HOW HE DID IT: More Mastery From All-Time Great Bernard Hopkins

Published

12 years ago

March 11, 2013

Lee Wylie

Bernard Hopkins proved yet again that age is just a number by becoming the oldest world champion in history for a second time after beating Tavoris Cloud in Brooklyn on Saturday night.

Although he fell a little short of matching the same level of virtuosity shown in the Felix Trinidad, Antonio Tarver and Kelly Pavlik fights (he’s getting on a bit now after all), this was still a staggering display by Hopkins. Indeed, in spite of his opponent’s technical shortcomings, many of which were exposed throughout the fight, some thought Cloud –once considered a viable opponent for pound for pound contender Andre Ward—would be throwing too many punches and applying too much pressure for the old-timer to deal with.

Hopkins’ win over Cloud shouldn’t really have come as too much of a shock for anyone, for this is not the first time Bernard Hopkins has proved the naysayers wrong. With a perspicacity that may be unrivalled in the modern era, Hopkins has built a legacy based on the mastering of fancied younger fighters with perfect or near perfect records.

Here, I’d like to highlight what Hopkins did that allowed him to subdue and control an opponent 17 years his junior.

Footwork

It’s been said here before that the fighter who can dictate his opponent’s footwork using his own footwork will usually control the fight. It was clear from the opening bell that this was Bernard Hopkins’ strategy. Because Cloud tends to load up on his punches, he’s either uncomfortable in doing so or is unable to let his hands go unless his feet are well underneath him and planted. Conversely, because Hopkins never looks to load up with anything big, he can let his hands go freely without having to set himself first. By employing lateral movement and never allowing his opponent to set himself, Hopkins was able to minimize Cloud’s offensive capabilities while maximizing his own in the process.

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Notice how Hopkins’ lateral movement forces Cloud to reposition himself or risk conceding an angle.

Bernard Hopkins is notorious for his relatively low punch output. However, if he’s faced with an opponent who struggles to cut the ring off and comes forward in a straight line, his movement causes them to constantly think about his location instead of punching.

Needless to say, movement alone doesn’t win fights. Therefore, with Cloud’s punch output reduced, Hopkins had to take advantage by producing enough offense of his own to please the judges.

Feints

In response to following him around the ring, Hopkins would provoke a reaction out of Cloud with a shoulder feint, before redirecting his movement back the other way. Almost contradictory, a feint on an aggressive fighter tends to have the opposite effect as it does on a defensive based or counterpunching fighter. Where a feint will usually draw a counter from a defensive fighter or counterpuncher making them more aggressive, a feint will usually slow down the pace of an aggressive fighter, making them more hesitant. By the mid-way point in the fight, Cloud had become over sensitive to Hopkins’ shoulder twitches and feints. As a result, any time Hopkins stopped moving long enough for Cloud to get close to him, Hopkins would feint him out of a defensive position, before nailing him with a lead left hook to the head or the body, a counter right cross, or a slight variation on his usual jab.

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Notice how Hopkins sudden level change/feint pulls Cloud’s lead arm away from his guard, leaving an opening for a right cross.

Something I noticed while watching the fight was how Hopkins didn’t really bother throwing his signature right hand lead much. There were a few occasions nearing the end of the fight when he caught Cloud coming in with it, but apart from that, it certainly didn’t feature as prominently as it has in the past. This, I believe, was due to the fact that Hopkins rarely looked to clinch or tie up his man. Hopkins often uses his sneaky right hand lead as a way of getting himself inside where he can tie his opponent up. Because Hopkins’ main strategy was to keep Cloud from getting set, using footwork to turn his man and keep the fight primarily on the outside, Hopkins wasn’t too concerned with getting tying Cloud up via his right hand lead.

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Here’s Hopkins getting inside on Joe Calzaghe using his right hand lead. This has been one of Hopkins’ primary tactics for gaining entry over the years.

The Jab

In the right hand lead’s place, Hopkins introduced a slight variation of his usual jab. The jab is boxing’s most versatile punch. Here, rather than use it to set up other punches or as a probe to gain intelligence, Hopkins used a lunging jab to disrupt Cloud’s forward momentum and to prevent him from getting to the inside.

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Here is Hopkins executing a lunging jab at various stages during the fight. Notice how Hopkins’ head is taken away from the centerline. The majority of fighters will aim their counters toward an opponent’s head. By slipping to the right as he’s stepping forward with his jab, Hopkins is taking a pre-emptive measure against a potential jab or counter from Cloud.

Counterpunching

Whenever the action took place at close quarters (Cloud’s best chance of winning the fight) Hopkins managed to get the better by way of his superior counterpunching ability. One of the things that I noticed during the fight was how much Cloud telegraphs his punches, particularly his wide swings in close. On the few occasions when Cloud found himself in a more advantageous position, Hopkins managed to neutralize much of what Cloud was throwing by threading shorter, crisper blows inside of Cloud’s wide swings.

