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At Savarese Fights in Houston, They Come To See Fights, Not Fighters
The Bayou City Events Center, located just on the outskirts of Houston, is a relatively small venue. Essentially, the frequent host to former heavyweight contender Lou Savarese’s promotional ventures in pugilism is three large ballrooms.
Savarese sets up shop in the middle ballroom. The blue ring is tattered and worn, but the ropes are tight and the floor is flat. Around the ring, Savarese sets up reserved tables for sponsors and high-priced ticket buyers. They are dressed in something only a bit less than their Sunday bests, insomuch as some of the men wear t-shirts tucked into their jeans and the ladies on their arms are adorned for something more licentious than prayer.
Behind them, others sit. There are chairs without tables lined all around and the dress code gets less strict and scantier with each meter of distance. Each seat is pointed directly toward the object of attention: that tired blue ring that holds the fighters dancing upon it perfectly high enough for everyone to see.
And the people pack in to see it. Many of them have to stand along the walls.
This is local boxing at its best. Savarese has perfected it. Unlike bigger shows, fans here do not come to see stars. Sure, these men can build local fan bases and dream of something more than entrance music, but for the most part those in attendance are here to see fights, not fighters.
The boxers congregate together in the ballroom to the left. Red corner, blue corner, it doesn’t matter. There are no dressing rooms here, just a large, open space to get taped up, loosened and warmed before entering the fray.
Welterweights Felipe Reyes and Jonathan O’Neal open the action. The rangy O’Neal wants to make it a jabbing contest, but his compact Mexican friend, Reyes, will have none of it. Reyes is a pressure fighter. He likes to brawl, and he has a good enough chin to do it. Like any fighter wearing trunks emblazoned with the Mexican flag, Reyes digs hooks to the body like a demon. But O’Neal is tough, and when it’s proven it won’t be a jabbing contest, the tough welterweight, who slightly resembles Paul Williams, obliges his opponent by letting his hands go, too. Reyes comes forward in the first and takes punches to the head and body just as he intends, all the while digging to O’Neal’s torso.
In the second, O’Neal’s corner is screaming at him. “Box him! Get off the ropes! Box him! Box him, O’Neal! Box him!”
It is easier said than done, and the rest of the fight proves it. O’Neal is hurt in the third. He’s right where he’s not supposed to be, the corner, and Reyes is making him pay. But O’Neal is a tough customer, and he’s game enough to make Reyes work for it. O’Neal seems to figure things out a bit at the start of the fourth. He’s moving his feet better and catching Reyes on the way in, but the marauder keeps on coming forward anyway. By the middle of the round, O’Neal is too tired to keep it up. The final round’s bell is merciful to him.
Judges at ringside score the fight as they so often do, for the fighter moving forward. Reyes gets the nod 40-36, 40-36 and 39-37.
Next up are light heavyweights Jeremy Hall and Joseph Walker. Hall, in blue and white trunks, carries a high guard and works behind a jab. Walker, in black trucks with a white stripe down each leg, carries his hands low, moves laterally and tries to get his thicker body behind hooks and uppercuts. It’s no good. Hall hits him early and often in the first, and has him hurt twice before the bell sounds.
Walker has a good corner. They tell him to use a jab and he does so with success in the second. He’s a different fighter for the opening minute, but a hard right hand from Hall reminds him he’s not the boss tonight. Soon, he’s getting pummeled again, despite giving Walker different sorts of targets by changing back and forth from orthodox to southpaw.
“Move, Joe!” his corner yells at him in the third. He’s not, though, and after getting shellacked on the ropes some more, he seems even more discouraged than ever. Before long, he’s corralled into a corner. Next, he’s in another. Then another. He makes it out of the set, perhaps bolstered by the counter right hand he landed on Hall’s chin toward the end of it.
Surprise! Hall switches stances at the start of the fourth, too. Soon, he’s back orthodox though, and he’s clubbing Walker with hooks and overhand rights just like always.
