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Roy Jones Has A Better Case For “TBE” Than Floyd Mayweather

Fighters fight, that’s what they do.
Real fighters never fear they might lose, instead they go into the ring wholeheartedly believing they are going to win regardless of who is coming out of the opposite corner. And ultimately they fight on too long and eventually suffer losses to opponents who they wouldn’t even have paid to spar with them during their prime. The losses on their record begin to mount and slowly but surely the observers who saw them when they were practically untouchable forget about the supreme fighters they once were.
If there is a better case or example of the above, I can’t think of one better than former three division champ Roy Jones 61-8 (44).
Between 1989 and 2003, Roy was one of the most physically skilled and gifted fighters of the last 50 years, easily. Roy was the perfect blend of athleticism, speed and power. He had blinding hand and foot speed, could fight in retreat or he could counter punch and when he chose to, he could take the initiative and explode offensively. And what a terrific body puncher he was.
During the years 1989-2003, Roy was a maestro in the ring, he really was. As a former fighter, it was easy to appreciate and marvel at all the tools and weapons he brought to do combat with. I think heavyweights aside, I only marveled at Sugar Ray Leonard more from a fascination vantage point. Sadly, Roy, because he’s a fighter and it’s so much a part of his DNA, he’s continues to seek one more big moment at age 46. The problem is, Jones is not Bernard Hopkins, in that Hopkins is/was much more technically proficient than he was and was more capable of protecting himself. Roy dominated with athleticism, speed and physical brilliance in much the same way Muhammad Ali did. And like Ali, once the athleticism eroded, he didn’t have the basics and fundamentals to fall back on and became more vulnerable defensively. Ali lost three of his last four fights. Jones has won seven in a row since suffering three consecutive loses, two by knockout, in between 2009-2011. And after winning seven bouts in a row against fighters who wouldn’t have made it as his sparring partner during his prime, he’s at the doorstep of getting a shot a one of the cruiserweight titles.
Today, it’s widely considered that Floyd Mayweather is the best pound-for-pound fighter in professional boxing. Ironically, Jones did the color commentary on Mayweather’s last fight against Manny Pacquiao. It wasn’t that long ago when Roy Jones was considered the best pound-for-pound fighter in the sport. This of course leads one to make comparisons between the best Jones and the best Mayweather when listening to Roy comment on Floyd. And frankly, I don’t think it’s much of a contest.
From a physical skill-set, Jones was faster than Mayweather, had a better offensive repertoire, punched harder with both hands, was a better body puncher and finisher, and yes, because of his foot speed and foot-work, he was harder to hit. In fact the only category where Mayweather gets the check in his column is in the punch resistance column. And even that is a little misleading. Remember, when Roy was stopped and lost for the first time in the ring against Antonio Tarver in their rematch, he was 49-1 (38). The lone defeat was by DQ versus Montel Griffin, who he hit while he was down in the ninth round of their first fight. Roy demolished Griffin in the first round five months later when they met again. So if you compare Jones and Mayweather through 48 fights, Jones is 47-1 (38), but really he is 48-0 (38) compared to Mayweather who is 48-0 (26), and could be 47-1 (26). Floyd lost the first time he fought Jose Luis Castillo in the eyes of everybody who saw the fight and knows what they’re watching. Whereas Jones never even had a close fight through his first 48 bouts and seldom lost a round. There was never a discussion during any of Roy’s bouts circa 1989 and 2003 as to whether he won or lost – the discussion was did he even lose a minute of the bout let alone a round or two.
Some have, myself included, suggested that Mayweather’s opposition and when he fought the biggest names on his record is a little spotty. This is something that applies to Jones as well, only to a lesser degree. The difference is, Jones dominated Bernard Hopkins (a certifiable all-time great and Hall of Famer) when he was near his peak physically. Hopkins entered the fight with Jones 22-1, with the loss coming in his pro-debut. Hopkins won 22 bouts in a row before losing to Jones by a pronounced margin, and then went undefeated for 12 years 1993-2005 after he fought Jones.
