Featured Articles
WYLIE OBSERVATIONS: Quillin and Malignaggi Boxed Beautifully

Make no mistake about it, Hassan N'Dam was outboxed by Peter Quillin at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn on Saturday night. Just because a fighter is up on his toes, moving side to side and firing his jab, that doesn't mean he's boxing. Peter Quillin was the smarter boxer in there who had a much better understanding of angles. Firstly, Quillin began to time N'Dam as he was coming in from the outside. Most of the time, N'Dam was leading with left hooks from the outside. The problem here was that N'Dam's shots were wide and looping whereas Quillin's were straighter and shorter -more compact. As N'Dam came in with a wide left hook, Quillin, using his feet to turn his left side in and in line with N'Dam's centre line, timed it so he landed his shorter left hand first.
The left hook continued to work throughout the fight. However, what wasn't mentioned by Showtime was that it was actually Quillin's straight right hand that he threw just BEFORE the left hook that enabled it to land every time he let it go. Every time N'Dam threw his left hand -a hook or a jab- his right hand drifted away from his chin. Quillin spotted this and exploited it. Quillin's right hand was thrown to open N'Dam up for the left hook. If you get the chance to watch the fight again, you'll see this over and over -Quillin stepping in with the straight right hand, N'Dam responding by trying to counter it with his left hand, only for Quillin to counter his attempted counter with his left hook. This is real boxing -using angles instead of being ineffective by bouncing around the ring. N'Dam was far too predictable from the outside. Too much style and not enough substance. Look at Quillin's feet compared to N'Dam's throughout the fight, always sliding to his positions, with his feet seldom leaving the canvas which allowed him to always remain in balance and in position to punch. N'Dam on the other hand, was always up on his toes. His balance suffered as a result.
As N'Dam came inside, he was always squared up to Quillin, and as he tried to exit the pocket, he always backed up in a straight line, instead of circling out -Peter Quillin, with his superior timing and punching power, took advantage of technical flaws in N'Dam's game.
I'm afraid Erik Morales is finished as a fighter. He looked very soft around the waist, slow in hand and foot speed and his punches, which were few and far between, lacked any real snap. Morales struggled to get off while foe Danny Garcia, busy behind the jab and in working the body, did what he had to do and got his man out of there.
That left hook from Garcia was a thing of beauty and it was timed to absolute perfection. First, Garcia tapped Morales's glove three times with a soft jab which made Morales think it was safe to launch an attack. Second, as Morales lead with his jab, Garcia, anticipating it, slipped inside the jab and countered with a left hook -a perfect example on how to create a punching angle.
Devon Alexander was simply too fast for Randall Bailey. Devon did a good job of negating Bailey's jab by keeping his right hand out in front of him, where he performed a kind of parry on Bailey's left glove. Bailey's only real chance of winning the fight was to land his right hand, but it was always going to be tough when the shot that sets it up best, the jab, was taken away from him. Alexander, working from behind his own jab, used his southpaw angles to full effect by constantly turning Bailey, who lacked the hand and foot speed to keep up with Alexander.
Speed was the difference maker here.
I'm biased towards skilled technicians and as a result, I've always been a fan of Paulie Malignaggi. Because of his lack of power, though, he's always fallen short of being considered one of the upper echelon in boxing. Sometimes he can struggle to keep fighters off of him. This is because he's not quite as good at making an opponent miss as other feather-fisted craftsmen like Pernell Whitaker or Willie Pep were and because he lacks the pop to make his opponents respect him. Hence, he can be hit and he can be hurt. Both Khan and Ricky Hatton proved this as they were too physical for him despite Malignaggi possessing more pure skill than either of them.
Here's what Malignaggi is masterful at–staying within punching range, circling behind his jab, feinting and controlling his opponents with his left hand work. He's quite brilliant at it. Notice the difference in stance between Malignaggi and Cano. Malignaggi stands very side-on behind his left shoulder carrying his left glove below his waist. His right hand is always by his chin with his right elbow protecting his body. Pablo Cano, on the other hand, was very horizontal with both gloves held high and close to his head. Malignaggi, with his excellent defense, is always going to do well against slower fighters who are looking to land their wider, easier to read and further travelling shots out of this stance. Although his stance suggests otherwise, there aren't many gaps offered from Malignaggi to exploit.
