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What We Learned in 2011…NGUYEN
Amir Khan is Good…But Not Great
There was a lot of talk as to whether Amir Khan’s pairing with Freddie Roach would prove to be the first step toward true greatness.
The verdict appears to be in: no.
Sure, against fighters who allow him to be a combination-punching prodigy, Khan can really look impressive, as he demonstrated against Malignaggi and Judah. But against fighters who are unwilling to be accomplices, Khan doesn’t look anything like an all-time great. Marcos Maidana made him look pretty vulnerable, and Lamont Peterson made him look pretty ordinary.
A great fighter shouldn’t get walked down as easily as Khan can be. A great fighter shouldn’t hit the panic button when Plan A stops working.
Maybe I’m wrong, and perhaps the youthful Khan will learn and develop, but it’s hard to see a guy who might not be the best in his division end up being one of the best who ever did it.
Andre Ward Will Eventually Be Pound-for-Pound #1, but Will Never Be a Crossover Star
The consensus choice for Fighter of the Year, Andre Ward, has proven himself to be a special fighter throughout the Super Six Boxing Classic. By the end of the tournament, the question wasn’t really whether Ward would win, but whether he would make the type of grand statement a superstar tends to make in that type of situation.
The statement he ended up making was beautifully articulate, albeit softly spoken, which doesn’t bode well for Ward’s crossover appeal.
Let’s examine, for a moment, the blueprint for the two biggest crossover stars boxing has produced in the past generation: Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather.
For Pacquiao, the blueprint to stardom was simple: fight like a maniac, and eventually people will notice. Couple with that a G-rated personality and understated charm, and the final product is a lucrative one.
For Mayweather, the mock-up was a bit different. He isn’t the same high-contact fighter that Pacquiao is, so he didn’t achieve his status with blood and guts. Mayweather, though, is a genius of charisma. He realizes that controversy pays, and he’s been more than willing to embroil himself in scandalous situations. Sure he’s been booed, but he’s also converted those boos into a lot of green.
This creates quite a quandary for Andre Ward. He’s not a blood-and-guts fighter like Pacquiao; he’s a brilliantly talented technician. He’s not a comic book villain like Mayweather; he’s the epitome of a gentleman.
To put it in acting terms, Ward is the boxing equivalent of a brilliant character actor. He has the skills to play any role in any film to critical acclaim. But he’s not an action hero who does his own stunts. He’s not a controversial Hollywood star who’s always in the tabloid headlines. His type of craft and personality just doesn’t lend itself to the causal fan’s appreciation.
Don’t get me wrong; I love watching Andre Ward fight. You probably do, too. But I’m not a causal boxing fan. If you’re still reading this, you aren’t either. Crossover fighters manage to draw viewers who wouldn’t ordinarily watch a fight. They get recognized by people who aren’t sports fans.
Unfortunately, Andre Ward will never be able to do that.
Sergio Martinez May Never Get a Defining Fight
At 36-years old, Martinez is running out of time to land a career-defining fight. He’s bordering on delusional if he thinks he’ll get Pacquiao or Mayweather in the ring with him, and Miguel Cotto has nothing to gain by stepping in with him. Julio Cesar Chavez, Jr. is still too pose the type of challenge on which Martinez can build a legacy. Smoking an unimpressive crop of middleweights does little to enhance his image. Martinez is in a very tight spot, and the urgency is showing; the usually gentlemanly Martinez has taken to trash talk to goad a big-name opponent to step up to the plate.
It might be that Martinez’ greatest opponent will be the only undefeated, undisputed champ in all weight classes: Father Time.
In His Advancing Age, Floyd Mayweather Can Actually Make for a Fun Fight
The knock on Mayweather (and it’s hard to find faults in his nearly flawless skillset) is that he almost never makes for exciting fights. Aside from a handful of mismatches (Corrales, N’dou, Gatti), Mayweather’s fights can sometimes be as exciting as watching Gary Kasparov pick apart the high school chess club champ. Mayweather’s surgical precision is supremely impressive even if not awe-inspiring.
However, that’s changed a bit in his last two fights. Against Mosley, Mayweather provided some unexpected excitement by getting drilled and very nearly KO’d in the second round. Mayweather, much to his credit, steadied the ship quickly and established his dominance for every remaining second of the fight. What gets forgotten is that Mayweather tattooed Mosley with numerous hard shots throughout the rest of those twelve rounds. Maybe Mosley couldn’t pull the trigger anymore, but he also had a good reason for being reluctant. Had Mayweather gone against his instincts and really pressed Mosley, it’s not unthinkable that he could’ve pulled a stoppage.
