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Anthony Joshua vs. NYC

If you were among those hurrying along Madison Avenue on Saturday afternoon, you might have seen him. He was laid out on the sidewalk under a propped sign, his head on a backpack. He was wearing one of those skinny suits that glint in the sunlight, the ones you usually see in threes on young professionals en route to a collaborative meeting or to entertain some client. This guy was one of them. He should have been up and at it, laughing with colleagues, sneaking looks at passing reflections. Something happened to him. His shoes were missing. Something happened and then something snapped and left him melting into the sidewalk, barefoot, his eyes closed as if to shut the world out. Madison Avenue gave him no more than a glance.
New York, New York, big city of dreams is also a destroyer. It got to a giant Saturday night. It got to him good.
Anthony Joshua was considering Frank Sinatra’s “The Theme from New York, New York” for his ring walk, which would have been the height of irony after that “if” in “if I can make it there” proved bigger than any billboard in Times Square. As it was, his supporters at the weigh-in had too much taste for one thing and not enough for another and shouted down Sinatra in favor of Neil Diamond. So while Joshua was in the dressing room at Madison Square Garden switching out of one groin protector and into another, the rest of us were subjected to a six-thousand-strong sing-along by beer-swilling Brits. “Sweet Caroline” never sounded so bad, so bad.
It was always a mistake to snub Sinatra. In 1969, Jimmy Roselli was a star. He was selling out the Copacabana and television was starting to notice. Then he turned down a request to sing at a charity chaired by Sinatra’s mother. A call was made and the next thing Roselli knew, he couldn’t get a gig or a record deal to save his life. He ended up selling his records out of his trunk on Mulberry Street and driving a delivery truck for Drake’s Coffee Cakes. You didn’t snub Sinatra. It might be worse to snub Sinatra’s ghost.
New York, New York got to Joshua early. Just before making his way to the ring, he hesitated and turned around to take a long swig of water, swishing it around as if he had dry mouth. When he climbed through the ropes and stood under the big lights he seemed to shrink. He was wide-eyed, looking around, chewing on his mouthpiece. He threw a couple of haphazard uppercuts. He took a deep breath. “That’s nerves,” someone said to no one in particular. One of his seconds placed one hand on the top of his head and massaged his neck with the other.
“Six feet six and weighing in officially at two-hundred forty-seven point eight pounds . . . from London England, the fighting pride of the United Kingdom; the reigning, defending, undefeated heavyweight champion of the world . . .” Joshua’s American debut was announced with all the ballyhoo befitting a monolith or a mythical hero. “Nice and relaxed Josh,” his cutman said as he lifted the water bottle to the hero’s lips. “You need a drink?”
Andy Ruiz Jr. walked to the ring wearing a gold and white robe. His pudgy face was a mask of innocence peering out from under a fur-lined hood that recalled those winter jackets kids wore in the 1970s. His goatee was the only indication that he’s old enough to drink. Unlike Joshua, Ruiz wasn’t announced so much as introduced as a personable fellow we should like to get to know. He’s from Imperial, California. He’s fighting for his Mexican heritage. There was a warning there, in that Mexican heritage. It was hidden under drapes of flab and random abscesses and stretch marks. Joshua, already over his head in another battle, couldn’t see the iron; the ethnic pride and unconquerable self-belief.
When the two moved into each other in the first round, it looked like a comedy sketch. Ruiz’s trunks didn’t quite make it over his belly button and he stood no higher than Joshua’s collarbone. Every time he moved, something jiggled. But he was moving fast, shooting jabs at Joshua’s sternum, dipping under big rights. Joshua’s mouth was soon hanging open. The big city was beating him. Ruiz was getting to him too.
