and (attempted) chair throwing. Jeremy and I saw a member of the Miranda camp jump out of the ring, grab a folding chair, and run along side the canvas to the Abraham corner, up the stairs, before being tackled by security. We remained in the arena for maybe another five or so minutes before making our way out to the casino.
We went to grab a beer in the ultra-packed bar, and sitting there is Alexander Abraham, Arthur's brother. I found it a bit odd that he was already planted at the bar while his brother was no doubt in the dressing room, or possibly at the post-fight press conference already. I made my way over to him. I shook his hand and quickly found out he didn't speak much English. It was OK--I only had a two-word question: "Kelly Pavlik?" I said. He said, "No, Marquez. Then Pavlik." Then quickly, a man came up behind him, told him something which I couldn't hear, and they both darted off together. Strange indeed. But with adrenaline still pumping from an awesome night of boxing, and with my mind's eye seeing a Kelly Pavlik/Arthur Abraham match-up in the future, I didn't give it all too much thought. It was a few days later, that I read on one of the boxing websites that "Alexander Abraham was detained in the casino bar after the fight." Apparently, he was in the middle of all the action in the ring post-fight, and had to be escorted out. Not a bad place to be detained I guess.
When all was said and done, it was one awesome weekend in Hollywood, Florida. The Hard Rock Casino is a great place to watch a fight, with a serious boxing buzz on Friday and Saturday. And who knows who you may run into at the casino bar post-fight??
September 9, 2008
Scattered thoughts
It was great to see boxing back in full force this past weekend. Besides the Judah/Clottey card on the 2nd, August truly was an off-season. So taking a load off this past Saturday evening was rewarding, as written in the previous post, the anticipation was great for this particular card. Here are some scattered thoughts...Shobox is truly an unsung hero for the sport...Yonnhy Perez looked good. To me, he is a poor man's Kelly Pavlik: same body type, he is rangy, long, he puts his punches together well, and has a solid but not flashy defense, yet he lacks the power, precision, and sheer strength of Pavlik. I would like to see Perez in there with someone in the top ten soon...I typically like the Charles/Farhood duo. I think they are a good fit for Shobox, but I thought their commentary was a little off: they were pushing for Perez to get his guy out of there. However, how many times have we seen a young gun underestimate his opponent when his punches start to land, and proceed to go wild, get sloppy, run out of gas, and possibly get caught? (It should be noted that this is not solely a prospect trait) The young Perez stayed relaxed, but kept busy, landing clean shots on a guy who has a more-than-sturdy melon. He continued this way until the fight was appropriately stopped. I see nothing wrong with the way he fought, in fact I thought it was a very solid performance...I can't recall a time in which I have seen a guy who is used to throwing 100 punches per round, hit the wall as suddenly and as blatantly as Barrios did against Juarez. I'm sure Rocky's work to the body ushered the turn of events, and I commend him for jumping on the opportunity like a champ, but would it have killed him to open up sooner?...People seem a bit let down on the Katsidis/Diaz fight. Vazquez/Marquez it was not, but come on guys, it was a good fight. Diaz fought smart and showed that he has become better because of the Campbell loss. Good for him. Just because a fight promises action, does not mean it has to be a Gatti/Ward style brawl. Senseless violence is why we have UFC...Barrios' lip was the one of the more disturbing things I have seen in a boxing match. I put it up there with Abraham's jaw, Lujan's ear, and Glen Hamada's scorecard...Poor Lennox Lewis. Sure, he's articulate, just not when he is speaking into a microphone. We should cut him a break though. When he said, "Let me tell you, the referee is going to be the most important man in that ring besides the two fighters." I knew what he meant. I think...
September 8, 2008
The Waiting is the Best Part
What a great feeling it is on the night (as our British friends would say) after a long stretch of welcomed anticipation for a big fight. Anticipation is a great thing that we as boxing fans know so well as an element to the fight game: a potential match-up is suggested before getting made, possible outcomes play out in our mind's eye, we read interviews and articles on the net, we are sometimes treated with an HBO countdown show, we write in to mailbags while reading others' views, we watch the weigh-in and stare down, we read about the fighters' respective camps, their conditioning, their past fights, what they have learned, what they will bring come fight night, we debate with fellow die hards about weight, styles, power, speed, stamina, precedents and unknowns...
And what better arena to witness it all play out than the ultimate truth stage: the boxing ring.
And what better arena to witness it all play out than the ultimate truth stage: the boxing ring.
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