In Mayweather’s fight with Victor Ortiz, Mayweather was not reluctant to engage with the freakishly big Ortiz. He planted his feet and drilled the bigger man and created maybe the most exciting four rounds of his career. Sure, Ortiz’ pressure created the perfect storm for excitement, but Mayweather’s willingness to do battle was another key component.
Maybe the extended time off has allowed his notoriously brittle hands to heal. Maybe, as a fighter in his mid-thirties, Mayweather now has to be more offensively focused. Regardless of the reasons, Floyd is now a more crowd-pleasing fighter. We all win when that’s the case.
Manny Pacquiao Will Never Beat Floyd Mayweather
Please follow the logic carefully:
Manny Pacquiao + Precision Counterpuncher (e.g. Juan Manuel Marquez) = Lots of trouble for Manny
Floyd Mayweather = Elusive counterpuncher of unparalleled virtuosity
Manny Pacquiao + Floyd Mayweather = A style mismatch of epic proportions
Antonio Margarito Has Been a B-Level Fighter Since the Handwrap Scandal
Take that any way you want it.
You Can’t Make a Bad Fight at Junior Middleweight
Consider, for a moment, the marquee names at 154: Miguel Cotto, Canelo Alvarez, James Kirkland, Alfredo Angulo.
Add in lesser-known gems like Erislandy Lara and Carlos Molina. Toss in some exciting shopworn names like Paul Williams, Antonio Margarito, and Ricardo Mayorga.
Combine ingredients and stir. Await combustion.
Erik Morales is the Mexican Clint Eastwood
Not too long ago, Erik Morales was considered to be well past his expiration date as a relevant fighter. After dropping four straight fights, and looking increasingly shopworn in each, Morales looked done.
So when Morales came back after retiring, it seemed ill-advised even if it was less than surprising. When Morales signed on to fight Argentinian toughguy Marcos Maidana, many pundits were genuinely concerned about whether Morales would emerge from the fight intact.
Morales not only emerged intact, but he gave Maidana the fight of his life. You had the feeling that if Clint Eastwood was watching that fight, he’d be nodding his head in sneering approval of a fellow elderly tough guy. Even though Morales lost a razor-thin decision, it was an instance where the moral victory meant just as much as the decision victory would have.
In his most recent fight against Pablo Cesar Cano, Morales outlasted and beat down a younger, fresher foe. Erik Morales will never regain his past glory, but he is living proof that a fighter can retire, but a tough guy never really goes away.
No Boxing Fan Has Endured as Much as the British Fight Fan
At one time it was Frank Bruno on whom British hearts were dashed. More recently, it was Ricky Hatton.
With heartbreaks aplenty this year, 2011 was far from a banner year for our neighbors across the pond.
Matthew Macklin and Martin Murray were both hosed against Felix Sturm. After some of the best trash talk in years, David Haye turned in a non-effort against Wladimir Klitschko. Dereck Chisora was victim of maybe the worst decision of the year against Robert Helenius. John Murray might have earned the award for most facial discoloration during a fight in getting lumped up by Brandon Rios. Most recently, Amir Khan was on the short end of a highly controversial decision against Lamont Peterson.
Maybe 2012 will be a better year for high-profile British boxing. Until then, God save the queen.
Julio Cesar Chavez, Jr. Might Actually Become a Pretty Good Fighter
Count me among the innumerable skeptics who saw Julio Cesar Chavez, Jr. as an opportunistic brat who was aiming to cash in on his old man’s name. As the wins kept stacking up against tomato cans, I thought it would be a matter of time until he had his head handed to him.
Which is why I was quite surprised to see Chavez’ noticeable improvements against Peter Manfredo. Rather than employing his usual high impact, marginal skill level approach, Chavez fought intelligently, maintained appropriate distance, and won on guile rather than grit.
I’m not saying he’ll eclipse his dad, or that he’ll even come close. But Chavez might prove to be an elite level fighter in his own right.
