Heat Check: HBO Tripleheader

Last Saturday night was a memorable one for boxing fans. HBO showcased a scintillating tripleheader featuring Cintron vs. Matthysse, Gatti vs. Gomez, and Margarito vs. Williams. And every fight left a lasting imprint for different reasons.

- The beast from Puerto Rico
Kermit Cintron looked especially monstrous in his two round destruction of Walter Matthysse. While Cintron was the heavy favorite, he was expected to be tested in the same manner Walter tested Paul Williams. And since Kermit wilted under Margarito's onrush two years ago, there was some intrigue on how he was going to handle another aggressive, durable opponent.

The test was over before the first scantron bubble could be filled. Cintron looked nothing short of a PR incarnation of Tommy Hearns as he delivered an effortless, but vicious knockout in front of the shocked Atlantic City crowd. Has Kermit improved that much under the tutelage of Manny Steward, or did P-Will make Matthysse look stronger than he is? I doubt the other top names in the division are particularly eager to face him and find out.

There have been murmurings that he'll be on the September 8th Vargas/ Mayorga card. I'd like to see him against Luis Collazo or Carlos Quintana.

- The death of a legend... and a myth.
Alphonso Gomez dominated, knocked out, and ended the career of Arturo Gatti. He also most likely ended any serious consideration for a Gatti induction into the Hall of Fame. And, in my mind, that's a good thing.

To be sure, the man's a legend for the incredible action bouts he produced in the mid to late 90s. His fights against Wilson Rodriguez, Calvin Grove, Gabriel Ruelas, Angel Manfredy, and Ivan Robinson (twice), were instrumental in building HBO's Boxing After Dark series and the Atlantic City boxing demographic. And of course, you have his classic 2002 encounter with Micky Ward, which now seems to be the baseline when measuring how good a fight is (how many times have you heard "not every fight can be Ward-Gatti"?).

In making an honest assessment of these fights, however, you see that he lost four out of seven. He also lost virtually every minute of every round against the two A-list boxers he faced (Oscar De La Hoya and Floyd Mayweather), and got demolished when he stepped up against recognizable competition at welterweight. While he does have a few good names on his record, certainly not enough to be considered an elite talent at any point in his career. Just because the IBHOF may already be watered-down, doesn't mean we have to tear down what's left of the flood gates. Moreover, the common argument that he should be inducted solely because of the excitement he brought to the sport is a stretch when equally exciting and considerably better fighters such as Ray Mancini, Cornelius Boza Edwards, and Nigel Benn have yet to sniff the Hall.

Nevertheless, I'm thankful for all the memories Gatti has provided us.

As far as Gomez, his increased stamina impressed me. I'm not sure he has the endurance to go hard for 10 or 12 full rounds, but it's clear he no longer fades after the fourth round like he has so many times in the past. A fight between him and Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. is a natural bout to make for the fall.

- The birth of a star?
Antonio Margarito was the favorite going into his bout with Paul Williams for obvious reasons. The tall southpaw from Georgia throws an unbelievable amount of punches, but very few men are built to withstand the whithering body attack, lethal uppercuts, and thudding right hands of the Tijuana Tornado.

P-Will displayed the chin and heart needed to reside within that rarefied air.

Margarito almost looked outclassed in the first four rounds. Williams' much faster, busier hands - along with his gameplan to grab and spin Antonio whenever he got inside - made Margarito look like he was moving in quicksand. In the middle rounds, however, Margarito's digging shots into Paul's sternum and rib cage started showing effect. In the late rounds, Margarito targeted Williams' chin with several short right hands. The torment he put his 6'1 foe through in the 11th virtually evened up the bout, and it seemed like a forgone conclusion that Margarito was going to own the final round, perhaps even finish Williams off.

But Paul showed the heart of a champion, shocking everyone by easily winning the 12th round - ensuring a unanimous decision.

The man is a nightmare for anyone in the division. He's several inches taller than Mosley, Cotto or Mayweather. His work rate would be too much for Joshua Clottey. Perhaps only Kermit Cintron has the size, strength, and technique to put The Punisher on his back.

The number of great matches in the welterweight division is staggering. And the summer sizzle continues to get louder.

Heat Check: Nonito Donaire and Joachim Alcine

The good, the bad, and the ugly about my predications of this past Saturday's doubleheader on Showtime (Travis Simms vs. Joachim Alcine and Vic Darchinyan vs. Nonito Donaire):

The Ugly - I was too high on Simms. The man still has plenty of natural talent, but he's not as well rounded as I thought he was. Against Alcine he only had one gear, he clinched more than Paulie Malignaggi, and he made no real adjustments throughout the fight. Not to mention his post-fight interview - in which he insisted that his conqueror was still only an amateur - was disgraceful.