Basically, Malinaggi controlled the fight with the left hand, whether it was by using his jab to the head or to the body, or with his left hook. His constant clockwise pivoting always allows him to create punching angles for his left hand and because it's travelling from his waist, it's tough to track. Also, you'd think because he carries his left hand so low, he'd be relatively easy to hit. This clearly isn't the case because Malignaggi knows every evasive trick in the book -leaning away, rolling, ducking under etc..
Although he got caught with a right hand late on, it was a pretty flawless performance from Malignaggi. He's the type of technician any aspiring fighter should study. He's so relaxed in there and he's one of the better examples of a fighter controlling a man with one hand. Cano did get in some good shots to the body that Paulie wouldn't usually be hit with, so I can the point of anyone saying he looked his age a bit in Brooklyn.
Ultimately though, it comes down to personal preferance. Yes, those body shots had more physical impact than Malinaggi's jab, but did they impact the nature of the fight enough to declare them superior to Malinaggi's jab? I thought Malinaggi's jab was the cleanest -maybe not the hardest- punch that landed throughout and I thought he controlled the action with it, thus giving him the edge in ring generalship. Defense? I felt Malinaggi showed the better ability to avoid getting hit. And effective aggression? Malinaggi was often on the back foot but I thought he was the one initiating most of the action. Again, this was one of those Hagler/Leonard type of affairs when it comes down to one's personal taste. Like I said earlier, I'm biased in favour of technicians so If I see a fighter working behind a jab, using angles and making his opponent miss, stopping an opponent from doing what they set out to do, I'm going to lean towards him in a close fight.
I really enjoy watching Malignaggi, who, along with Anselmo Moreno, Joan Guzman and Floyd Mayweather, is one of the very best pure boxers in the sport.
Featured Articles
Thomas Hauser’s Literary Notes: Johnny Greaves Tells a Sad Tale

Johnny Greaves was a professional loser. He had one hundred professional fights between 2007 and 2013, lost 96 of them, scored one knockout, and was stopped short of the distance twelve times. There was no subtlety in how his role was explained to him: “Look, Johnny; professional boxing works two ways. You’re either a ticket-seller and make money for the promoter, in which case you get to win fights. If you don’t sell tickets but can look after yourself a bit, you become an opponent and you fight to lose.”
By losing, he could make upwards of one thousand pounds for a night‘s work.
Greaves grew up with an alcoholic father who beat his children and wife. Johnny learned how to survive the beatings, which is what his career as a fighter would become. He was a scared, angry, often violent child who was expelled from school and found solace in alcohol and drugs.
The fighters Greaves lost to in the pros ran the gamut from inept local favorites to future champions Liam Walsh, Anthony Crolla, Lee Selby, Gavin Rees, and Jack Catterall. Alcohol and drugs remained constants in his life. He fought after drinking, smoking weed, and snorting cocaine on the night before – and sometimes on the day of – a fight. On multiple occasions, he came close to committing suicide. His goal in boxing ultimately became to have one hundred professional fights.
On rare occasions, two professional losers – “journeymen,” they’re called in The UK – are matched against each other. That was how Greaves got three of the four wins on his ledger. On September 29, 2013, he fought the one hundredth and final fight of his career against Dan Carr in London’s famed York Hall. Carr had a 2-42-2 ring record and would finish his career with three wins in ninety outings. Greaves-Carr was a fight that Johnny could win. He emerged triumphant on a four-round decision.
The Johnny Greaves Story, told by Greaves with the help of Adam Darke (Pitch Publishing) tells the whole sordid tale. Some of Greaves’s thoughts follow:
* “We all knew why we were there, and it wasn’t to win. The home fighters were the guys who had sold all the tickets and were deemed to have some talent. We were the scum. We knew our role. Give some young prospect a bit of a workout, keep out of the way of any big shots, lose on points but take home a wedge of cash, and fight again next week.”
* “If you fought too hard and won, then you wouldn’t get booked for any more shows. If you swung for the trees and got cut or knocked out, then you couldn’t fight for another 28 days. So what were you supposed to do? The answer was to LOOK like you were trying to win but be clever in the process. Slip and move, feint, throw little shots that were rangefinders, hold on, waste time. There was an art to this game, and I was quickly learning what a cynical business it was.”