In the second round, the 20-to-1 underdog stunned him with an overhand right and his leg jerked out behind him. He was too distracted to adjust to what was happening. Ruiz was disguising his counterattacks with jabs and forays from the perimeter and by punching with him. When caught, Ruiz came storming back with combinations that told of his own dreams. And he wasn’t intimidated by the godlike dimensions in front of him or honking and roaring outside. He wanted to be king of the hill, A-number-one, and this was how to do it. This is where to do it.
In the third round, Joshua landed an uppercut that would have decapitated a middleweight and followed it with a left hook. Ruiz went down. As he was going down, he never took his eyes off Joshua. “I had to get him back,” he said at the post-fight press conference. Scant seconds later Ruiz was up and barreling forward, his dreams barely dented. Joshua landed a right blast and Ruiz surged at him with a left hook and a winging right, then dipped under the incoming counter right and countered that with a left hook. It caught the giant on the temple and triggered the long descent into what was as self-conscious a knockdown as you’ll ever see. Joshua was smiling, embarrassed, but his legs, already shaky, could barely get him upright. Before the end of the round, Ruiz reversed the combination and sent him down again.
The end came in the seventh. Joshua, down for the fourth time in the fight and the second time in the round, got up and lurched from mid-ring to his corner. He could no longer feel his legs and needed support. He needed a drink. He spread his great arms on the top rope and leaned back just as he had during the introductions, a seemingly casual position that’s anything but. The referee saw his exhaustion and ended the fight.
—Ended the fights. Joshua went 0-2 Saturday night.
A panoramic scan of the crowd revealed jubilation and shock; hands aloft, over mouths, clutching hair, clenched at temples, high-fiving. Ruiz was at the center of it all, celebrating with shameless abandon. It was a joy to see; the fat kid we all knew in school (and some of us were) had bopped his way to the top of the heap. Joshua too was caught up in the moment. He took a giant’s step outside of his own ego and smiled down at his unexpected conqueror. Then he embraced him like a friend and a brother. “He is genuinely over the moon for Andy Ruiz,” said Eddie Hearn, “but he’ll be absolutely devastated when this kicks in.”
Will he leave his shoes at Madison Square Garden and melt away on Madison Ave? Not a chance. He’ll make a brand new start of it, in old York or thereabouts.
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Arne’s Almanac: The First BWAA Dinner Was Quite the Shindig

The first annual dinner of the Boxing Writers Association of America was staged on April 25, 1926 in the grand ballroom of New York’s Hotel Astor, an edifice that rivaled the original Waldorf Astoria as the swankiest hotel in the city. Back then, the organization was known as the Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York.
The ballroom was configured to hold 1200 for the banquet which was reportedly oversubscribed. Among those listed as agreeing to attend were the governors of six states (New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and Maryland) and the mayors of 10 of America’s largest cities.
In 1926, radio was in its infancy and the digital age was decades away (and inconceivable). So, every journalist who regularly covered boxing was a newspaper and/or magazine writer, editor, or cartoonist. And at this juncture in American history, there were plenty of outlets for someone who wanted to pursue a career as a sportswriter and had the requisite skills to get hired.
The following papers were represented at the inaugural boxing writers’ dinner:
New York Times
New York News
New York World
New York Sun
New York Journal
New York Post
New York Mirror
New York Telegram
New York Graphic
New York Herald Tribune
Brooklyn Eagle
Brooklyn Times
Brooklyn Standard Union
Brooklyn Citizen
Bronx Home News
This isn’t a complete list because a few of these papers, notably the New York World and the New York Journal, had strong afternoon editions that functioned as independent papers. Plus, scribes from both big national wire services (Associated Press and UPI) attended the banquet and there were undoubtedly a smattering of scribes from papers in New Jersey and Connecticut.
Back then, the event’s organizer Nat Fleischer, sports editor of the New York Telegram and the driving force behind The Ring magazine, had little choice but to limit the journalistic component of the gathering to writers in the New York metropolitan area. There wasn’t a ballroom big enough to accommodate a good-sized response if he had extended the welcome to every boxing writer in North America.