The Bad - I picked the wrong fight to include in my The Summer's About To Get Hot piece. I thought Simms vs. Alcine had potential to be a great fight and it ended up being a fairly boring clinch-fest. I threw Darchinyan vs. Donaire in the honorable mentions and it ended up being the shocker of the year. I wanted to put the match up as one to look out for, but at the time I knew nothing about Donaire, and nothing I saw on his record jumped out at me. I did manage to get my hands on an early '06 ShoBox fight he was in and by the weekend I realized I made a mistake. This kid had some very nice tools. Which leads me to...

The Good - Money! Nonito Donaire was a +800 underdog the day of the fight (for those who aren't gambling degenerates, that means you get 8 times the amount of money you put up if you win - or in other words, $800 if you put up $100). It's extremely rare you see a betting line like that in a fight that isn't a complete mismatch. The odds makers apparently weren't aware that Nonito was no joke, and being the opportunist that I am, I took advantage to rake in $720. Then I quickly put a hundred on Alcine beating Simms by decision, which also had out of whack odds at +575. At the end of the night, I put in $90 and came out with $1,380.

Now that I'm done patting myself on the back, props must go to Mr. Donaire for an unbelievable performance and that grotesquely beautiful counter left hook that separated Vic from his senses. The young man has plenty of options at flyweight and super flyweight and I look forward to watching him in the future. Props also to Mr. Alcine, for doing what he could against the incessant clinching and spoiling tactics of Travis Simms to pull out a convincing decision. Although Jr. Middle is pretty much a wasteland, he's more than a formidable challenge to anyone willing to step up from welter, or to any of the big dogs at middleweight if he chooses to move up himself.

It's never felt so right to be so wrong.

Abstract Becomes Reality: Leroy Murphy vs. Chisanda Muti (1985)

Let's face it, in many ways the fight scenes in the Rocky series were corny beyond belief. Much of real boxing revolves around figuring out how to land the cleanest blows possible - reflexes, timing, strategy, footwork, head movement, feints, angles, subtle adjustments, ect. are required to set the stage for the perfect punch. This was all completely ignored in the Rocky movies because every punch was the perfect punch and anything that even threatened to resemble defense was etched out the script. No need to show glimpses of the actual science behind the sport, as they'd only get in the way of the blood, guts, and Addrriiaaaaan plot points we were battery-rammed with.

That's not to say I didn't enjoy the original movie; it was great for what it was. I always did believe that the shark was jumped at the end of Rocky II though. The ring action went from corny to cartooney with that ridiculous double-knockdown sequence.

At least that's what I figured until I saw Leroy Murphy vs. Chisanda Muti.

The beauty of the innanets summed up in one fight. If it wasn't for a gracious soul uploading this gem - someone who apparently got a hold of the tape from a promoter - I would have more than likely lived the rest of my life as a boxing fan without knowledge of the events that took place on October 19th, 1985. And that's unacceptable. Had this aired on network television, it would be widely known as one of the most bizarre finishes in American sports history.

The fight, scheduled for 15 rounds, began normal enough; one man - Chisanda Muti - used his height and reach to control his opponent - Leroy Murphy - with jabs and long right hands. Leroy proved himself to be game and tough, but as the rounds went by, Muti found it increasingly easy to penetrate his leaky defense. Leroy started taking a bad beating that was only getting progressively worse.

The beatdown reached a brutal apex in the 9th, when Leroy finally went down to his hands and knees after getting battered on the ropes. A weary Muti was seen in the neutral corner stretching his back as the ref began his count on Murphy. The intense effort to finish his wounded prey had clearly taken something out of him. Yet when Leroy bravely beat the count, Muti continued the ruthless onslaught, because surely the ref was close to stopping the fight. Instead, the referee watched idly as Leroy took blow after head-snapping blow, and Murphy somehow managed to survive the round.

Muti came out in the 10th as if he was trudging through mud. He was exhausted; he had punched himself out trying to end the fight in the previous round and now fatigue had an uncompromising grip on him. Leroy used the first half of the round to get his wits back under him. When he finally opened up, he found he was able to hit Muti almost at will. The tables had turned - Chisanda Muti was in dire straits. When the 11th stanza began, Muti's demeanor was was zombie-esque and Leroy didn't hesitate to take advantage. He pummeled Chisanda with crushing blows.