Victor Ortiz is the New Terry Norris
In the 1990s, there weren’t too many fighters who were more physically talented than “Terrible” Terry Norris. He was a smooth boxing, hard punching, athletically gifted fighter. He holds victories over a who’s who of big names from the 80s and 90s: John Mugabi, Sugar Ray Leonard, Donald Curry, Maurice Blocker, Meldrick Taylor, Simon Brown. Norris’ credentials were enough to land him in Canestota as a first-ballot Hall of Famer. To go with his fistic aptitude, Norris was charming, well-spoken, and good-looking, making him, pretty much, any promoter’s dream. Don King hit the jackpot when he signed (and then criminally underpromoted) Terry Norris.
But why was Norris never the crossover superstar that he promised to be at so many moments during his career? Because during the moments when he was on the verge of becoming known outside the boxing faithful, one of two things failed him: his chin or his nerves.
Sound like someone in 2011?
Now, I’ll go ahead and concede that it’s more than a stretch to compare Hall of Famer Terry Norris with Victor Ortiz; the latter has a heck of a lot to prove before he’s even in a discussion of being HOF worthy. Still, the underlying parallels between the two are intriguing. (Note: Terry Norris accompanied Ortiz into the ring prior to his high-profile showdown with Floyd Mayweather.)
Norris’ chin was probably his greatest foe during his career. He was KO’d in his first world title attempt against Julian Jackson, which is forgivable considering Jackson might be one of the biggest single-shot punchers ever in the game. Another of Norris’ stoppage losses, against Laurent Boudouani in what would be his final pro fight, was also pardonable since Norris was far-removed from his prime. Still, Norris was stopped by fighters against whom he was the superior fighter: Simon Brown and Keith Mullings. Combine those with shaky moments against the likes of Troy Waters, and the verdict is simple: Norris had one of the most vulnerable chins of any Hall of Famer.
Victor Ortiz’ chin is perhaps a bit more reliable than Norris’, but his durability cost him dearly in his much-scrutinized loss to Marcos Maidana, and nearly cost him against Andre Berto. For a high-contact boxer like Ortiz, it isn’t too much of a stretch to see his jaw becoming a factor again in his career.
Along with questionable durability, another similarity Ortiz has with Norris has to do with self-control. One of the many things that separates a prizefighter from a bar-fighter is the ability to keep a cool head. During three moments in his career, Terry Norris was unable to keep his nerves in check. He was disqualified three times against fighters who he should have dusted easily. Whether it was drilling Joe Walker in the back of the head after he went down, blasting Luis Santana after the bell, or rabbit punching Santana, or (in a rematch of his previous DQ loss), Terry Norris was the classic non-example when discussing composure in the ring.
That is, until Victor Ortiz came along.
Early in Ortiz’ career, he was disqualified for hitting journeyman Corey Alarcon on a break (although replays showed that Alarcon made the most of the foul with some well-executed, agonized writhing). Maybe we could give Ortiz a break for making a dumb, immature error in the heat of the moment, but it proved not to be an isolated incident. Against Floyd Mayweather, in Ortiz’ biggest chance to shine, he came apart again when he committed the mother of all stupid fouls when he tried to rearrange Mayweather’s dental work with a flagrant headbutt to the mush (the culmination of several earlier headbutt attempts). The even more maddening part was that the headbutt punctuated what had been Ortiz’ best offensive rally of the fight, one which made Mayweather look visibly uncomfortable. Controversial ending aside, Ortiz did himself in the moment he decided to unleash the foul.
Clearly, Ortiz has a lot to prove before the comparison with Terry Norris comes full circle, but his penchant for vulnerability and chaotic in-ring behavior still makes it an interesting one. Like Norris, though, Ortiz has all the ingredients necessary to be a crossover star; that’s why Golden Boy signed him, after all. The problem is, he also has a couple of flaws that could permanently keep him from realizing that potential. Regardless, Ortiz has proven to be must-see-TV, even if it isn’t always for the reasons he’d like.
Roy Jones is the New Evander Holyfield
Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling of Moscow’s Sport Complex Krylatskoe, Roy Jones was unaware of what was taking place around him.
He was unaware of the wildly celebratory crowd.
He was unaware that his opponent, Denis Lebedev, stood across the ring, basking in what amounted to a meaningless conquest against a once great, but now shot fighter.
He was unaware that referee Steve Smoger was waving off the contest with just seconds remaining in the fight.
It was evident that in those frightening moments following Lebedev’s fight-ending right hand that Roy Jones was oblivious to the world around him.
Jones’ comments in the post-fight press conference indicated his lacking comprehension of what just took place.
“Sorry I didn’t get the victory, but Denis is a very tough competitor,” Jones said.