“Get off the ropes, Joe!” says his corner. “Defend yourself,” whispers the referee who wants to stop it.
Walker does both just enough to make it to the end of the round. Judges at ringside award the bout to Hall, 40-36 all three ways.
Next, it’s cruiserweight Hasam Mohamed taking on light heavyweight Robert Hill at a catch weight of 185 pounds. Both men are muscular and in shape, but it is clear from the outset how much larger the cut up Mohamed is.
Mohamed’s a jabber, but throws it, and everything else coming behind it, like you just called his mother something terrible. His eyes pop out of his head and he wears a scowl with every mean blow, but he doesn’t land any of them with the authority he throws them with. The professional novice is reckless.
Still, Hill learns enough at the start of it to know he doesn’t want to trade too much leather with Mohamed. He covers up, then ducks down to grab mean Mohamed in between careful jabs and right crosses. The second is more of the same: wild and angry swings, tugging and grabbing, frowns and snarls. Mohamed lets it get to him a bit, and starts leading with his head enough to have a point deducted. Later on, he’s reaching back far as he can like he’s throwing a baseball and hurling his fist at his easily prepared by now opponent with everything he’s got.
Something like a boxing match breaks out early in the third. Both are jabbing at each other for a bit, but it devolves into more ugly chaos soon enough. The grey haired referee scolds them like schoolboys but it doesn’t matter. Things don’t change. Hill lands some clean counters here and there to maybe take the round.
The final round is the same. The burr-headed Mohamed looks and fights like a football player. He lands more shoulders than fists. On the other hand, Hill fights with more precision but carries himself as if he wouldn’t make the team altogether.
The end result is a split decision win for Robert Hill. Judges score it twice for him, 39-36, 38-37, and once for Mohamed, 38-37.
The sweet science returns to form by way of junior middleweights Jonathan Casimere and Booker Arthur. They’re quick, skilled and respectful of boxing’s dogmas. Casimere is polite. He greets his opponent, Arthur, before they start the fight with a fist bump. After the bell rings, though, the shorter Arthur is greeted with long, straight right hands over the top of his guard.
The second round is more of the same, though now Casimere is mixing in hooks. Arthur takes a good punch. He wears black trunks and high gray socks, each adorned with Batman’s black and yellow bat symbol. The pace quickens in the third, mostly because Casimere seems more intent to end things. He tires himself out, though, so Arthur gets a bat-flurry in while he rests. Emboldened, Arthur rushes in as fast as he can. Casimere sidesteps him and let’s Arthur run face first into the ropes. On the rebound, he cracks Arthur up top to the head. It’s nice work, though slightly behind the head. The two fight in a phone booth for the rest of it, and trade flurries until they hear the crack of the bell.
The final round is a crackerjack. The two men fight passionately toe-to-toe for three full minutes. Both want to win, and it shows. It isn’t Figueroa-Arakawa but it works.
Judges give the fight to Casimere by majority decision. The scores read 39-37, 39-37 and 38-38.
Featherweights Pablo Cruz and Heron Saucedo Jr. come out next. Saucedo is proud of his entrance music, until he realizes Cruz, the 2011 national champion of El Salvador, is coming in to the sounds of an entire live drum section. Cruz wears blue shorts and dances to the rhythmic sounds of his minions. His people are louder than anyone else here, and they set themselves apart by wearing blue shirts with their fighter’s name on them.
Cruz has quality. He’s fast handed and skilled. Saucedo is no chump, but he’s getting beaten in just about all facets of the game right from the get go. Team Cruz loves it. Chants begin. “Pablo! Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!”
Cruz catches Saucedo clean with a counter right hand in the second, and soon he’s strafed him enough to bring blood spurting from his nose. The ringside doctor says he’s good to go, so Cruz continues his patient onslaught. The third starts as the second ended, more patient stalking by Cruz, more cautious circling and brave strike attempts by Saucedo. Here comes the blood again. The crowd chants when they see it. Cruz is breaking him down now.