Roy fought James Toney a year and a half after he beat Hopkins. Toney entered their fight undefeated at 44-0-2. Jones dominated Toney even more than he did Hopkins and dropped him in the third round. Toney happens to be one of the most complete/great fighters circa 1990-2003. He beat outstanding/great fighters in between middleweight and heavyweight. Toney, like Hopkins, is a certifiable all-time great and Hall of Famer. And Toney holds a stoppage win over former heavyweight great Evander Holyfield, something Dwight Muhammad Qawi, Buster Douglas, Bert Cooper, George Foreman, Michael Moorer, Ray Mercer, Mike Tyson and Lennox Lewis couldn’t do in 12 total fights. Combined, Hopkins and Toney entered their fight with Jones 66-1-2, and it’s doubtful that combined they won six of the 24 rounds they fought him.
After going virtually unchallenged fighting middleweights and light heavyweights during the years 1989-2002, Jones challenged WBA heavyweight title holder John Ruiz in March of 2003. Ruiz entered the fight 38-4-1. His four losses were to Sergey Kobosev (15-0), Danell Nicholson (15-1), David Tua (22-0) and Evander Holyfield (36-4-1). As you can see there were no soft touches for Ruiz. One was unbeaten, one only lost once, Tua was undefeated and is one of the biggest single shot punching heavyweights in history and Holyfield is among the all-time top-10 greats in heavyweight history. No, Ruiz wasn’t the second coming of Joe Louis, but held wins over Tony Tucker, Evander Holyfield and Kirk Johnson before fighting Jones. After losing to Jones he beat Hasim Rahman, Fres Oquendo and Andrew Golota.
Everybody makes a big deal about how middleweight champ Gennady Golovin is too big for Floyd Mayweather, out-weighing him 159-146. Well, Ruiz was 50 pounds heavier than any other opponent Jones ever fought. Did Roy ask for Ruiz to weigh in lighter than he had for any other heavyweight fight? No. Did he ask for Ruiz to wear special gloves or undergo any other specified testing? No. What Jones did was allow Ruiz, who won and retained the title against Evander Holyfield, to fight him under those same conditions. And Roy won eight, nine and 10 of the 12-rounds against Ruiz on the judges’ scorecards. In fact Jones’ decision over Ruiz was about as legitimate as it gets regarding a smaller fighter challenging a bigger fighter. No catch-weights or subterfuge to game the system.
In my opinion, Jones dominating Hopkins, Toney and Ruiz the way he did when he did gives him a better claim to being “TBE” than Mayweather has. Floyd has nothing on his record to compare to that, no way, no how. And Roy was never stopped or beaten up until after he went back down to light heavyweight after moving up to heavyweight to challenge Ruiz. Had Roy retired after beating Ruiz, he would’ve had a legitimate case to be considered among the five greatest pound-for-pound boxers/fighters in history. This is a claim Mayweather couldn’t even make jokingly.
And to those who say Jones feared and ducked light heavyweight Dariusz Michalczewski, wake up and smell the coffee. Michalczewski wouldn’t fight outside of Germany and Poland. After getting hosed out of a Gold medal at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul South Korea, Roy feared leaving the United States and didn’t trust the foreign judges. Mayweather won’t even leave the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.
Roy Jones was superior to Floyd Mayweather in terms of physical skill and talent in the ring. At their best he was clearly the greater fighter and has the better resume. He took more risks and beat greater fighters along with a few stiffs in between. Sure, when it comes to the amount of money made per-risk taken, Mayweather is no doubt “TBE” in that regard. But Roy Jones was a once in a lifetime talent, like Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard. I just can’t say that for Floyd Mayweather.
Frank Lotierzo can be contacted at GlovedFist@Gmail.com
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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.
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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.
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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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