My boxing memory only reaches back to the end of the Carter Administration, with the rest relegated to tapes, print accounts, re-readings of Liebling, and mere hearsay. But in digging through the old files it seems a safe assumption to say that, by the end of 2001, Erik Morales probably had more critics and naysayers than any 40-0, two-division champ in history.
After escaping with a controversial split decision win over Marco Antonio Barrera in their epic first showdown the year previous, Morales eked out decision wins over Guty Espadas and In-Jin Chi in 2001, looking as though the hard miles in his career had caught up to him. Seemingly, this was not the “El Terrible” we knew, who imposed a fast pace and pinpoint power punching on opponents, willing himself to victory on the merits of his natural gifts, which seemed culled from the reservoir from which most Mexican battlers draw – great conditioning, intensity, heart and a willingness to trade until the other man wilts.
Instead, Morales virtually sleepwalked against Espadas and Chi. It seemed the edge had been irrevocably dulled; the Morales slowdown had all the cues of countless predecessors on the downward slide.
But fortunately, for Morales, that supposition was proven wrong, even in his first defeat in 2002 against Barrera. And subsequent battles against Barrera, where he lost two hard-fought classics, showed he just needs to feel the fire in the belly to bring his game up to its highest level.
And off the heels of his magnificent win over Manny Pacquiao in March, it’s one heck of a turnaround. If he’d been awarded a couple more rounds in the Barrera defeats (and credit for a possible knockdown in the second bout, which still remains fuzzy, but remains worthy of exploration, ex post facto), he’d be 50-0 and a lock for top spot on anyone’s pound for pound list. Even that of one D. Fischer, who hopefully will never run into Team Mayweather’s posse in a Vegas bathroom without pepper spray and/or security cameras. All in all, Morales’ turnaround is impressive for a featherweight who was believed by many to be a shot fighter four years ago.
Coming into his Saturday showdown with Zahir Raheem, Morales fights in one of those showcase doubleheaders, with Pacquiao facing Hector Velazquez, whose style should be perfect to build up a rematch. Velazquez is an aggressive catcher, and Pacquiao probably feels the same way about him that Hank Aaron did about telegraphed fastballs. It is an appetizer followed by a four-month wait for the main course, tentatively scheduled in a Jan. 21 rematch.
But while Pac Man-Morales is a can’t miss barnburner, it figures to be another tough, close distance fight. Perhaps with more of a debatable outcome, if Pac Man attacks the body more and changes up tactics a bit to not headhunt so much. But The Corner, feeling estranged lately since the first half of the year was so great, and recent televised offerings so terrible, would rather see Morales take on Diego Corrales, provided Corrales gets past Jose Luis Castillo Oct. 8, which is no easy feat. Corrales-Morales would be a phenomenal matchup. And it rhymes, to boot.
While it’s a good line of reasoning to figure that Corrales may simply be too big for Morales, Erik has never been knocked out, and has only been down once, on a questionable call in the first Barrera fight. He also has an astute jab and overlooked boxing skills, and it’d be a fascinating test of his tactical envelope and resolve to see him battle Corrales, who has crushing power. Castillo would be a great battle as well, with his pressure style. And the winner of Castillo-Corrales II could be damaged goods, given their concussive styles. I wouldn’t count out Morales against either of them.
If Morales did win that fourth divisional belt, he might beat Barrera once and for all in a way that would top even besting Pacquiao twice. That’s why Corrales (or Castillo) might be the biggest prize out there for him. It seems redundant to stage Barrera-Morales again….there are only so many bullets in the gun for each guy, and it seems a waste to spend them on each other once more when there are so many other great matchups they could make against hungry fighters aspiring for the big shot.
Tarver camp notes suggest champ isn’t taking Jones lightly
Notes from Antonio Tarver’s preparations are probably reassuring for those wagering on Tarver, who is –225 to Jones’ +185. That seems a steal given Roy’s diminished reflexes and inability to control the action against Glen Johnson. Even dismissing the Tarver loss as a massive stroke of timing on Antonio’s part, it’s hard to fathom how anyone can see Jones struggle against Johnson and not see a ghost.
“Right now we’re working because we don’t want to take anything for granted,” Tarver said in a statement issued from his camp. “When the smoke clears we want to be standing on top. We don’t want to leave no stones unturned. We’re remaining focused. People say that Roy’s not himself. Well, I’m not gonna make the mistake of just relaxing and allowing this guy to even have a chance. What we’re doing now is removing any remote possibility of luck. And the only way we can do that is to work hard, and come prepared for anything and be ready to face the best Roy Jones ever.”
Despite most pre-fight boilerplate hyperbole being just that (tautologies aside), Tarver is probably not blowing smoke. Jones has always been his chief rival, even though Roy never really seemed to feel likewise until after their first match. It was as though his ego wouldn’t allow anyone to attain that status.