Muti gathered the heart and strength for a second wind and returned fire. The two traded until Leroy landed a searing left hook that dropped Muti hard on his pants. Muti climbed off the canvas and Leroy jumped back on him, raining down a firestorm of punches that, once again, would have prompted most refs to stop the fight. Muti withstood the punishment to see the end of the round and slowly walked back to his corner.

Vultures surely circled the small venue as both combatants walked out on dead legs to begin the 12th. Muti was now getting wobbled by jabs while Leroy seemed to no longer have the capacity block any incoming punches. It was clear that this would be the final round.

Words alone don't suffice to explain what happened after they found themselves entrenched in the corner.



They land hard right hands simultaneously. Muti stumbles back and the only thing that holds Leroy up is the corner post. Both men are badly hurt.



Muti staggers forward and falls on top of a dazed Leroy.



They collapse on the canvas.



The referee does one count for both fighters. Chisanda never sees that Leroy is still on the canvas being counted out as well.



Leroy struggles back to his feet at the count of 8 while Muti remains on the floor. Leroy Murphy is declared the winner by knockout.

To put this into prospective, in all my years of watching boxing, I've only seen one other double knockdown - between Sechew Powell and Cornelius Bundrage in 2005 - and both men immediately jumped back to their feet. The end of this classic 80's slugfest is probably the closest we will ever see to a double knockout.

In his following fight, Chisanda Muti got knocked out in three rounds by an 8-0 prospect named Evander Holyfield. He lost half of his next six fights and retired in 1989. Leroy Murphy saved himself a beating from Evander by losing his IBF Cruiserweight title to Ricky Parkey (who also got KO'd in 3 by Holyfield). He went on to fight until 1991, took seven years off, and finally retired in '98 after two comeback bouts.

Neither man turned out to be a great fighter, but their role in producing a fight that makes boxing fantasy a little more believable will never again be forgotten.

Heat Check: Alexander Povetkin vs. Larry Donald

The kid passed his first test.

Promising heavyweight prospect Alexander Povetkin was matched against the wily, 40-year-old Larry Donald, to see how he does against a live opponent. Mind you, not live enough to check his chin or heart, but live enough for us to make an accurate assessment on where the young man's skill level resides.

In winning a virtual shutout, he showed us plenty. I like what I see.

Pros:
- Good defense. He rarely got hit with consecutive jabs, and showed a nice ability to slip a jab and counter with a hook or right hand.
- Nice body work. One thing that annoys me about a lot of European fighters (super middleweight titan Mikkel Kessler, the Klits bros, ect.) is that they act like body shots are illegal blows. This dude goes up and down well.
- Quick hands. His hands are easily some of the fastest in the division.
- Varied attack. Quick lead left hooks, double hooks to body and head, hook-uppercut combinations - variety that's rarely seen from the heavies.
- Decent stamina. Not great by any means, but above average for a heavy and especially good for one in his 13th pro fight.

Cons:
- Power? He hit Donald with several flush blows and never had him visibly hurt. This doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't have power, as Donald has a very solid chin. But it does mean the book is still out on how hard he can crack.
- Not enough inside work. While it's true that Donald was initiating the vast majority of the clinches, Povetkin needs to work a lot more on the inside. He was more than happy to oblige whenever Larry held him since it gave him time to rest. That's all good and well against a 40 year old that hasn't fought in two years; it could be a fatal flaw against a fresher opponent who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty in close quarters.

What I'd like to see in his next few fights:
- A chin test. He needs to fight someone with a little lead in their gloves.
- A heart test. He needs to fight a durable opponent that's willing to let their hands go (Donald didn't have much other than a jab).

Suggested opponents: Lamon Brewster (if he loses to Wladimir), Calvin Brock, Matt Skelton, Chris Arreola.

Heat Check: Darnell 'Ding-A-Ling Man' Wilson vs. Emmanuel Nwodo

By the end of the 9th, I was slouched deep into my couch. My shoulders had been shrinking with each passing round and now they were completely lurched forward. My arms were crossed. My jaw was clenched. I was disappointed, irritated, and kind of pissed.

I was pouting.

After all, Darnell Wilson vs. Emmanuel Nwodo was the first of the can't-miss fights listed in my piece about the excellent schedule of matches to come in the next month or so. Granted, only two or three people probably read it, but I was still embarrassed. Early on, there were spots where the two heavy-fisted sluggers traded haymakers and the fight almost looked like it was going to live up to it's promise. In the middle rounds, however, the pace slowed to a crawl when it became clear that Darnell was exclusively looking to counter with a big overhand right. Nwodo, knowing that was Wilson's plan, was hesitant to let his hands go, winning rounds by sticking his jab and landing an occasional clubbing shot. Despite what seemed like a perfect clash of styles on paper, the fight had become boring.