It wasn’t that Jones came up short. It wasn’t that he didn’t come up with the victory. He either didn’t understand or didn’t want to acknowledge the frightful scene that had just taken place.
Jones’ post-fight statement was the type of anesthetized, reflexive answer a fighter offers when he doesn’t know what else to say. Truthfully, for supporters of Roy Jones, there is little else that needs saying. The image of him helplessly stretched out on the canvas, for the fourth time in seven years, was brutally articulate.
Which is why Jones’ comments since that distressingly violent ending all the more troubling. Jones has designs on challenging for a cruiserweight title, claiming maybe the only title that has eluded him during his magnificent career. It was a career that saw him reach unimaginable heights, claiming titles at middleweight, super-middleweight, light heavyweight, and, at perhaps the apex of his career, heavyweight.
Then the bottom dropped out.
It wasn’t even as though Superman had been exposed to kryptonite. It was like he had it surgically implanted in his chest cavity, was receiving it intravenously, and was being fed it for breakfast. The accelerated implosion of the once-invincible Roy Jones was unlike anything the sport had ever seen. Even for Jones’ detractors, this was not the ending anyone saw coming.
Jones’ painful disintegration is not unlike that of another great fighter: Evander Holyfield.
Holyfield himself has experienced a couple of career resurrections in his career. Many wrote him off after his first professional loss in a war with Riddick Bowe. Others thought he was finished after he was diagnosed with a serious heart condition after dropping a decision to Michael Moorer. Still others thought he was washed up after losing the rubber match to Bowe. Those people grossly underestimated the greatness of The Real Deal. Evander Holyfield had yet to achieve the greatest heights of his career.
In hindsight, maybe those comebacks were curses in disguise for Holyfield. When it was evident that he no longer had the abilities that had made him an all-time great, Holyfield refused to call it a day. A strong believer that divine intervention led to his past accomplishments, Holyfield called upon the same power to help him regain the undisputed heavyweight title, a crusade Holyfield vowed to continue before he would retire. It is a crusade that the 49-year old Holyfield continues today.
Now Jones, who turns 43 in January, finds himself embarking on a no-less unlikely task to become a cruiserweight titlist. Jones no doubt bases his dogged determination on his peerless past brilliance, on the flashes of that brilliance that remain even in his advanced age, and on his own stubborn determination to do this his own way, which he has always done since the start of his career.
When Jones made a sad return this month to win a decision against clubfighter Max Alexander, he claimed that it was the start of bigger things. Of course he did. What else is he supposed to say?
Now, away from the pulverizing fists of a relentless opponent, away from the bright lights and television cameras, away from the demanding reporters asking questions for which he has few answers, Roy Jones is probably in the most dangerous situation a fighter can be.
I say probably because I don’t know Roy Jones personally. I have not been with him as he has tried to make sense of what his career has become. I have not seen firsthand the effects of what it does to a man to lose what is essentially his identity as a fighter. I won’t be with him in the days and weeks ahead as he ponders what’s next. And I certainly don’t know what the future holds for him.
But what I do know is the mentality of a prizefighter. Fighters aren’t known to be content with circumstance. Fighters don’t go quietly into the night. Fighters don’t walk away from struggles, no matter how insurmountable the obstacles or improbable the odds. There is always one more battle to fight, and one more point to prove.
This mindset so prevalent among fighters is why we love boxing. It is a more graphic, visceral demonstration of courage than is displayed in any other sport. There is a point, however, that bravery turns to foolishness, and ambition turns to delusion.
Yes, Roy Jones is in the terribly treacherous position of being a fighter with something to prove, even if the point he is trying to prove rests only in his own mind. If Jones were to walk away from boxing today, he would be remembered as one of the very best to ever lace up a pair of gloves. He would have nothing to be ashamed of or apologize for.
It’s doubtless that some, perhaps most, close to Jones have shared this with him, suggesting that his boxing career should have reached the end of the line. Logic would indicate that his skills are not what they used to be, and that the ravages of boxing have aged his body to the point that he is no longer able to compete at the elite level.
Equally doubtless, though, is the likelihood that the prizefighter mentality has planted itself firmly in the back of Roy Jones’ mind. The only question is which impulse will prove stronger, which will be more convincing. For the sake of Jones and those who hold him dear, let’s hope logic overtakes instinct.