The keynote speaker at the inaugural dinner was New York’s charismatic Jazz Age mayor James J. “Jimmy” Walker, architect of the transformative Walker Law of 1920 which ushered in a new era of boxing in the Empire State with a template that would guide reformers in many other jurisdictions.
Prizefighting was then associated with hooligans. In his speech, Mayor Walker promised to rid the sport of their ilk. “Boxing, as you know, is closest to my heart,” said hizzoner. “So I tell you the police force is behind you against those who would besmirch or injure boxing. Rowdyism doesn’t belong in this town or in your game.” (In 1945, Walker would be the recipient of the Edward J. Neil Memorial Award given for meritorious service to the sport. The oldest of the BWAA awards, the previous recipients were all active or former boxers. The award, no longer issued under that title, was named for an Associated Press sportswriter and war correspondent who died from shrapnel wounds covering the Spanish Civil War.)
Another speaker was well-traveled sportswriter Wilbur Wood, then affiliated with the Brooklyn Citizen. He told the assembly that the aim of the organization was two-fold: to help defend the game against its detractors and to promote harmony among the various factions.
Of course, the 1926 dinner wouldn’t have been as well-attended without the entertainment. According to press dispatches, Broadway stars and performers from some of the city’s top nightclubs would be there to regale the attendees. Among the names bandied about were vaudeville superstars Sophie Tucker and Jimmy Durante, the latter of whom would appear with his trio, Durante, (Lou) Clayton, and (Eddie) Jackson.
There was a contraction of New York newspapers during the Great Depression. Although empirical evidence is lacking, the inaugural boxing writers dinner was likely the largest of its kind. Fifteen years later, in 1941, the event drew “more than 200” according to a news report. There was no mention of entertainment.
In 1950, for the first time, the annual dinner was opened to the public. For $25, a civilian could get a meal and mingle with some of his favorite fighters. Sugar Ray Robinson was the Edward J. Neil Award winner that year, honored for his ring exploits and for donating his purse from the Charlie Fusari fight to the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund.
There was no formal announcement when the Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York was re-christened the Boxing Writers Association of America, but by the late 1940s reporters were referencing the annual event as simply the boxing writers dinner. By then, it had become traditional to hold the annual affair in January, a practice discontinued after 1971.
The winnowing of New York’s newspaper herd plus competing banquets in other parts of the country forced Nat Fleischer’s baby to adapt. And more adaptations will be necessary in the immediate future as the future of the BWAA, as it currently exists, is threatened by new technologies. If the forthcoming BWAA dinner (April 30 at the Edison Ballroom in mid-Manhattan) were restricted to wordsmiths from the traditional print media, the gathering would be too small to cover the nut and the congregants would be drawn disproportionately from the geriatric class.
Some of those adaptations have already started. Last year, Las Vegas resident Sean Zittel, a recent UNLV graduate, had the distinction of becoming the first videographer welcomed into the BWAA. With more and more people getting their news from sound bites, rather than the written word, the videographer serves an important function.
The reporters who conducted interviews with pen and paper have gone the way of the dodo bird and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. A taped interview for a “talkie” has more integrity than a story culled from a paper and pen interview because it is unfiltered. Many years ago, some reporters, after interviewing the great Joe Louis, put words in his mouth that made him seem like a dullard, words consistent with the Sambo stereotype. In other instances, the language of some athletes was reconstructed to the point where the reader would think the athlete had a second job as an English professor.
The content created by videographers is free from that bias. More of them will inevitably join the BWAA and similar organizations in the future.
Photo: Nat Fleischer is flanked by Sugar Ray Robinson and Tony Zale at the 1947 boxing writers dinner.
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Gabriela Fundora KOs Marilyn Badillo and Perez Upsets Conwell in Oceanside

It was just a numbers game for Gabriela Fundora and despite Mexico’s Marilyn Badillo’s elusive tactics it took the champion one punch to end the fight and retain her undisputed flyweight world title by knockout on Saturday.