The fourth round is just a river of blood streaming from Saucedo’s nose. His arm is covered in it, and Cruz does all he can to make it stay that way. It splatters on top of the writer at ringside from The Sweet Science who keeps typing anyway.
All three judges score the fight for the fighter who made it rain blood, Pablo Cruz. He leaves to what isn’t just a drum section, but a full band of happy worshippers dancing and cheering for him with a giant El Salvaroean flag.
Lightweight Omar Tello does his best to outdo Cruz. Tello, of Houston, has a boisterous crowd of onlookers cheering and chanting for him, too. “Tello! Tello! Tello!” they yell. Opponent Jose Rangel tries a good ol’ fashioned blitzkrieg approach at the start to shut them up, but is quickly countered and sent reeling. A right hand stuns him. Soon, he’s getting blitzkrieged himself right back to the adjacent corner. Tello puts him down to his knee with a quick combination and that is where he stays until he is counted out at 56 seconds of the first round.
The crowd never stops cheering.
It’s time for the heavyweights. Roberto Silva Jr., the hometown kid, drapes himself with a cape over his robe that is also the Mexican flag. This goes over well with people in attendance. His pudgy counterpart, Emmanuel Calzada, is the kind of fighter you expect when you see he’s wearing tennis shoes instead of those designed for the ring. He looks hurried and resorts to hastily thrown haymakers whenever he decides to let his hands go.
The ring quakes from the men’s girth, though they appear normal by heavyweight standards.
A hard right hand sends Calzada down fast in the first, but the referee rules it a rabbit punch. No matter, Silva is pummeling him pillar to post again soon enough. Calzada makes it through the first, even landing a straight right hand in the round to prove he knows how to do it. The two men tire in the second, especially Calzada who is eating hard jabs and power shots. The crowd goes wild for the kid, though, when he finally lands some of those haymakers. In the third, Silva crushes Calzada to the body, then follows it up twice up stairs to break the kid’s nose. The bout is halted at 56 seconds of round 3 with Calzada on his feet but bewildered by the impact.
Super middleweight Gianni Giambi and Cody Perez are the last four-rounder tonight. The bald-headed Giambi has a tattoo under his heart in the shape of Texas, and he fights like a bull. He aggressively charges his prey, Perez, who appears the sheep tonight. He’s got a white across stitched onto his black shorts along with “Psalm 144:1” underneath.
Giambi pounds Perez to the ropes and heads in fast for the kill. It’s too fast.
Perez, whose bible verse indicates he possesses hands trained by God for battle, lands a perfect right hand counter across Giambi’s chin. His head snaps around like a pinwheel and he crashes down hard to the canvas. He’s out. It’s a brutal, devastating blow that leaves Giambi flat on his back, under the ropes and halfway into a judge’s lap. It’s scary for a bit, but he makes it back from dreamland and gets to his feet. He looks more embarrassed than injured.
The final bout of the night is junior welterweight Daniel Garcia against Juan Serrano. Garcia is the headliner tonight. His pompadour head is clean, and his body is fit and lean. He’s a good fighter, the kind you can tell has spent long hours at the gym honing his craft. This opponent, Serrano, is a mystery, but he carries himself as if he’s the same as Garcia. He’s got thick arms but skinny legs. Both have the look of fighters. You know it when you see it. It’s there.
The first round opens with jabs. Garcia is light and nimble. His arms are shorter than his opponents, but he glides across our blue floor like a cloud of smoke. He’s just close enough to punch, it seems, whenever he wants to be. He doubles and triples the jab when he’s there, and blocks the returns as he leaves. Jab established, Garcia starts bringing in his right hand, too. Sometimes it is straight like a knife. Other times, it loops back behind his opponent’s ear like a slinky. He’s winning.
In between the first and second rounds, Garcia stands in the corner. His trunks say “six pounds, ten ounces” on the left leg. The front says “Garcia,” the back, “Perez.” Meanwhile, Serrano sits and listens intently to his corner. No doubt, they’re telling him to keep the shorter Garcia at the end of his longer punches. His blue, black and white shorts look like swim trunks.