* “The unknown for the journeyman was always how good your opponent might be. He could be a future world champion. Or he might be some hyped-up nightclub bouncer with a big following who was making lots of money for the promoter.”
* “No matter how well I fought, I wasn’t going to be getting any decisions. These fights weren’t scored fairly. The referees and judges understood who the paymasters were and they played the game. What was the point of having a go and being the best version of you if nobody was going to recognize or reward it?”
* “When I first stepped into the professional arena, I believed I was tough. believed that nobody could stop me. But fight by fight, those ideas were being challenged and broken down. Once you know that you can be hurt, dropped and knocked out, you’re never quite the same fighter.”
* “I had started off with a dream, an idea of what boxing was and what it would do for me. It was going to be a place where I could prove my toughness. A place that I could escape to and be someone else for a while. For a while, boxing was that place. But it wore me down to the point that I stopped caring. I’d grown sick and tired of it all. I wished that I could feel pride at what I’d achieved. But most of the time, I just felt like a loser.”
* “The fights were getting much more difficult, the damage to my body and my psyche taking longer and longer to repair after each defeat. I was putting myself in more and more danger with each passing fight. I was getting hurt more often and stopped more regularly. Even with the 28-day [suspensions], I didn’t have time to heal. I was staggering from one fight to the next and picking up more injuries along the way.”
* “I was losing my toughness and resilience. When that’s all you’ve ever had, it’s a hard thing to accept. Drink and drugs had always been present in my life. But now they became a regular part of my pre-fight preparation. It helped to shut out the fear and quieted the thoughts and worries that I shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”
* “My body was broken. My hands were constantly sore with blisters and cuts. I had early arthritis in my hip and my teeth were a mess. I looked an absolute state and inside I felt worse. But I couldn’t stop fighting yet. Not before the 100.”
* “I had abused myself time after time and stood in front of better men, taking a beating when I could have been sensible and covered up. At the start, I was rarely dropped or stopped. Now it was becoming a regular part of the game. Most of the guys I was facing were a lot better than me. This was mainly about survival.”
* “Was my brain f***ed from taking too many punches? I knew it was, to be honest. I could feel my speech changing and memory going. I was mentally unwell and shouldn’t have been fighting but the promoters didn’t care. Johnny Greaves was still a good booking. Maybe an even better one now that he might get knocked out.”
* “Nobody gave a f*** about me and whether I lived or died. I didn’t care about that much either. But the thought of being humiliated, knocked out in front of all those people; that was worse than the thought of dying. The idea of being exposed for what I was – a nobody.”
* “I was a miserable bastard in real life. A depressive downbeat mouthy little f***er. Everything I’ve done has been to mask the feeling that I’m worthless. That I have no value. The drinks and the drugs just helped me to forget that for a while. I still frighten myself a lot. My thoughts scare me. Do I really want to be here for the next thirty or forty years? I don’t know. If suicide wasn’t so impactful on people around you, I would have taken that leap. I don’t enjoy life and never have.”
So . . . Any questions?
****
Steve Albert was Showtime’s blow-by-blow commentator for two decades. But his reach extended far beyond boxing.
Albert’s sojourn through professional sports began in high school when he was a ball boy for the New York Knicks. Over the years, he was behind the microphone for more than a dozen teams in eleven leagues including four NBA franchises.
Putting the length of that trajectory in perspective . . . As a ballboy, Steve handed bottles of water and towels to a Knicks back-up forward named Phil Jackson. Later, they worked together as commentators for the New Jersey Nets. Then Steve provided the soundtrack for some of Jackson’s triumphs when he won eleven NBA championships as head coach of the Chicago Bulls and Los Angeles Lakers.
It’s also a matter of record that Steve’s oldest brother, Marv, was arguably the greatest play-by-play announcer in NBA history. And brother Al enjoyed a successful career behind the microphone after playing professional hockey.
Now Steve has written a memoir titled A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Broadcast Booth. Those who know him know that Steve doesn’t like to say bad things about people. And he doesn’t here. Nor does he delve into the inner workings of sports media or the sports dream machine. The book is largely a collection of lighthearted personal recollections, although there are times when the gravity of boxing forces reflection.