Contrary to boxing wisdom, it isn’t speed that kills. What does is the deadly combination of a fighter with a consuming passion to prove something, but is no longer capable of proving it. If I get only one wish for 2012, it’s that Roy Jones will no longer be an ingredient in a recipe for disaster.
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Remembering the Macho Man, Hector Camacho, a Great Sporting Character
Twelve years ago tomorrow, on Nov. 24, 2012, Hector Camacho was officially declared dead. He was effectively dead before then, having suffered a heart attack in the hospital after his spinal cord had been severed by a bullet, but his attendants at the hospital in Bayamon, Puerto Rico, waited until his mother had arrived from New York to remove him from life support.
At the age of 50, one of the most charismatic personalities in the sporting life of America was silenced forever.
Hector “Macho” Camacho, the Macho Man, was flamboyant – boy was he ever – but he was also a great talent. A three-time New York City Golden Gloves champion, reputedly 96-4 as an amateur, he was undefeated in 31 bouts at 135 pounds and below and went on to conquer some of the sport’s biggest names – Boom Boom Mancini, Vinny Pazienza, Roberto Duran (twice), Sugar Ray Leonard – before the sun set on his long career.
Camacho was born in Bayamon but grew up in Spanish Harlem where his mother moved when he was four. He was 21 years old and 21-0 as a junior lightweight when he was first profiled in Sports Illustrated, then the best medium for enhancing the marketability of a young athlete. At this juncture in his life, Hector, who became a father at age 17, was still living in a Spanish Harlem housing project, sharing an apartment with his 38-year-old mother, his stepfather, three siblings, a niece and a nephew.
By then he had already been expelled from six schools and was no stranger to the legal system, having spent 3 ½ months at New York’s notorious Rikers Island for — as Pat Putnam phrased it — borrowing other people’s automobiles without their permission.
The story in S.I. noted that Camacho’s reflexes were so quick that he could play two video games at once. Among his many physical attributes, it was his hand speed that attracted the most attention. When he ramped up his offense, his fists were a blur. But eventually, when folks thought of Camacho, what they remembered was his choirboy face with the spit curl in the middle of his forehead and his outrageous ring costumes which ran the gamut from a loincloth to a dress.
Hot-dogging came natural to Hector Camacho; it was embedded in his DNA. And in common with Muhammad Ali, he could be arrogant without coming across as arrogant. There was an impish quality to his bravado. He was fun to be around and, in his own words, could light up a room like a Christmas tree.
What Camacho lacked was any capacity for embarrassment.
Former WBA super bantamweight champion Clarence “Bones” Adams, who is now the proprietor of a Las Vegas gym that bears his name, became fast friends with the Macho Man when both trained in Las Vegas, the host city for their most lucrative fights. Mention Camacho’s name to Adams and a smile creases his face if he doesn’t burst out laughing.
“One day after Hector and I had gone jogging,” recollects Adams, “we drove over to the old White Cross Drugs [on the north Strip near the Stratosphere] to grab a bite to eat at their lunch counter. When we left and were standing outside by the car, Hector said, ‘Hold on a minute, I have to go pee.’ I said I’ll wait for you but then I noticed he was already peeing. Some cars honked as they passed by.
“Greg Hannely, my manager at the time, and I went to Detroit in 2000 to support Hector who was on the undercard of a show featuring Thomas Hearns. At the weigh-in, Hector wore a long shirt with nothing underneath it. This wasn’t apparent until he stepped off the scale and started doing jumping jacks.
“Hector,” continues Adams, “once had a Ferrari that he misplaced; he couldn’t remember where he parked it. He never did recover that car, but he wasn’t too bothered by it. His attitude was, ‘there’s always more where it came from.’” (Presumably this was the same Ferrari that Camacho was driving when he was ticketed for driving too slow with a suspended license on a Florida highway while being pleasured by a woman sitting astride him.)
Historians would compartmentalize Camacho’s career into two segments. Part One ended with his successful lightweight title defense against Edwin Rosario at Madison Square Garden on June 13, 1986.
Camacho kept his undefeated record intact, prevailing on a split decision, but ended the fight looking as if he had taken all the worst of it. Badly hurt in the fifth round and again in the 11th, he repaired to his dressing room with a swollen nose and two black eyes.
This fight, reads a story in a Canadian paper, “persuaded him to scale back his ultra-aggressive style in favor of a more cerebral, defensive approach.” That’s a diplomatic way of saying that Camacho devolved into a runner.
