What factors led David Lemieux into the ring in Madison Square Garden last night, where, over eight noncompetitive rounds, he was summarily butchered by Gennady Golovkin? Surely there was the enticing glory of possibly being the first man to make mortal a middleweight monster along with the change in fortune such an improbable upset would provide. There was also the cash that both coaxed Lemieux to the ring and awaited him in the future had he done what most everyone believed he could not.
Most likely, it was the last of these considerations that weighed heaviest for Lemieux. Why else would he lobby so lamely for a rematch of a fight he did not control for a second? Only his financial prospects stand any hope of improving in a rematch.
It may be a criticism of Golovkin that Lemieux thought so little of the beating he endured that he would suffer it again for similar recompense. Or, perhaps it speaks well of the type of offers the Golovkin brain trust can now make in seeking opponents. Either way, Lemieux, Laval, Quebec, seemed less than discouraged by his slow destruction; a destruction that began with a first round in which his hair moved more than his fists. Golovkin refused to adopt a similar passivity, and while not yet attacking with complete disregard for return fire, used an array of thudding jabs to disarm his (supposedly) most dangerous opponent to date.
Lemieux earned his menacing distinction mostly by virtue of his power?utterly ruinous to third rate competition?and the dearth of quality middleweights available (a number that shrinks further when the clause ?interested in or allowed to fight Golovkin? is added). That power was useless not only because Golovkin nullified Lemieux?s attack with his jab, but also because Lemieux wields his power with the nuance of child learning to use a spoon. There is a charm to his gusto, as there is to any fighter who throws each punch with decapitation in mind; Lemieux pursues these beheadings at full speed, with full power. It did not take Golovkin long to suss out such a predictable attack, however. For an analogy, consider the arcade classic Frogger, and how much easier that game would be if every murderous vehicle went at the same speed. Golovkin, born in Kazakhstan but now living in Los Angeles, easily pivoted away from the punches winged his way, and stuck a turning Lemieux with jabs, occasionally adding a hook or hook/cross behind them.
Unleashing his offense, Golovkin hurt Lemieux with a hook in the fourth and added an uppercut to his arsenal by the end of the round. In the fifth, a body shot dropped Lemieux, who not only weathered that blow but the right hand Golovkin landed with Lemieux on a knee. No warning or penalty ensued, and Lemieux was up at the count of eight, whereupon Golovkin, 159 1/2, distracted him with an uppercut before sinking home a left hook to the body.