“Fighters were unlike any other professional athletes I had ever encountered,” Albert writes. “Many were products of incomprehensible backgrounds, fiercely tough neighborhoods, ghettos and, in some cases, jungles. Some got into the sport because they were bullied as children. For others, boxing was a means of survival. In many cases, it was an escape from a way of life that most people couldn’t even fathom.”
At one point, Steve recounts a ringside ritual that he followed when he was behind the microphone for Showtime Boxing: “I would precisely line up my trio of beverages – coffee, water, soda – on the far edge of the table closest to the ring apron. Perhaps the best advice I ever received from Ferdie [broadcast partner Ferdie Pacheco] was early on in my blow-by-blow career – ‘Always cover your coffee at ringside with an index card unless you like your coffee with cream, sugar, and blood.’”
Writing about the prelude to the infamous Holyfield-Tyson “bite fight,” Albert recalls, “I remember thinking that Tyson was going to do something unusual that night. I had this sinking feeling in my gut that he was going to pull something exceedingly out of the ordinary. His grousing about Holyfield’s head butts in the first fight added to my concern. [But] nobody could have foreseen what actually happened. Had I opened that broadcast with, ‘Folks, tonight I predict that Mike Tyson will bite off a chunk of Evander Holyfield’s ear,’ some fellas in white coats might have approached me and said, ‘Uh, Steve, could you come with us.'”
And then there’s my favorite line in the book: “I once asked a fighter if he was happily married,” Albert recounts. “He said, ‘Yes, but my wife’s not.'”
“All I ever wanted was to be a sportscaster,” Albert says in closing. “I didn’t always get it right, but I tried to do my job with honesty and integrity. For forty-five years, calling games was my life. I think it all worked out.”
Thomas Hauser’s email address is thomashauserwriter@gmail.com. His next book – The Most Honest Sport: Two More Years Inside Boxing – will be published this month and is available for preorder at:
https://www.amazon.com/Most-Honest-Sport-Inside-Boxing/dp/1955836329
In 2019, Hauser was selected for boxing’s highest honor – induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.
To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE
Featured Articles
Argentina’s Fernando Martinez Wins His Rematch with Kazuto Ioka

In an excellent fight climaxed by a furious 12th round, Argentina’s Fernando Daniel Martinez came off the deck to win his rematch with Kazuto Ioka and retain his piece of the world 115-pound title. The match was staged at Ioka’s familiar stomping grounds, the Ota-City General Gymnasium in Tokyo.
In their first meeting on July 7 of last year in Tokyo, Martinez was returned the winner on scores of 117-111, 116-112, and a bizarre 120-108. The rematch was slated for late December, but Martinez took ill a few hours before the weigh-in and the bout was postponed.
The 33-year-old Martinez, who came in sporting a 17-0 (9) record, was a 7-2 favorite to win the sequel, but there were plenty of reasons to favor Ioka, 36, aside from his home field advantage. The first Japanese male fighter to win world titles in four weight classes, Ioka was 3-0 in rematches and his long-time trainer Ismael Salas was on a nice roll. Salas was 2-0 last weekend in Times Square, having handled upset-maker Rolly Romero and Reito Tsutsumi who was making his pro debut.
But the fourth time was not a charm for Ioka (31-4-1) who seemingly pulled the fight out of the fire in round 10 when he pitched the Argentine to the canvas with a pair of left hooks, but then wasn’t able to capitalize on the momentum swing.
Martinez set a fast pace and had Ioka fighting off his back foot for much of the fight. Beginning in round seven, Martinez looked fatigued, but the Argentine was conserving his energy for the championship rounds. In the end, he won the bout on all three cards: 114-113, 116-112, 117-110.
Up next for Fernando Martinez may be a date with fellow unbeaten Jesse “Bam” Rodriguez, the lineal champion at 115. San Antonio’s Rodriguez is a huge favorite to keep his title when he defends against South Africa’s obscure Phumelela Cafu on July 19 in Frisco, Texas.
As for Ioka, had he won today’s rematch, that may have gotten him over the hump in so far as making it into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. True, winning titles in four weight classes is no great shakes when the bookends are only 10 pounds apart, but Ioka is still a worthy candidate.