In his next fight, Camacho proved too clever for Cornelius Boza-Edwards, winning a unanimous decision, but the crowd didn’t like it when Hector spent the last two rounds on his bicycle and there were boos aplenty as the match wended to its conclusion. This would be the Macho Man’s final fight as a lightweight. He moved up to 140 where a slew of attractive match-ups awaited, notably a showdown with Julio Cesar Chavez.
Camacho and Chavez touched gloves in Las Vegas on Sept. 13, 1992, before an announced crowd of 19,100 at the UNLV basketball arena in what reportedly was the fastest sellout in Las Vegas boxing history up to that date. Chavez, widely seen as the top pound-for-pound fighter in the sport, advanced his record to 82-0 with a lopsided decision, winning all 12 rounds on the card of one of the judges. The Macho Man, who had avenged his lone defeat to Greg Haugen, declined to 41-2.
This wasn’t a milquetoast performance by Camacho. He simply couldn’t deal with Chavez’s unrelenting pressure. LA Times scribe Alan Malamud wrote that Hector showed unexpected grit by trading with Chavez after his legs were gone, thereby reducing him to a stationary target. But more brickbats came Camacho’s way following setbacks to Felix Trinidad and Oscar De La Hoya. He lasted the distance in both bouts but was roundly out-pointed. By the third round of the De La Hoya fight, wrote Kevin Iole, it was a foregone conclusion that De La Hoya would win.
Between the Trinidad and De La Hoya fights, staged 44 months apart, Camacho had 21 fights and won them all. His victims were mostly journeyman with two notable exceptions. On June 22, 1996, he scored a 12-round unanimous decision over 45-year-old Roberto Duran. Eight months later, he defeated another faded legend when he stopped Sugar Ray Leonard in the fifth round. Leonard, who had been out of the ring for six years, was forever retiring and unretiring and Camacho retired him for good. Both bouts were in Atlantic City.
A wag wrote that Sugar Ray was 40 years old going on 41 and that Camacho was 35 years old going on puberty.
Camacho’s advisors kept him busy to keep his name in the news and Hector did his part by making the news for bad behavior outside the ring. In January of 2005, he was arrested for the November 2004 burglary of a computer store in Gulfport, Mississippi. He went there to retrieve a laptop that was being repaired but entered the property after hours by way of the ceiling. An illegal drug, ecstasy, was found in his hotel room when he was placed under arrest.
After serving five months in jail, Camacho was released with the understanding that he would be placed under house arrest for one year when he returned to Puerto Rico but, by all accounts, the authorities in Puerto Rico were never notified of this arrangement.
Camacho’s frequent misdeeds, once seen as the amusing antics of a fun-loving man-child, came to be seen in a different light as he grew older; as a pattern of behavior that betrayed a dark side in his personality.
In a 1985 conversation with New York Times boxing writer Michael Katz, Camacho’s estranged manager Billy Giles said, “someday he’ll wind up like Tyrone Everett, maybe worse,” the reference to a talented junior lightweight from Philadelphia who was murdered under sordid circumstances.
That proved to be eerily prophetic.
Camacho had 20 more fights after his hollow performance against Oscar De La Hoya, ending his career as a bloated middleweight. His only noteworthy opponent during this final phase of his boxing career was Duran who was then 50 years old when they clashed in Denver. In a bout that echoed their first meeting, Hector won a unanimous decision. This was Roberto Duran’s farewell fight. Camacho soldiered on for eight more bouts, winning five.
In November of 2012, thirty months after his last ring assignment, Hector Camacho and a companion were ambushed as they sat in a car in the darkened parking lot of a Bayamon, Puerto Rico bar. The companion died instantly in the hail of bullets. Police found nine packets of cocaine on the decedent and an open packet of cocaine in the car.
Camacho’’s funeral was held at Harlem’s landmark Saint Cecilia’s Church. Hundreds of mourners stood in the cold outside the church as his casket was being placed in the funeral car. They cheered and shouted Camacho’s battle cry, “Macho Time,” as the hearse pulled away.
They say you shouldn’t speak bad about the dead, so we will let Bones Adams have the last word. “Hector had his demons,” says Adams, “but he was a great friend, a nice, kind, and caring guy.”
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Editor’s note: For more on Hector Camacho, check out Christian Giudice’s biography, “Macho Time: The Meteoric Rise and Tragic Fall of Hector Camacho,” published by Hamilcar in 2020.