Serrano does his best to do as his corner told him in the second. Garcia’s head is snapped back to the sky by a jab he just missed blocking. Serrano does more of it, and follows it up with hooks and uppercuts. Garcia changes now. He’s moving laterally and trying to leap inside to do damage instead of boxing like before. Serrano sees it, and pops Garcia with a right hand that stuns him. Garcia has to hold on to gather his wits.
Garcia can’t seem to block the jab anymore in the third. It’s hitting him, so he decides to move in closer and throw combinations. A left hook catches Serrano off balance and stumbles him ever so slightly. Garcia is pleased. He sends a sharp jab to Serrano’s body, then ducks and dodges the return. Garcia is back in control. The round ends with a looping right hand to Serrano’s head. He’s not hurt, but Garcia’s punches are landing more and more now.
The two stand up to each other in the fourth. It’s time to find out what is what. Garcia lands his shots, but finds out Serrano’s are harder. He’s dazed a bit and tries to use his legs to no avail. Seconds before the bell rings, Garcia is dumped to the canvas by a clean left hook. He makes it to his feet quickly, receives the obligatory count to 8 and heads back to his corner to recalibrate.
Serrano’s long punches are landing harder in the fifth. He’s keeping Garcia on the end of them like his corner wants, and he’s getting lots of torque for them out of his twisting hips. Garcia lands a hook inside on the ropes, but Serrano shakes it off. Serrano is the stalker now. Garcia can’t keep him off. Serrano blisters Garcia with an uppercut, but it is taken well. Garcia recovers with quick combos in close, but they are mostly arm punches now. The thunder in the round is landed by Serrano.
The final round is here. It’s almost time to go home now. Tomorrow is Friday, so most everyone here will peel themselves out of bed in the morning and head to work. It’s time to finish the drinks and start getting ready to head home for the night. The sold out crowd is restless.
Serrano is patient in the sixth, but he can tell Garcia is tiring so he can’t help but trap him up against the ropes. Garcia has to hold on again after a right hook, but once he gathers himself he’s right back at it. Garcia fights to the bitter end, as does Serrano. It’s a good, clean fight, the kind fight fans come out to the Bayou City Events Center in Houston to see. The gregarious Savarese, who’s tasted the power of George Foreman, Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield, has done it again.
Judges score the fight for mystery man, Serrano, by split decision. The scores are 58-55 and 57-56 for Serrano, and 57-56 Garcia. A night at the fights in Houston is over.
Follow @KelseyMcCarson on Twitter.
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Avila Perspective, Chap. 311: Jim Lampley Adds Class to the Benavidez-Morrell Rumble
Avila Perspective, Chap. 311: Jim Lampley Adds Class to the Benavidez-Morrell Rumble
Boxing is the oldest sport.
For at least the last 100 years or so, a person with a microphone sitting ringside as an observer has spewed details in machine gun fashion to a radio or television audience of hand-to-hand combat taking place in a boxing ring.
There have been many excellent orators of the sweet science, too many to name, but one who stands out is Jim Lampley. He is the Cicero of boxing journalism.
Through showers of blood, saliva and sometimes body parts, Lampley gave oratory of boxing matches taking place from the days of Sugar Ray Leonard to the emergence of women’s boxing.
Lampley and his merry men of boxing journalism return to Las Vegas for the light heavyweight clash between David Benavidez (29-0, 24 KOs) and David Morrell (11-0, 9 KOs) on Saturday Feb. 1, at T-Mobile Arena. PPV.Com will stream the fight card among other media outlets.
“People want to see the stars. They want to see the biggest stars,” says Lampley (pictured on the right with Morrell) about today’s boxing platforms. “We’ve gone from mass distribution to point to point distribution…it’s a product of the current digital world and how that operates.”