How does this happen?, I wondered.

There was still drama because it was clear that the Ding-A-Ling Man could hurt Nwodo since he had dropped him with a short left in the 3rd. And he made it clear again in the 10th, decking Nwodo hard with a perfect counter right and a follow-up hook. Nwodo got up on very shaky legs; he barely survived the rest of the round. Finally, some action.

Nwodo hadn't fully recovered when he came out for the 11th and was again badly stagged by a Wilson right hand. He stumbled around the ring as Darnell stalked him with the grace of a baby giraffe but the swat of a grizzlie. Amazingly, the ref didn't stop the bout despite Nwodo constantly turning his back on Wilson, indicating he no longer had much interest in continuing to get clubbed.

Then it happened. Ladies and gentlemen, knockouts don't come much more devastating than this.



And with that, I was redeemed. As was every other boxing fan hoping for a memorable night. The Ding-A-Ling Man comes through yet again.

Here's hoping the heat wave continues.

Help Me, I'm A Hater

I don't know what it is about a consensus overrating a fighter that makes me dislike that fighter. It's unequivocally an emotional reaction that has no rational grounding. Just no real logic behind it, because the fighter himself did nothing wrong.

Surely, it stems from something within group dynamics, something I would have discovered in my Sociology textbook if I had actually opened it. Something about how a consensus view different from yours tends to either pull you towards conforming with it or fuel your non-conformist opinions further. The latter creating what's widely known today as hatin (an insult hurled mostly by the consensus).

There's one particular boxer - besides Arturo Gatti - that inflames the infliction. It's more of a nagging dislike than a passionate hate, one that simmers beneath the surface and rarely makes appearances outside of the subtle. In this case it's especially perplexing, since he's not unlike Pernell Whitaker, Roy Jones, or Bernard Hopkins. Fighters I'm a big fan of.

That's right, I'm a Floyd hater.

I wanted to be impressed with the De La Hoya victory. I really did. I was at the edge of my seat when Oscar was landing his jab consistently on Floyd's head and chest during the evenly-contested first half of the fight. I was anxious to see how Mayweather, the supposed pound-for-pound king, was going to adjust. Finally, he gets to truly prove that he's worthy of the hype, I thought.

Then Oscar inexplicably abandons his jab, without any noticeable adjustment from Floyd, and the rest of the fight is one-sided and uneventful. While it must be noted that DLH has since put fault for his half-assed performance on a chronically injured left arm, that's beside the point. Who knows if that's true and who cares. The point is, it was a prime opportunity to see Floyd tested for the first time since his pair of fights against Castillo in 2003 and the ball was dropped. So sorry for not being wildly impressed, 'consensus', but quite a few fighters around the Jr. Middleweight division could have done the same thing against a jab-less De La Hoya.

There's a few prevalent assumptions about Floyd that bugs the hell out of me.

1) He's a flawless fighter.
Wrong. He's a special talent, no doubt. He may have the best defense in boxing, though Hopkins and Wright would disagree. He has phenomenal footwork. He possesses pinpoint counter punching skills. He's incredibly smart.

No one's perfect, however. He's currently a pot shotter who hesitates to throw combinations even against limited opposition. He doesn't have much pop at these higher weights. His hands are still brittle. And he lacks a certain bloodlust, as he tends to cruise rather than finish a guy off.

In other words, there are several boxers who have a far deadlier offensive arsenal than the one Mayweather brandishes.

2) In a P4P matchup, he'd easily beat anyone else in boxing.
This cracks me up. Zab Judah takes four rounds (1, 2, 4, and 12) pretty clearly and scores an unofficial knockdown against Floyd, but guys like Manny Pac, Hopkins, Wright, and the Marquez Bros. would just get humiliated on a P4P level. For my money, I'd make some of those cats a slight favorite over Mayweather in a mythical bout.

3) He beats everyone from 154 down.
Sure, he'd be the betting favorite over anyone from 154 down. I think Travis Simms beats him if they fought tomorrow though, as he's shown to have problems against quick southpaws (and who doesn't?). On that note, Paul Williams also gives him all he could handle. Moreover, I'd be very interested in seeing how he does against Ricky Hatton, and especially Miguel Cotto (Margarito, while incredibly tough and strong, is probably indeed too slow for Floyd's foot speed). Light hitting pot shotters are vulnerable to relentless pressure.

That's just one hater's point of view though.

It's not too late for me to convert to a believer. It happened before with Cotto after he scrubbed his ass with Carlos Quintana, a prospect I was high on (and still am to a degree). I honestly hope he proves me wrong, so I can get back to hatin on folks who deserve to be hated on (*ahem* Paulie Malignaggi).