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Avila Perspective, Chap. 304: A Year of Transformation in Boxing and More
A subtle transformation in professional boxing is taking place with the biggest fights no longer placed in Las Vegas, New York or Los Angeles. Instead, they are heading to the Middle East.
Golden Boy Promotions joined the crowd last week with one of their stronger fight cards taking place in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The main attractions were new unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto “Zurdo” Ramirez of Mexico along with Puerto Rico’s diminutive Oscar Collazo unifying the minimumweight division.
And there is more to come.
Matchroom Boxing seemed to lead the way in this rerouting of major boxing events. It goes as far back as December 2019 when Anthony Joshua fought Andy Ruiz in a rematch for the heavyweight championship in Diriyah, Saudi Arabia.
Little by little major fights are being rerouted to Saudi Arabia.
Is it a good thing or not?
For promoters looking to cut costs it’s definitely welcomed. But what does it do for the fan base accustomed to saving their money to buy tickets for one or two major events?
Now there is talk of Shakur Stevenson, Devin Haney and Terence Crawford heading to the Middle East to fight on major cards sponsored by “Riyad Spring.” It’s a new avenue for the sport of pro boxing.
This past week Golden Boy and its roster of Latino fighters took its turn and showed off their brand of aggressive fights. Some like Collazo and Arnold Barboza made the best of their moments. And, of course, Zurdo proved he should have moved up in weight years ago. He could be the Comeback Fighter of the Year.
Benavidez vs Morrell
Interim light heavyweight champion David Benavidez accepted a challenge from WBA light heavyweight titlist David Morrell to meet on Feb. 1 at T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas.
Bad blood between the two tall fighters already exists.
Morrell claims Benavidez is over-rated.
“I’m getting the knockout. 100%. He’s all talk and no bite. He can’t do what he thinks he’s gonna do,” said Morrell. “He has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s provoking me and now I want to go out there and beat the crap out of him. I’m here now and none of that talk matters.”
Benavidez begs to differ.
“Here we are again. I told you that I was going to give you the fights you want to see, and now we’re here,” Benavidez said while in Los Angeles. “Morrell has been talking about me for a while and disrespecting me. He wanted to make it personal with me, so I’m personally going to break his mouth. That’ll give him something to remember me by.”
Also scheduled to fight on the fight card are Isaac Cruz, Stephen Fulton, Brandon Figueroa and Jesus Ramos Jr.
Netflix
No surprise for me with the massive success of the Jake Paul and Mike Tyson event on the Most Valuable Promotions boxing card last week.
According to Netflix there were 108 million people tuned into the event last Friday that also featured the incredible Amanda Serrano and Katie Taylor rematch. Another exciting card was the men’s welterweight clash between Mario Barrios and Abel Ramos that ended in a draw.
If fans weren’t satisfied with the Paul fight, they certainly got their fulfillment with the world title fights, especially Serrano and Taylor who were estimated to be viewed by more than 72 million people. No female fight in history can touch those numbers.
So, what’s next for Netflix in terms of boxing?
West Coast Blues
Southern California is usually a hotbed for boxing events no matter what time of the year. But this year only a few boxing cards are taking place within a driving distance until the end of the year.
Las Vegas is in slumber and Southern California has a few smaller boxing cards still on schedule. Arizona has a significant Top Rank fight card in a few weeks as does Golden Boy Promotions in the Inland Empire.
Here are some upcoming fight events worth noting:
Dec. 5 – at OC Hangar in Costa Mesa, Calif. Vlad Panin vs Sal Briceno by SOCA Fights.
Dec. 7 – at Footprint Center in Phoenix, Rafael Espinoza vs Robeisy Ramirez and Oscar Valdez vs Emanuel Navarrete by Top Rank.
Dec. 13, at Chumash Casino 360 in Santa Ynez, Calif. Carlos Balderas vs Cesar Villarraga by 360 Promotions.
Dec. 14 at Toyota Arena in Ontario, Calif. Alexis Rocha vs Raul Curiel by Golden Boy Promotions.
Turkeys in East L.A.
The 25th annual Turkey Giveaway by Golden Boy takes place on Saturday Nov. 23, at Oscar De La Hoya Animo High School starting at 11 a.m.
It’s incredible that 25 years have passed since the inception of this yearly event. Many current and past fighters for the promotion company will be passing out turkeys and meeting fans. Among those expected to appear are Alexis Rocha, Victor Morales, Joel Iriarte, Bryan Lua and others.