No other journalist rivals Lampley when it comes to prizefighting. No other can match the style and grace he describes a sport that brings unexpected intensity and sometimes shocking results.
Think Juan Manuel Marquez knocking out the great Manny Pacquiao in their fourth and final meeting in 2012.
Boxing’s Voice
Lampley has few rivals in broadcast journalism unless you compare other sports like baseball where the late Dodger announcer Vin Scully carved his legend. Or perhaps Chick Hearn the originator of pop culture basketball terminology like “it’s in the refrigerator.”
Boxing has Lampley and since his childhood, the sport has captivated his interest. He recalls after his father passed away his mother sat him in front of a small television set at age six to watch Sugar Ray Robinson fight Carl “Bobo” Olson in their second fight. Boxing was his babysitter.
“I’ve had boxing in my heart and in my head ever since,” Lampley said.
During his youth, after his widowed mother moved their family to Miami, Florida, the young Lampley saved car washing and lawn-mowing money to buy a ticket to watch Cassius Clay versus Sonny Liston.
“My mother took me and dropped me off with my individual ticket to go in and watch the fight. That was the night I saw my very first prize fight,” described Lampley about one of the most important boxing events that took place in 1964. “So, boxing has always been big in my background and in my sports fan experience.”
Eventually Lampley worked with ABC Sports covering college football, Wide World of Sports, and Olympic coverage. The only sport he did not cover in 13 years was boxing because Howard Cosell had a vice grip hold on boxing coverage for ABC. But when new leadership arrived it was decided to insert Lampley to cover boxing as a means of punishment.
“He immediately sized up that I was culturally allergic to boxing,” said Lampley of the new ABC leadership. “He assumed that I would be such a bad fit in boxing that it would bring an end to my broadcasting career and kick me out of his division.”
Ironically the event Lampley was forced to cover was Mike Tyson against Jesse Ferguson in Troy, New York on February 1986.
“This was an astonishing opportunity,” Lampley said. “Maybe this was meant to be,”
After a year or two more with ABC, Lampley moved to CBS and HBO to be part of their boxing programming and blazed a course for that program and himself as the preeminent voice of boxing broadcasting.
From Duran to Mayweather
Among those epic fights HBO covered featured Roberto Duran, Boom Boom Mancini, Marvin Halger, Roy Jones Jr., Oscar De La Hoya, Lennox Lewis, James Toney, Bernard Hopkins and Floyd Mayweather to name some.
When it was announced that new ownership for HBO decided to cancel its boxing programming, the boxing world was aghast.
“It was painful, sad, I was bereft,” said Lampley of the last HBO boxing card at the StubHub Center in Carson, Calif. “We had no idea why the brand new owners at HBO, a bunch of cell phone salesmen from Dallas, did not see boxing as an important part of the franchise.”
That night on Dec. 8, 2018, women’s boxing was featured for the first and only time on HBO. Lampley was aided by Max Kellerman and Roy Jones Jr. It was a cold night as usual at the outdoor arena known for its gladiator-like results such as the two bloody clashes between Israel Vazquez and Rafael Marquez. (Photo insert: Lampley’s last HBO hurrah; photo by Al Applerose)
Among the women who fought that evening were Cecilia Braekhus and Claressa Shields. Ironically, seven months earlier, Braekhus fought Kali Reis at the same venue. Reis would go on to earn an Emmy nomination for an HBO series for her portrayal in the True Detective series.
Six years ago was HBO and Lampley’s final bow together.
“Still to this day I have no idea why they thought that was better for the long term,” Lampley said of HBO’s boxing abortion.
PPV.COM
Though HBO Championship Boxing no longer exists, Lampley’s undisputed talent for describing the art of boxing has brought him back. Now he represents PPV.COM an outfit wise enough to recognize the appeal of boxing’s greatest broadcast journalist from 1988 to December 2018. They reeled him back and with a new format that includes texting with fans during the actual fights.