That ego – which is what drives a fighter to build himself up over the years, and make the countless sacrifices to become great – is the undoing of virtually every pugilist. In a nutshell, Tarver-Jones III seems a bout with a very limited upside for the sport, and so much potential bad mojo that I’m surprised more people aren’t considering how awful this match could be for boxing.
While Jones’ wonderfully physical gifts were the driving mechanism that allowed him to dominate top-level opponents for a decade, the overall synthesis of those gifts was a rare brand of ring generalship that allowed him to dictate when people punched. Whether he threw 70 or 30 shots a round, chances are foes would land in single-digits and do little to disrupt his rhythm. His ring generalship was a mastery of geometry, and timing, that made good fighters look like unpolished rubes.
His feet were too quick to successfully counter him, and if you tried to pressure him he’d simply counter you silly, or give you a freebie stretch, if you were rough enough to get him on the ropes, where his defense was largely impenetrable and a few dazzling shots were usually enough to change your mind from trying it again. He won a higher percentage of rounds than anyone who fought at the championship level for so long (the competition argument is a separate one, something we will not broach here).
But against Johnson, Jones couldn’t get the ball. It was a pernicious decline, seeing him bullied, cuffed, and caught with shots that wouldn’t have come within a foot of him just a few years ago. Johnson has a high-tempo pressure style, and Tarver is more content to box, which could allow Jones more leeway to work around adjusting for what he no longer has in his arsenal. But Tarver’s big power, and confidence that he can take Jones’ best shot, should make the result inevitable.
Jones has teamed up with his father, Roy, Sr., to prepare for this fight, and that offers another wildly variable subplot. Daddy Jones was criticized for protecting his son too much early in his career, and that and other factors led to an acrimonious split, which had alternating thaws and freezes as Roy’s career progressed.
If he was worried about his son facing decent comp as a middleweight prospect, when he seemed the second coming of Sugar Ray Robinson, how will Roy Sr. feel if Tarver starts beating Junior up early? How long will it take before the toughest decision is made? Eddie Futch may have saved Joe Frazier’s from permanent injury or worse, in keeping Joe on his stool before the fifteenth round in Manila against Muhammad Ali. And in doing so, he may have saved boxing from one hell of a disaster. Futch knew when it was time to put the ego aside; that isn’t always the case in the corner, and when familial bonds are involved it gets invariably complicated.
Anonymous fighters in boxing leave the ring permanently hurt, and killed, on a chillingly regular basis. Over the long haul, we justify the loss of a Beethavean Scotland, Brad Rone, or one of many other tragedies as inevitable realities. Since 2004 alone, there have been 11 documented deaths from boxing matches worldwide. How many can you name? In a sad way, that insulates us from the tragedies.
A high-profile incident seems to impact the sport far more, a phenomenon unfair to those lesser-known victims, simply because it penetrates the general sporting consciousness, illuminating the dark side of the game for all to see. Duk Koo Kim made the cover of Sports Illustrated. Robert Wangila didn’t. If Jones were to suffer a tragedy in there, there will be recriminations galore.
If we’re going to ban Evander Holyfield from fighting off a TKO defeat to James Toney (where he was as competitive as Jones was against Johnson), and a string of lackluster decision losses, what exempts Jones from being put up against similar risks? Money.
Holyfield can’t make millions these days. Jones can.
So much for equivalent ethical standards.
It could be a meaningless concern, but a little prevention goes a long way. It would be boxing’s equivalent of Hurricane Katrina, but the difference is that people want to rebuild the Gulf Coast, and do whatever possible to restore it to its previous condition. I’m not so sure they’d feel the same way about boxing.
There’s also the case of Roy winning. If he does, it would be a fantastic way to end a career with his father in the corner (and if he does pull the trick off, it makes you wonder what they will do with the Ring championship belt).
But the risk-to-benefit ratio is grossly skewed toward a bad end. All the reasons for coming back for a fighter in Roy’s situation don’t apply. Money? He has more dough than most OPEC nations. Belts? He has enough to stock an entire room with ‘em. Glory? He’s already a first-ballot Hall of Famer.
For a father who used to run behind his kid hitting him in the calves with PVC pipe when he slowed his pace while running, or put him in as a teenager against heavyweights, it makes you wonder what Roy. Sr. will do if things turn sour.
The Floyd Mayweather duo don’t work together anymore, but at least Floyd, Sr. can reconcile himself to the fact that his kid is pretty much safe from harm’s way against anybody that walks on less than three legs. The Joneses are far removed from that comfort zone. Here’s hoping that if things turn bad Oct. 1, someone has the sense to stop it, because the world will be watching.
