(Welcome to another edition of Sound & Fury, the boxing column that blackens eyes and skips clich?s. This week TCS looks at what the future might hold for Amir Khan, heaps dirt on Golden Boy Promotions and Pacquiao-Mayweather talk, wonders why anyone gives a second thought to Tyson Fury, looks into ?The Greatest Pay-Per-View Card in History,? and shows a certain amount of admiration the way sanctioning bodies hustle their marks with such ease.)
Tyson Fury and Derek Chisora gyrate for 12 stupefying rounds last week in a fight that, inexplicably, seemed to be a happening in London. There is even talk of a rematch, as if a second bite of moldy cheese is any more appetizing than the first. If Fury and Chisora do fight again, they should be forced to duke it out in the middle of a crop circle in Wiltshire.
That Chisora was within a wisp of fighting Wladimir Klitschko for a ?world? title is mind-boggling. Chisora, who looked like he trained on a steady diet of bangers and mash leading up to his bout with Fury, fights like a man who would find himself repeatedly locked into a bathroom on a plane. Of course, if Klitschko had not pulled out of the fight, British bookmakers would probably have installed Chisora as a 3-1 favorite going in. Kissing men at press conferences, apparently, is enough to get a reputation in the U.K. these days.
It is exasperating to note that hardly anyone in the press seems interested in stating the obvious: that Fury is a lumbering mediocrity and that Chisora is merely lumbering. Now, as stated here repeatedly, all fighters deserve respect?boxing is a taxing pursuit no matter what level a man ultimately reaches?and Fury is free to practice his trade whenever and wherever a remunerative market allows him to do so, but does that mean we have to pretend he can fight? Fury is another boxer whose only real accomplishment thus far is being obnoxious enough to capture the attention of people who believe boorishness is some kind of attribute. Vulgarity, it seems, is the new currency in this Reality TV, TMZ, ADHD, Gawker age, and boxing is increasingly using it to sell fighters who enter the ring with the bad intentions of a Quaker or an anchorite.
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After promising the greatest pay-per-view in history, Richard Schaefer recently announced that Erik Morales would be facing Jorge Barrios on the undercard of the split-site Mayweather-Ortiz extravaganza. This fight joins the much-anticipated Saul Alvarez-Alfonso Gomez waterboarding session and an ESPN2 fight between Jessie Vargas and Joselito Lopez. Every time Golden Boy Promotions promises a great card, they come up with a dumptruck full of steaming guano. God knows what they would deliver if they only promised a ?good? card or?heaven forbid there should be some honesty to be found in a promoter?a ?mediocre? or ?okay? card. Barrios has fought only four times in the last four years. More damning than anything, however, is this: Barrios is the last man Rocky Juarez managed to beat.
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Kenichi Yamaguchi entered the ring against Orlando Salido last week in Sonora, Mexico, dressed like a ninja. He was lucky not to leave it wrapped in a winding sheet. Yamaguchi showed unbelievable heart and moxie, but was poorly served by the referee, his cornermen, and the ringside physician, who should have spared him a flogging that will stick with him for a long, long time. It was a dreadful beating that should have been halted two or three rounds earlier. Every now and then Yamaguchi connected with a wild right or a haywire sequence of slapshots, but Salido took him apart piece by piece until the violent, inevitable end came in the 11th. Occasionally, Yamaguchi would also drop suddenly into a squat and spring back with an uppercut thrown from the canvas, but the element of surprise was lost after he repeated this outlandish maneuver a few times.
Salido remains the consummate professional in the ring?banging the body, feinting, working for openings, and fighting with poise?and Juan Manuel Lopez, who was at ringside for the Yamaguchi thrashing, is looking at his second consecutive KO loss unless he can suddenly discover the merits of head movement and keeping your chin down.
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Amir Khan easily outclassed Zab Judah last Saturday in Las Vegas and looked like a polished prizefighter for perhaps the first time in his career. By coming out at the opening bell and immediately establishing his jab, Khan seemed to be letting Judah know right away that there would be no frontrunning in the Mandalay Bay. Quick one-twos and straight right leads made Judah a wallflower in the ring, and he never got over his shyness. Judah failed to land more than a couple of right hooks and a few shots to the body. He spent most of the fight posturing on defense, a questionable tactic against a fighter with fast hands. You can duck and dodge a few blows, but when you are facing a fighter as hair-trigger quick as Khan is, you are going to get hit no matter how slick you think you are.
By the fifth round, Judah was breaking up. Blood threaded from his nose and mouth, and his right cheek was a misshapen lump. Halfway through the fifth, the two fighters were sparring in close when Khan ripped a right uppercut to the stomach. Despite sporting an impressive six-pack, Judah went down in agony. It was a shot that appeared to be right on the beltline, although Judah would later claim it was low. There was no doubt that Judah was hurt by the blow, but it seemed more likely that he was looking to get a call from Vic Drakulich, who simply began tolling the count. So Judah spent the final waning moments of his exasperating career listening to the referee count him out on his knees. It seems almost fitting that Judah had the word ?Godspeed? stitched onto his trunks.