“I help introduce the audience to the new communication phenomenon which I’m involved,” said Lampley who is partnered with journalist Dan Canobbio and Chris Algieri for this event. “It puts me back in touch with all my old friends in the media room where I spend the whole week leading up to the fight.”
Lampley recalls his first broadcast with PPV.COM 15 months ago already saw debates regarding undefeated David Benavidez possibly accepting a challenge from David Morrell.
“As style fights go, its potentially a great one,” said Lampley. “Its two punchers with legitimate punching power in an extremely fan friendly fight. The winner is regarded as logical upcoming opponent for Canelo Alvarez the number one money attraction in the world.”
On Saturday night when Benavidez and Morrell lead a talented fight card, be sure to select PPV.COM as your choice to listen to Lampley’s undeniable talent for describing boxing action.
Take advantage boxing fans.
One last note, Lampley’s book “It Happened” will be coming soon on April 15.
Fights to Watch
Sat. PPV.COM 3 p.m. David Benavidez (29-0) vs David Morrell (11-0); Brandon Figueroa (25-1-1) vs Stephen Fulton (22-1); Isaac Cruz (26-3-1) vs Angel Fierro (23-2-2).
Sun. DAZN 4:30 p.m. Claressa Shields (15-0) vs Danielle Perkins (5-0).
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Hall of Fame Boxing Writer Michael Katz (1939-2025) Could Wield His Pen like a Stiletto
One of the last of the breed – a full-time boxing writer for the print edition of a major metropolitan daily – left us this week. Hall of Fame boxing writer Michael Katz was 85 when he drew his last breath at an assisted living facility in Brooklyn on Monday, Jan. 27.
Born in the Bronx, Katz earned his spurs writing for the school newspaper “The Campus” at the City College of New York. He was living in Paris and working for the international edition of the New York Times when he covered his first fight, the 15-round contest between Floyd Patterson and Jimmy Ellis at Stockholm in 1968. He eventually became the Times boxing writer, serving in that capacity for almost nine years before bolting for the New York Daily News in 1985 where he was reunited with the late Vic Ziegel, his former CCNY classmate and cohort at the campus newspaper.
From a legacy standpoint, leaving America’s “paper of record” for a tabloid would seem to be a step down. Before the digital age, the Times was one of only a handful of papers that could be found on microfilm in every college library. Tabloids like the Daily News were evanescent. Yesterday’s paper, said the cynics, was only good for wrapping fish.
But at the Daily News, Michael Katz was less fettered, less of a straight reporter and more of a columnist, freer to air his opinions which tended toward the snarky. Regarding the promoter Don King, Katz wrote, “On the way to the gallows, Don King would try to pick the pocket of the executioner.”
With his metaphoric inkwell steeped in bile, Katz made many enemies. “Bob Arum would sell tickets to a Joey Buttafuoco lecture on morals and be convinced it was for a noble cause,” wrote Katz in 1993. Arum had had enough when Katz took him to task for promoting a fight on the night of Yom Kippur and sued Katz for libel.
“It was out of my hands, HBO picked the date,” said Arum of the 1997 bout between Buster Douglas and John Ruiz that never did come off after Douglas suffered a hand injury in training. (Arum would subsequently drop the suit, saying it wasn’t worth the hassle.)
At press luncheons in Las Vegas, the PR people always made certain to seat Katz with his pals Ed Schuyler, the Associated Press boxing writer, and Pat Putnam, the Sports Illustrated guy. They reveled in each other’s company. But Katz also made enemies with some of his peers on press row, in some cases fracturing longstanding friendships.
“I like Hauser,” wrote Katz in a review of Thomas Hauser’s award-winning biography of Muhammad Ali, “and was afraid that after Tom put in those thousands of hours with Ali, somehow the book couldn’t be as good as I wanted. With relief, I can report it’s better than I had hoped.”
The two later had a falling-out.