Will it be her last flyweight defense?
Though Fundora (16-0, 8 KOs) fired dozens of misses, a single punch found Badillo (19-1-1, 3 KOs) and ended her undefeated career and first attempt at a world title at the Frontwave Arena in Oceanside, California.
Fundora, however, proves unbeatable at flyweight.
The champion entered the arena as the headliner for the Golden Boy Promotion show and stepped through the ropes with every physical advantage possible, including power.
Mexico’s Badillo was a midget compared to Fundora but proved to be as elusive as a butterfly in a menagerie for the first six rounds. As the six-inch taller Fundora connected on one punch for every dozen thrown, that single punch was a deadly reminder.
Badillo tried ducking low and slipping to the left while countering with slashing uppercuts, she found little success. She did find the body a solid target but the blows proved to be useless. And when Badillo clinched, that proved more erroneous as Fundora belted her rapidly during the tie-ups.
“She was kind of doing her ducking thing,” said Fundora describing Badillo’s defensive tactics. “I just put the pressure on. It was just like a train. We didn’t give her that break.”
The Mexican fighter tried valiantly with various maneuvers. None proved even slightly successful. Fundora remained poised and under control as she stalked the challenger.
In the seventh round Badillo seemed to take a stand and try to slug it out with Fundora. She quickly was lit up by rapid left crosses and down she went at 1:44 of the seventh round. The Mexican fighter’s corner wisely waved off the fight and referee Rudy Barragan stopped the fight and held the dazed Badillo upright.
Once again Fundora remained champion by knockout. The only question now is will she move up to super flyweight or bantamweight to challenge the bigger girls.
Perez Beats Conwell.
Mexico’s Jorge “Chino” Perez (33-4, 26 KOs) upset Charles Conwell (21-1, 15 KOs) to win by split decision after 12 rounds in their super welterweight showdown.
It was a match that paired two hard-hitting fighters whose ledgers brimmed with knockouts, but neither was able to score a knockdown against each other.
Neither fighter moved backward. It was full steam ahead with Conwell proving successful to the body and head with left hooks and Perez connecting with rights to the head and body. It was difficult to differentiate the winner.
Though Conwell seemed to be the superior defensive fighter and more accurate, two judges preferred Perez’s busier style. They gave the fight to Perez by 115-113 scores with the dissenter favoring Conwell by the same margin.
It was Conwell’s first pro loss. Maybe it will open doors for more opportunities.
Other Bouts
Tristan Kalkreuth (15-1) managed to pass a serious heat check by unanimous decision against former contender Felix Valera (24-8) after a 10-round back-and-forth heavyweight fight.
It was very close.
Kalkreuth is one of those fighters that possess all the physical tools including youth and size but never seems to be able to show it. Once again he edged past another foe but at least this time he faced an experienced fighter in Valera.
Valera had his moments especially in the middle of the 10-round fight but slowed down during the last three rounds.
One major asset for Kalkreuth was his chin. He got caught but still motored past the clever Valera. After 10 rounds two judges saw it 99-91 and one other judge 97-93 all for Kalkreuth.
Highly-rated prospect Ruslan Abdullaev (2-0) blasted past dangerous Jino Rodrigo (13- 5-2) in an eight round super lightweight fight. He nearly stopped the very tough Rodrigo in the last two rounds and won by unanimous decision.
Abdullaev is trained by Joel and Antonio Diaz in Indio.
Bakersfield prospect Joel Iriarte (7-0, 7 KOs) needed only 1:44 to knock out Puerto Rico’s Marcos Jimenez (25-12) in a welterweight bout.