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Here’s Cloud trying to work inside with wide hooks. Hopkins, the superior craftsman in close, thwarts them easily by rolling and countering with shorter hooks and uppercuts.

Part of what makes Hopkins a truly special fighter is his ability to draw leads from his opponents by offering them false targets, creating specific openings for specific punches. Although Hopkins’ reflexes and reaction time are excellent for a 48 year-old fighter, they are greatly enhanced by the fact that he knows what punches his opponents are likely to throw in certain situations.

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Here is Hopkins in the aptly named Philly shell/half guard defense. As is often the case with when an orthodox fighter is confronted with this defense, Cloud attempts to land a right hand toward the seemingly unguarded area of Hopkins (left side). Although its main purpose is for defending, the half guard defense is great for drawing right leads. Here, Hopkins knows what punch is likely to be thrown and as a result, rolls with the blow and lands a right hand counter. What seems like split second reflex timing is really down to probability.

Here’s another example.

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Notice how low Hopkins is carrying his gloves in the first still. This is no coincidence. Hopkins’ low gloves (particularly his rear) are designed to draw a left lead from an opponent. Sure enough, Cloud obliges and Hopkins slips to the outside of the jab and counters with a right cross.

Although the official decision was that the cut above Cloud’s eye was caused by an accidental clash of heads, in reality, it stemmed from a short left hook and from Hopkins’s ability to draw a lead and counter.

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Here, as Cloud leads with a jab, Hopkins slips to the outside of the blow and comes back with a short left hand after missing with his initial right hand counter.

Defense

Although he’s starting to get hit more often these days, Hopkins’ defense is still world class. It’s one of the reasons why he’s never been seriously hurt or rocked in the ring. Apart from solid fundamentals (correct balance, tucked chin, body angled slightly to the side etc.) Hopkins elusiveness in the ring can be attributed almost entirely on the pre-emptive measures he takes. Prior to a fight, it’s well documented that Hopkins leaves no stone unturned in scouting his opponents –how many times during the past have we seen a Bernard Hopkins opponent have their primary weapon taken away from them?

Although many (Andre Ward during the HBO telecast included) believed that Cloud’s best weapon was his right hand, I think his left hook looks like his most dangerous punch. After watching the fight, I think Bernard Hopkins felt the same way.

Although Hopkins was circling both left and right, he seemed to be moving more to his right (to Cloud’s left) during the fight. Although this may suggest that Hopkins was indeed trying to avoid Cloud’s right hand, moving toward a blow with the intention of crowding it (not allowing it to reach its maximum velocity or power) can also be a way of stuffing that particular blow. By circling toward Cloud’s left hand, Hopkins was able to square Cloud up. If Cloud were to throw his left hook after being made to turn to his left, Hopkins would see it coming due to the wide, highly telegraphed angle the blow would now be coming from.

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Here’s Hopkins moving to his right (Cloud’s left) with his non-working hand glued to the side of his head. As Cloud throws his left hook, Hopkins stuffs the blow, taking it on his right arm.

Here we see it again.

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As Hopkins is tending to his right, Cloud has to square himself up to throw his left hook (2nd still). This time, Hopkins is able to circle out and away from the blow. Notice how Hopkins has his non-working hand glued to the side of his head ready to block the left hook in the second still. This type of pre-emptive measure is one of the reasons why Hopkins has rarely been hit clean during his career.

All in all it was a masterful display from Hopkins. Although Cloud kept it competitive throughout, there can be no argument as to who the better fighter was (I scored it 117-111 for Hopkins). Using clever footwork, subtle shifts, broken rhythm (changing the tempo of his punches and movements) along with feints and short combination punching in close (a rarity in a Bernard Hopkins fight these days), Hopkins neutralized Cloud’s predictable linear attacks in what was possibly his cleanest, most aesthetically pleasing performance since the Kelly Pavlik fight. I found it ironic that Hopkins’ trainer, Nazim Richardson, referenced Joe Louis’ short punching during one of the rounds. As I was watching the fight, I thought Hopkins’ movement was eerily similar to that of Jersey Joe Walcott’s when he out boxed Joe Louis in their first fight but failed to get the decision.

We are literally running out of superlatives to describe Bernard Hopkins. For me, he’s not only the best fighter of his era, he is among the greatest fighters ever, period. This once in a lifetime phenomenon won’t be around too much longer, so let’s just savor the moment and enjoy him while he’s still around.

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Lee Wylie

Thomas Hauser’s Literary Notes: Johnny Greaves Tells a Sad Tale

Published

2 days ago

May 11, 2025

Thomas Hauser

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.

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Argentina’s Fernando Martinez Wins His Rematch with Kazuto Ioka

Published

2 days ago

May 11, 2025

Arne K. Lang

Argentina's-Fernando-Martinez-Wins-His-Rematch-with-Kazuto-Ioka

In an excellent fight climaxed by a furious 12^th 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.

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Emanuel Navarrete Survives a Bloody Battle with Charly Suarez in San Diego

Published

3 days ago

May 11, 2025

David A. Avila

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

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