Katz’s most celebrated run-in with a colleague happened in June of 2004 when he scuffled with Boston Globe boxing writer Ron Borges in the media room at the MGM Grand during the pre-fight press conference for the fight between Oscar De La Hoya and Felix Sturm. During the fracas, Katz, Borges, Arum, and Arum’s publicist Lee Samuels toppled to the floor. The cantankerous Katz, who initiated the fracas by attacking Borges verbally, then wore a neck brace and carried a cane.
“I had my ups and downs with him,” wrote Borges on social media upon learning of Katz’s death, “but we traveled the world together for nearly 50 years and I long admired his talent, his willingness to stand up for fighters and to call out the b.s. of boxing and its promoters and broadcast entities who worked diligently to try and destroy a noble sport.”
A little-known fact about Michael Katz is that he played a role in getting one of the best boxing books, George Kimball’s vaunted “Four Kings,” to its publishing house. Kimball, who passed away in 2011, an esophageal cancer victim at age 67, was hospitalized and too ill to finish the proofing and editing of the manuscript and enlisted the aid of Katz and an old friend from Boston, Tom Frail, an editor at the Smithsonian magazine, to complete the finishing touches. “If there are any mistakes in the book,” wisecracked Kimball, “blame them.”
Katz was one of the first sportswriters to hop on the internet bandwagon, moving his tack to HouseofBoxing.com which became MaxBoxing.com. That didn’t work out so well for him. Some of his last published pieces ran in the Memphis Commercial Appeal and in the Las Vegas weekly Gaming Today.
A widower for much of his adult life, Katz was predeceased by his only child, his beloved daughter Moorea, a cancer sufferer who passed away in 2021. Her death took all the spirit out of him, noted matchmaker and freelance boxing writer Eric Bottjer in a moving tribute.
During a moment in Atlantic City, Bottjer had been privy to a different side of the irascible curmudgeon, “a beautiful soul when open and vulnerable.” The best way to honor Katz’s memory, he writes, is to reach out to a long lost friend. Pass it on.
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The TSS Fighter of the Month for January is super lightweight Ernesto “Tito” Mercado who scored his sixth straight knockout, advancing his record to 17-0 (16 KOs) with a fourth-round stoppage of Jose Pedraza on the undercard of Diego Pacheco vs. Steven Nelson at the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Las Vegas.
Mercado was expected to win. At age 35, Pedraza’s best days were behind him. But the Puerto Rican “Sniper” wasn’t chopped liver. A 2008 Beijing Olympian, he was a former two-division title-holder. In a previous fight in Las Vegas, in June of 2021, Pedraza proved too savvy for Julian Rodriguez (currently 23-1) whose corner pulled him out after eight rounds. So, although Mercado knew that he was the “A-side,” he also knew, presumably, that it was important to bring his “A” game.
Mercado edged each of the first three frames in what was shaping up as a tactical fight. In round four, he followed a short left hand with an overhand right that landed flush on Pedraza’s temple. “It was a discombobulating punch,” said one of DAZN’s talking heads. Indeed, the way that Pedraza fell was awkward. “[He] crushed colorfully backward and struck the back of his head on the canvas before rising on badly wobbled legs,” wrote ringside reporter Lance Pugmire.
He beat the count, but referee Robert Hoyle wisely waived it off.
Now 23 years old, Ernesto “Tito” Mercado was reportedly 58-5 as an amateur. At the December 2019 U.S. Olympic Trials in Lake Charles, Louisiana, he advanced to the finals in the lightweight division but then took sick and was medically disqualified from competing in the championship round. His opponent, Keyshawn Davis, won in a walkover and went on to win a silver medal at the Tokyo Games.
As a pro, only one of Mercado’s opponents, South African campaigner Xolisani Ndongeni, heard the final bell. Mercado won nine of the 10 rounds. The stubborn Ndongeni had previously gone 10 rounds with Devin Haney and would subsequently go 10 rounds with Raymond Muratalla.
The Ndongeni fight, in July of 2023, was staged in Nicaragua, the homeland of Mercado’s parents. Tito was born in Upland in Southern California’s Inland Empire and currently resides in Pomona.
