Separating the wheat from the chaff, the tumor from the rumor from the undisputed truth…and like that. Marley is back, not Marley’s Ghost although it is that time of year when cheap ass Ebenezer Scrooge needs a verbal thrashing and I will let the chumps fall where they may…how is that for a mixed metaphorical restart…
Your name is Scott Hirsch and the wise guys thought you were another Moneybags guy ripe for the plucking in boxing. They thought you would get fleeced and then flee. And you came this close to packing it in, with the wife wondering why you spent so much time and money on disorganized brain damage…but then Shannon Briggs cold cocked scaredy cat Sergei Liakhovich and you had a WBO heavyweight champeen. Come January 20, you might add a second heavyweight champ if Jameel “I’m No Schlemiel” McCline can get out of Sauerland, er I mean Switzerland, with a victory over robotic Nickolay Valuev.
I don’t hear either HBO or Showtime boasting that they will televise this one but what do you care? McCline, who has the heart of an unshelled peanut, can beat the Russian Giant because he does well against big, slow opponents. Sauerland, who only has to yodel to get friendly officials for this bout, which will be held outside his ski lodge, may have outsmarted himself. You’re Scott Hirsch and Iyvailo Gotzev, former power broker, can’t believe how you might run the table. You’re Scott Hirsch and this boxing business is becoming more than an expensive hobby…
Your name is Randy “Tex” Gordon and you now have until January 24 to work on your material for the postponed Johnny Bos Celebrity Roast. You stayed up all night prepping funny lines, genuine guffaws, for the original date but then Bos abruptly pushed it back. But that’s nothing for a guy like you. You’re Randy “Tex” Gordon and when you worked for Smokin’ Bert Sugar at The Ring, you once stayed up all night studying when Sugar told you there were would be a urinanalysis for all employees the next day. You’re Randy “Tex” Gordon and you better make someone laugh at Bosfest 2007 at the Waterfront Crab House in Long Island City, Queens, on January 24…
Your name is Scotty “Flattop” Pope and even you mix up headlines once in a while. The fightnews.com header on a story on Maskaev-Peter Okhello said that WBC heavy champ Oleg expected “a stiff test” in Moscow. Surely it should have read “Maskaev expects to test stiff Okhello.” Only Dennis “Rapstar” Rappaport could find an African tomato can in Yokohama, Japan, as fodder for his surprise champ. You’re Scotty “Flattop” Pope and you may have just been “testing” the readership and you are entitled to do that when you work 25-hour days grinding it out…
Your name is Jeff Lacy and the critics said you were toast before you performed in a mediocre manner against Vitaliy Tsypko. Now the naggers and the doubters consider you burned toast. Is that dissed Gary Shaw I hear laughing in the background or is it trainer Dan Birmingham who you also dissed? Your name is Jeff Lacy and nothing ever your mistake or your fault or your bad day at the office. You are Jeff Lacy and you play the blame game a lot better than you fight…
Your name is Shelly Finkel and you are twisting in the wind to see if Manny Pacquaio, who seems to continually find “advisers” who may have reached the sixth grade, will retain your management services.
You are Shelly Finkel and now Uncle Bob Arum is turning the screws on you whenever he can because you spoke the gospel truth that the Pacman should not have signed a promo contract with anyone. They can tinkle with Finkel all they want, the haters, but it is clear that the Filipino fistic action doll would reap the most money operating in the free agent mode. You are Shelly Finkel and, whether you stay or you go, you can look at yourself in the mirror and know you told the oft ill-advised Pacman the emmis (truth)…
Your name is Don Elbaum and you’re a boxing cult figure. It broke whatever sliver of a heart you have left after maybe 60-plus years in the fight racket when undefeated heavyweight prospect Joey Abel was turned into a wax-chinned suspect in Philadelphia by a novice. Instead of developing into a Gerry Cooney, it looks like Unabel is another slice of fistic fiction. Your name is Don Elbaum and, even though you could pass for 55, you’re as old if not older than Uncle Bob Arum and Donald King and you wonder how many more rides on the pugilistic merry-go-round you’ve got left. Your name is Don Elbaum and it a shame that none of your hopefuls has ever been able to fight as good as you talked them up.
Your name is Don Elbaum and you got to promote Sugar Ray Robinson when he was in his 50s. It figures because the business you love, well it loves to torture you…
Your name is Michael Katz and you may have finally stopped wearing the Malcolm X snow cap. Vegas is a little too hot for that getup. You like to be called “Wolfman” but you did not join in Sergei “White Wolf” Liakhovich’s moronic protests of his KTFO loss to Mr. Briggs.
Your name is Michael Katz and you like to be viewed as a crusty curmudgeon if that is not a redundancy. You claim a press room victory over Boston Globe scribe Ron Borges and he claims he won the silly skirmish. Your name is Michael Katz and you wouldn’t like it if the public knew you were the first fight guy to mail a check to needy Johnny Bos. You did it anonymously because you know that the vanishing few like Elbaum and the Bosman are “the heart and soul” of boxing…
Your name is Michael Marley and you’re glad to be back on the Internet beat with www.boxingconfidential.com and www.marleyboxing.com, both of which bring you right here.
My site was different than all the rest at the old address and we will be different than all the rest at this address. I know you will enjoy Ricardo Lois, a Cuban wisecracker who does know a left hook from a fish hook, and the other boss scribes and photogs who will contribute herein.
Your name is Michael Marley and you will return with the infamous Marley’s Ghost/Season Beatings column. That’s the one in which I will reveal who was naughty and who was nice during the fistic year. Who gets the high-priced bubbly and who gets the lump of coal? Keep it locked right here…