Photo: Eddie Hearn, Frank Warren, and HE Turki Alalshikh at the Joshua-Dubois fight
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Philly’s Jesse Hart Continues His Quest plus Thoughts on Tyson-Paul and ‘Boots’ Ennis
Jesse Hart (31-3, 25 KOs) returns to the ring tomorrow night (Friday, Nov. 22) on a Teflon Promotions card at the Liacouras Center on the campus of Temple University. During a recent media workout for the show, which will feature five other local fighters in separate bouts, Hart was adamant that fighting for the second time this year at home will only help in his continuing quest to push towards a second chance at a world championship. “Fighting at home is always great and it just makes sense from a business standpoint since I already have a name in the sport and in the city,” said Hart (pictured on the left).
Hart’s view of where his career currently resides in relation to the landscape in the light heavyweight division leads you to believe that, at the age of 35, Hart is realistic about how far he can go before his career is over.
“Make good fights, win those fights, fight as much as I can and stay busy, that’s the way the light heavyweight division won’t be able to ignore me,” he says. Aside from two losses back in 2017 and 2018 to current unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto Ramirez at super middleweight, Hart’s only other defeat was to Joe Smith during Smith’s most successful portion of his career.
When attempts to make fights with (at the time) up-and-coming prospects like Edgar Berlanga and David Benavidez were denied with Hart being viewed as the typical high risk-low reward opponent, it was time to find another way. So, Hart decided to stay local after splitting with Top Rank Promotions post-surgery to repair his longtime right-hand issues and hooked up with Teflon Promotions, an upstart company that is the latest to take on the noble endeavor of trying to return North Broad Street and Atlantic City to boxing prominence.
In essence, it is a calculated move that is potentially a win-win situation for all parties. Continued success for Hart along with some of the titles at light heavyweight eventually being released from Artur Beterbiev’s grasp due to outside politics, and Jesse Hart just may lift up Teflon Promotions into a major player on the regional scene.
Tickets for Friday’s show are available on Ticketmaster platforms.
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As we entered November, a glance at the boxing schedule made me wonder if it was possible for the sport to have a memorable month — one that could shine a light forward in boxing’s ongoing quest to regain relevance in today’s sports landscape. Having consecutive weekends with events that could spark interest in the pugilistic artform and its wonderful characters was what I was hoping for, but what we got instead was more evidence that boxing isn’t immune to modern business practices landing a one-two punch on the action both inside and outside of the ring.
Jaron “Boots” Ennis was expected to make a statement in his rematch with Karen Chukhadzian on Nov. 9, a statement to put the elite level champions around his weight class on notice. What we witnessed, however, was more evidence of how current champions in their prime can be hampered by having to navigate a business that functions through the cooperation of independent contractors. Ennis got the job done – he won – but it was a lackluster performance.
It’s time for Ennis to fight the fighters we already thought we would have seen him fight by now and I do believe there is some truth to Ennis rising to the occasion if there was a more noteworthy name across the ring.
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Some positives emerged from the Mike Tyson-Jake Paul event the following week. Amanda Serrano, Katie Taylor, and women’s boxing are finally getting the public recognition they deserve. Mario Barrios’s draw against the tough Abel Ramos, also on the Netflix broadcast, was an action-packed firefight. So, mainstream America and beyond got to witness actual fights before being subjected to Paul’s latest circus.
Unfortunately for fans, but fortunately for Paul, the lone true boxing star in the main event dimmed out from an athletic standpoint decades ago. In this instance modern business practices allowed for a social media influencer to stage his largest money grab from a completely unnuanced public.
As Paul rose to the ring apron from the steps and looked around “Jerry’s World,” taking in the moment, it reminded me of an actual fighter when they’re about to enter the ring taking in the atmosphere before they risk their lives after a lifetime of dedication to try and realize a childhood dream. In this case though, this was a natural-born hustler realizing as he made it to the ring apron that his hustle was likely having its moment of glory.
In boxing circles, Jake Paul is viewed as a “necessary evil.” What occurs in his fights are merely an afterthought to the spectacle that is at the core of the social media realm that birthed him. Hopefully the public learned from the atrocity that occurred once the exhibition started that smoke and mirrors last for only so long. Hopefully Paul’s moment of being a boxing performer and acting like a true fighter comes to its conclusion. But he isn’t going away anytime soon, especially since his promotional company is now in bed with Netflix.
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