It wasn?t age. It wasn?t a bad night. It was Wladimir Klitschko being Wladimir Klitschko. That?s who he is. That?s who he?ll always be?
For almost ten years Wladimir Klitschko has held at least one version of the watered-down heavyweight title. And while I?ve knocked him throughout his career, he deserves praise for carrying himself like a champion outside the ring. He is respectful. He is articulate. He walks around in fighting shape?there?s something to be said for looking the part when you?re the supposed king of the world; Dr. Steelhammer has kept his body in steely definition, a counterpoint to some of the lard-bellies who fight in a division that doesn?t require cutting weight. And Wladimir has taken on all comers. They?ve been a less-than-stellar lot, but that?s not his fault.
But inside the ring, Wladimir Klitschko has never been great. He has been big. He has displayed an impressive jab that?s as stiff as his ring movement, especially impressive because of his 81? reach. And he has fought carefully, relying on his physical attributes to wear his rivals down. Aside from his jab, Klitschko has made leaning on smaller men (and most of them have been smaller) an art. Jab, hold, lean was always Klit?s on-canvas mantra, and eventually the man in front of him was too tired to keep his guard up and then, and only then, did Wladimir unleash his power punches. What Wladimir has never had is a steely resolve. Look at his face during the middle rounds of any fight, when he has not fully figured out his opponent and when his opponent has to yet succumb to fatigue, and you?ll see worry. And this worry, this fear of getting hurt, has been the true foundation of Klitschko?s safety-first fighting style. It?s a rational style. It?s a logical style. It?s a careful style. But it?s not the style of a great fighter who believes he can weather adversity, who can face the hard truths so brutally exposed in the ring, and come out the winner. Winning was always on Klitschko?s agenda. But remaining unscathed was paramount. And while a methodical approach to boxing can lead to success (and less damage), it never leads to greatness, to legacy. Some of the greatest champions have been ring technicians, but there were moments in their fights, defining moments, when they put logic and safety and self-preservation aside, when they tested themselves, man on man, putting their bodies in harm?s way to secure their legacies as great fighters. Klitschko never did.
Last Saturday night in Dusseldorf, Germany, Wladimir Klitschko faced a man who revealed how one-dimensional the reigning champ always was. Going into the fight, I didn?t expect Tyson Fury to have a chance. He is gangly. His footwork is suspect?he?s often off balance, and smaller men have knocked him down. And he doesn?t punch particularly hard or well. But he?s big, perhaps not as big as advertised, but he is a super-tall heavyweight with a freakish 85? reach. Fury fought the fight of his life on Saturday, keeping his distance, throwing enough punches to win at least ten rounds, an easy task against Klitschko, who landed a pitiful average of less than five punches per. But the real reason Tyson Fury won the fight was articulated by Roy Jones, Jr, who has come of age recently as an insightful commentator. Against smaller men, Klitschko?s jab/hold/lean formula worked, but against Fury, it looked ridiculous. Yes, Klitschko has fought tall men before, but none of them made him pay inside. Fury was able to slip out of Klitschko?s grasp?smaller men can?t, taller men can?and smartly use his time inside to throw close-range punches to Klit?s body and behind his head. Klitschko would then step back, or be pushed back by the ref, too far away to land his own punches while Fury could use his four-inch reach advantage to raise his punch count above the lethargic Klitschko?s. Did Fury get into Klitschko?s head before the fight? No. Klitschko is a veteran of press-conference nonsense and meaningless pre-fight stare downs. Did Fury get into Klitschko?s head during the fight?yes, as so many other fighters have done.
Despite his corner?s admonitions, despite his older brother?s pleas, Wladimir Klitschko refused to test himself, to break his pattern, to put himself in harm?s way and dare to fight, really fight, the man in front of him. Some defenders of Wladimir will say he?s too old, that age finally caught up to him on Saturday night, but that?s an easy lie. Wladimir has protected himself so well over the years that he?s a young 40?he has suffered little damage. And if you look at Round 12, when desperation trumped disposition for a few seconds, Wladimir had plenty of energy to throw some power shots. This was not an old man sinking from fatigue. This was a strong man afraid of fatigue. In this way, Klitschko seems the classic bully. For so much of his career he leaned on smaller men, made them tired, and then and only then, when they were too tired to defend themselves, he puffed up his chest and pounced. But like a bully who picks on the weak to cover his fears, Wladimir has always been afraid of fatigue, which, as the adage goes, makes cowards of us all. Wladimir Klitschko saved his energy and saved it and saved it, eleven rounds of saving, and that?s why he had energy in the last round. Again, he refused to test himself, to stand up to fatigue, to stand up to his safety-first nature, to stand up against an opponent who, let?s be honest, is not a beast in the ring. Instead, Klitschko stood down and paid with defeat.
As these two big men moved across the McFit logo emblazoned on the canvas, I couldn?t help thinking of another Mc-something. McFit is a fitness gym for the masses. McDonald?s is a burger joint for the masses. Mickey D?s may have the best commercials, images of Big Macs and Quarter Pounders with Cheese dolled-up to look delicious. But the truth is, bite into any McDonald?s burger and you won?t find anything Grade-A. It?s homogenized beef without substance. That?s what Wladimir Klitschko has been all along. He looks the part, but he isn?t the part, not in his heart. And perhaps that?s the reason Wladimir Klitschko never gained the kind of fame a decade-long champion should have gained in the States. Germans follow orders. They rarely stray. I?ve stood at crosswalks in Germany with no cars in sight, but the Germans will wait until the light says Walk. In our cities, we cross against the light, taking chances. Perhaps that?s foolish for pedestrians, but for fighters, real fighters, taking chances, seizing moments that have the potential to define careers, even when it means breaking rules of safety, even when it means working outside the parameters of boxing?s cerebral adage Protect yourself at all times, well, that?s the mark of greatness. I wonder if the overly-polite German crowd recognized the truth of their overly-hyped hero while he was getting his ass kicked.
Thank goodness Larry Holmes remains above Wladimir Klitschko in title defenses. Thank goodness Joe Louis reigns supreme in this heavyweight category. These two men, like countless other heavyweight champions, fought smart but they also took chances, they also fought beyond themselves when it was necessary (they?re fighters, after all!), and they secured their legacies. Wladimir Klitschko was never great. He was merely very good during an era when the rest of the heavyweights were a little less than very good. Most fighters cement their legacy with a win. Wladimir Klitschko?s legacy is cemented with this loss. His previous three losses were all stoppages, all against mediocre opponents. Wladimir came back from those defeats, and that?s commendable. But in this loss, he didn?t even fight. It wasn?t age. It wasn?t a bad night. It was Wladimir Klitschko being Wladimir Klitschko. That?s who he is. That?s who he?ll always be. That?s how he?ll go down in history.