To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE
Featured Articles
Emanuel Navarrete Survives a Bloody Battle with Charly Suarez in San Diego

In a torrid battle Mexico’s Emanuel “Vaquero” Navarrete and his staccato attack staved off the herky-jerky non-stop assaults of Philippine’s Charly Suarez to win by technical decision and retain the WBO super feather world title on Saturday.
What do they feed these guys?
Navarrete (40-2-1, 32 KOs) and his elongated arms managed to connect enough to compensate against the surprising Suarez (18-1, 10 KOs) who wowed the crowd at Pechanga Arena in San Diego.
An accidental clash of heads opened a cut on the side of Navarrete’s left eye and forced a stoppage midway through the fight.
From the opening round Navarrete used his windmill style of attack with punches from different angles that caught Suarez multiple times early. It did not matter. Suarez fired back with impunity and was just as hungry to punch it out with the Mexican fighter.
It was savage.
Every time Navarrete connected solidly, he seemed to pause and check out the damage. Bad idea. Suarez would immediately counter with bombs of his own and surprise the champion with his resilience and tenacity.
Wherever they found Suarez they should look for more, because the Filipino fighter from Manila was ferocious and never out of his depth.
Around the sixth round the Mexican fighter seemed a little drained and puzzled at the tireless attacks coming from Suarez. During an exchange of blows a cut opened up on Navarrete and it was ruled an accidental clash of heads by the referee. Blood streamed down the side of Navarrete’s face and it was cleared by the ringside physician.
But at the opening of the eighth round, the fight was stopped and the ringside physician ruled the cut was too bad to continue. The California State Athletic Commission looked at tape of the round when the cut opened to decipher if it was an accidental butt or a punch that caused the cut. It was unclear so the referee’s call of accidental clash of heads stood as the final ruling.
Score cards from the judges saw Navarrete the winner by scores of 78-75, 77-76 twice. He retains the WBO title.
Interim IBF Lightweight Title
The sharp-shooting Raymond “Danger” Muratalla (23-0, 17 KOs) maneuvered past Russia’s Zaur Abdullaev (20-2, 12 KOs) by unanimous decision to win the interim IBF lightweight title after 12 rounds.
Both fighters were strategic in their approach with Muratalla switching from orthodox to southpaw at various times of the fight. Neither fighter was ever able to dominant any round.
Defense proved the difference between the two lightweights. Muratalla was able to slip more blows than Abdullaev and that proved the difference. The fighter from Fontana, California was able to pierce Abdullaev’s guard more often than not, especially with counter punches.
Abdullaev was never out of the fight. The Russian fighter was able to change tactics and counter the counters midway through the fight. It proved effective especially to the body. But it was not enough to offset Muratalla’s accuracy.
There were no knockdowns and after 12 rounds the judges scored it 118-110, 119-109 twice for Muratalla who now becomes the mandatory for the IBF lightweight title should Vasyl Lomachenko return to defend it.
Muratalla was brief.
“He was a tough fighter,” said Muratalla. “My defense is something I work on a lot.”
Perla Wins
Super flyweight Perla Bazaldua (2-0) eased past Mona Ward (0-2) with a polished display of fighting at length and inside.
Combination punching and defense allowed Bazaldua to punch in-between Ward’s attacks and force the St. Louis fighter to clinch repeatedly. But Ward hung in there despite taking a lot of blows. After four rounds the Los Angeles-based Bazaldua was scored the winner 40-36 on all three cards. Bazaldua signed a long term contract with Top Rank in March.
Photo credit: Mikey Williams / Top Rank
To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
Mekhrubon Sanginov, whose Heroism Nearly Proved Fatal, Returns on Saturday
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Avila Perspective, Chap. 322: Super Welterweight Week in SoCal
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
TSS Salutes Thomas Hauser and his Bernie Award Cohorts
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Gabriela Fundora KOs Marilyn Badillo and Perez Upsets Conwell in Oceanside
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
‘Krusher’ Kovalev Exits on a Winning Note: TKOs Artur Mann in his ‘Farewell Fight’
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Floyd Mayweather has Another Phenom and his name is Curmel Moton
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Arne’s Almanac: The First Boxing Writers Assoc. of America Dinner Was Quite the Shindig
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Avila Perspective, Chap. 323: Benn vs Eubank Family Feud and More