It's on you, Mr. Mayweather. Save me from my hate.

Abstract Becomes Reality: Bernard Hopkins vs. Antwun Echols (2000)

The same reason why Baby Boy should be required viewing for movie buffs is why the rematch between Bernard Hopkins and Antwun Echols should be required viewing for boxing fans: it gets better every time you see it.

Baby Boy fans know what I'm talking about. Snoop and the fort, Omar Gooding's overacting, Tyrese getting his ass whooped every five minutes - it's not intended to be a comedy, but the unintentional humor puts it up there with Naked Gun, 40 Year Old Virgin, and other classics that were supposed to be funny. Even the attempted rape scene was comical (if you don't see why Snoop in a wife beater trying to overpower anyone is funny, then I don't know what to tell you).

On the same token, while Hopkins-Echols II was fairly action packed, it was far too one-sided to be considered great. The first fight was easily better in terms of the combat between the future legend and the menacing contender.

But the several subtle and not-so-subtle incidents that happen during the bout makes it a classic worthy of being in the same air of Pryor-Arguello, Hagler-Hearns, and Corrales-Castillo.

Five reasons why this was one of the funniest championship fights ever.

5) Jim Lampley curses.
An angry Echols hits Hopkins - hard - while referee Tony Weeks was breaking the two. It was only the first round, but Echols already had enough of Hopkins' roughhouse tactics.

After Hopkins retaliates, Weeks tells them both to cut the bullshit out. HBO's lead commentator Jim Lampley lets the viewers know that "that's one of the official rules of boxing: cut the bullshit."

It was the only time I've heard a commentator, much less the straight-edged Lampley, curse on air.

4) Rare ring card girl commentary.

Larry Merchant is spot on in his role of a dirty old man as he declares what round is coming up a little too enthusiastically. Jim Lampley sardonically cites examples of why round 10 is a great round in history. And in between all this, you can hear Manny Steward giggling in the background.

Something about two guys over 50 and one guy well into his 70s making comments about scantily dressed females on air just killed me. It was too low-key to be offensive or misogynistic and too poignant to be professional or neutral. It was perfect.

You never see ring card girl commentary nowadays, and it was very rare to see it in the past. We need to start a petition to bring it back.

3) Echols dumps Hopkins on his shoulder.

Echols picking up Bernard Hopkins and dropping him on his shoulder was more shocking than funny. What happens afterwards is where the comedy sets in:

a) As Hopkins is on the ground writhing in pain, Echols walks over to a camera, spits his mouthpiece out, and gives us his take on the situation with "Bernard is FAKING!"

b) Tony Weeks admonishes Echols by saying "you cannot pick a guy up and throw him down." Echols replies with "I didn't throw him down, he just fell on his own. You gotta watch."

If it wasn't obvious before, it's clear now: Antwun is cool as hell.

c) Hopkins spanks Antwun for the remainder of the round. Using one arm.

d) As if there wasn't enough proof that Bernard manipulates people through intimidation, ring doctor Margarette Goodman checks on Hopkins in between rounds to see if he can continue with his injured shoulder. She tells him to lift his arm and makes it clear that if he can't, she'll call the fight off. Hopkins tells her she's making it worse and to leave him alone. She says OK and leaves him alone.

Think about that. Hopkins told a widely respected physician to kick rocks and she did. Without hesitation.

2) Echols' flop after a Hopkins rabbit punch.

It was funny enough seeing it during the fight - Hopkins hits Echols with a light rabbit punch at the beginning of round 2, Echols falls down like he got shot, pretends like he's completely unconscious, snaps back into consciousness after Weeks tells him to get up, and resumes the fight on perfectly steady legs only seconds later.

But I was in tears when I put the VCR in slo-mo as they replayed the incident several rounds later. Antwun's facial expressions are too much.

1) Antwun notices Bernard's fist.

Weeks momentarily comes in to break a clinch, then backs off when the two combatants separate themselves. As Echols stares at Weeks - apparently still waiting for the break - Hopkins hits him with a hard right hand. The fight is stopped soon after.

Again, one of the ensuing replays catches Antwun's facial expressions during the punch and makes it unbelievably funny. You can see Antwun notice Hopkins' incoming blow through the corner of his eye. You can see the perplexed look on Antwun's face as Bernard's fist closes in on its target. You can see the hurt and feelings of betrayal written on his face after the punch lands squarely on his nose.

The guy is simply hilarious.

More Abstract Becomes Reality to come...