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‘Krusher’ Kovalev Exits on a Winning Note: TKOs Artur Mann in his ‘Farewell Fight’

At his peak, former three-time world light heavyweight champion Sergey “Krusher” Kovalev ranked high on everyone’s pound-for-pound list. Now 42 years old – he turned 42 earlier this month – Kovalev has been largely inactive in recent years, but last night he returned to the ring in his hometown of Chelyabinsk, Russia, and rose to the occasion in what was billed as his farewell fight, stopping Artur Mann in the seventh frame.
Kovalev hit his peak during his first run as a world title-holder. He was 30-0-1 (26 KOs) entering first match with Andre Ward, a mark that included a 9-0 mark in world title fights. The only blemish on his record was a draw that could have been ruled a no-contest (journeyman Grover Young was unfit to continue after Kovalev knocked down in the second round what with was deemed an illegal rabbit punch). Among those nine wins were two stoppages of dangerous Haitian-Canadian campaigner Jean Pascal and a 12-round shutout over Bernard Hopkins.
Kovalev’s stature was not diminished by his loss to the undefeated Ward. All three judges had it 114-113, but the general feeling among the ringside press was that Sergey nicked it.
The rematch was also somewhat controversial. Referee Tony Weeks, who halted the match in the eighth stanza with Kovalev sitting on the lower strand of ropes, was accused of letting Ward get away with a series of low blows, including the first punch of a three-punch series of body shots that culminated in the stoppage. Sergey was wobbled by a punch to the head earlier in the round and was showing signs of fatigue, but he was still in the fight. Respected judge Steve Weisfeld had him up by three points through the completed rounds.
Sergey Kovalev was never the same after his second loss to Andre Ward, albeit he recaptured a piece of the 175-pound title twice, demolishing Vyacheslav Shabranskyy for the vacant WBO belt after Ward announced his retirement and then avenging a loss to Eleider Alvarez (TKO by 7) with a comprehensive win on points in their rematch.
Kovalev’s days as a title-holder ended on Nov. 2, 2019 when Canelo Alvarez, moving up two weight classes to pursue a title in a fourth weight division, stopped him in the 11th round, terminating what had been a relatively even fight with a hellacious left-right combination that left Krusher so discombobulated that a count was superfluous.
That fight went head-to-head with a UFC fight in New York City. DAZN, to their everlasting discredit, opted to delay the start of Canelo-Kovalev until the main event of the UFC fight was finished. The delay lasted more than an hour and Kovalev would say that he lost his psychological edge during the wait.
Kovalev had two fights in the cruiserweight class between his setback to Canelo and last night’s presumptive swan song. He outpointed Tervel Pulev in Los Angeles and lost a 10-round decision to unheralded Robin Sirwan Safar in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Artur Mann, a former world title challenger – he was stopped in three rounds by Mairis Briedis in 2021 when Briedis was recognized as the top cruiserweight in the world – was unexceptional, but the 34-year-old German, born in Kazakhstan, wasn’t chopped liver either, and Kovalev’s stoppage of him will redound well to the Russian when he becomes eligible for the Boxing Hall of Fame.
Krusher almost ended the fight in the second round. He knocked Mann down hard with a short left hand and seemingly scored another knockdown before the round was over (but it was ruled a slip). Mann barely survived the round.
In the next round, a punch left Mann with a bad cut on his right eyelid, but the German came to fight and rounds three, four and five were competitive.
Kovalev had a good sixth round although there were indications that he was tiring. But in the seventh he got a second wind and unleashed a right-left combination that rolled back the clock to the days when he was one of the sport’s most feared punchers. Mann went down hard and as he staggered to his feet, his corner signaled that the fight should be stopped and the referee complied. The official time was 0:49 of round seven. It was the 30th KO for Kovalev who advanced his record to 36-5-1.
Addendum: History informs us that Farewell Fights have a habit of becoming redundant, by which we mean that boxers often get the itch to fight again after calling it quits. Have we seen the last of Sergey “Krusher” Kovalev? We woudn’t bet on it.
The complete Kovalev-Mann fight card was live-streamed on the Boxing News youtube channel.
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