Pomona has spawned two world champions, the late Richie Sandoval and Sugar Shane Mosley. Mercado is well on his way to becoming the third.
Marcel Cerdan Jr
Born in Casablanca, Marcel Cerdan Jr was four years old when his dad ripped the world middleweight title from Tony Zale. A good fighter in his own right, albeit nowhere near the level of his ill-fated father, the younger Cerdan passed away last week at age 81.
Fighting mostly as a welterweight, Cerdan Jr scored 56 wins in 64 professional bouts against carefully selected opponents. He came up short in his lone appearance in a U.S. ring where he was matched tough against Canadian champion Donato Paduano, losing a 10-round decision on May 11, 1970 at Madison Square Garden. This was a hard, bloody fight in which both men suffered cuts from accidental head butts.
Cerdan Jr and Paduano both trained for the match at the Concord Hotel in the Catskills. In the U.S. papers, Cerdan Jr’s record was listed as 47-0-1. The record conveniently omitted the loss that he had suffered in his third pro bout.
Eight years after his final fight, Cerdan Jr acquired his highest measure of fame for his role in the movie Edith et Marcel. He portrayed his father who famously died at age 33 in a plane crash in the Azores as he was returning to the United States for a rematch with Jake LaMotta who had taken away his title.
Edith et Marcel, directed by Claude Lelouch, focused on the love affair between Cerdan and his mistress Edith Piaf, the former street performer turned cabaret star who remains today the most revered of all the French song stylists.
Released in 1983, twenty years after the troubled Piaf passed away at age 47, the film, which opened to the greatest advertising blitz in French cinematic history, caused a sensation in France, spawning five new books and hundreds of magazine and newspaper articles. Cerdan Jr’s performance was “surprisingly proficient” said the Associated Press about the ex-boxer making his big screen debut.
The French language film occasionally turns up on Turner Classic Movies. Although it got mixed reviews, the film is a feast for the ears for fans of Edith Piaf. The musical score is comprised of Piaf’s original songs in her distinctive voice.
Marcel Cerdan Jr’s death was attributed to pneumonia complicated by Alzheimer’s. May he rest in peace.
Claressa Shields
Speaking of movies, the Claressa Shields biopic, The Fire Inside, released on Christmas day, garnered favorable reviews from some of America’s most respected film critics with Esquire’s Max Cea calling it the year’s best biopic. First-time director Rachel Morrison, screenwriter Barry Jenkins, and Ryan Destiny, who portrays Claressa, were singled out for their excellent work.
The movie highlights Shields’ preparation for the 2012 London Olympics and concludes with her training for the Rio Games where, as we know, she would win a second gold medal. In some respects, the movie is reminiscent of The Fighter, the 2010 film starring Mark Wahlberg as Irish Micky Ward where the filmmakers managed to manufacture a great movie without touching on Ward’s famous trilogy with Arturo Gatti.
The view from here is that screenwriter Jenkins was smart to end the movie where he did. In boxing, and especially in women’s boxing, titles are tossed around like confetti. Had Jenkins delved into Claressa’s pro career, a very sensitive, nuanced biopic, could have easily devolved into something hokey. And that’s certainly no knock on Claressa Shields. The self-described GWOAT, she is dedicated to her craft and a very special talent.
Shields hopes that the buzz from the movie will translate into a full house for her homecoming fight this coming Sunday, Feb. 2, at the Dort Financial Center in Flint, Michigan. A bevy of heavyweight-division straps will be at stake when Shields, who turns 30 in March, takes on 42-year-old Brooklynite Danielle Perkins.
At bookmaking establishments, Claressa is as high as a 25/1 favorite. That informs us that the oddsmakers believe that Perkins is marginally better than Claressa’s last opponent, Vanessa Lepage-Joanisse. That’s damning Perkins with faint praise.
Shields vs. Perkins plus selected undercard bouts will air worldwide on DAZN at 8 pm ET / 5 pm PT.
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