Featured Articles
Shawn Porter is a Wrecking Ball with a Grade-A Chin, but the Pick is Crawford

Terence Crawford will finally have a chance to reshape the narrative of his (so far) middling stint in the welterweight ranks when he defends his 147-pound bauble against the redoubtable Shawn Porter Saturday night at the Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino in Las Vegas. Who knows, if the end result swings in his favor – and it should – you may even see the surly switch-hitter break into a smile.
Ever since he hiked up to the so-called glamour division some four odd years ago, Omaha’s Crawford has reaped seemingly every desirable outcome an elite prizefighter could dream of from the sport: outsize paychecks (cut by his longtime promoter Top Rank), exposure on national television (via media mammoth ESPN), and nonstop adulation as a generational great (according to Joe Tessitore and anyone with a Twitter handle). So why all the sulking?
Because for every ditty sung in praise of Crawford’s “pound-for-pound” bonafides, a barrage of jeers rains down from the peanut gallery, calling into question his credentials at the welterweight limit – and rightfully so. His white whale, Errol Spence Jr., has remained beyond reach, on account of the ceaseless factional rifts in the sport. Manny Pacquiao has retired (for now) to become a fulltime politico. That Crawford’s run thus far at 147 has been underwhelming is an understatement. His first fight in the division, after all, was a title shot against the tough-as-nails but cloddish Jeff Horn, a former school teacher. The matchmaking did not improve. Jose Benavidez Jr., Amir Khan, and Kell Brook were all, to one degree or another, hobbled and shopworn. Only Egidijus Kavaliauskas, a solid contender who managed to give Crawford a few fits in the early going before folding late, can be said to have been in his prime. Indeed, the disjunction between the prestige of his name and the inadequacy of his résumé can only be the source of much frustration, if not outright embarrassment, for a fighter as prideful as Crawford. Nobody in boxing, not even a palooka, wants to hear that their career is a sham.
The recent achievement of Canelo Alvarez, who unified all four belts in the 168-pound division with a stoppage over Caleb Plant earlier this month, serves as an instructive foil. Even Crawford, 34, seemed to be in awe of Alvarez’s latest milestone, his recent comments suggesting a whiff of envy.
“[Alvarez] has fought four times in the past year,” Crawford told Sky Sports. “He has become undisputed. He is getting all of the fights that he wants right now. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to. It has been frustrating. But what’s meant for me, I will have. Everything happens for a reason and I believe that my time is coming. I feel like I’m already there, but I have to prove it to the world and it starts with Porter.”
Although Crawford has described Porter in ways that suggest he views him as nothing more than a steppingstone – “I told him I’m not looking to fight you,” Crawford recounted to Tim Bradley. “I’m looking to fight Spence, I’m looking to fight Keith Thurman, because they’ve got something to offer.” – the mauler from Cleveland, Ohio is clearly the toughest opponent of his career. A former football player, Porter is a wrecking ball in perpetual motion. Few willingly line up to face Porter, and those who have faced him are never in the mood for a rematch. “[It’s like] skydiving for the first time,” Kenny Porter said of his son recently. “When you get to the ground and you’re safe, you say, ‘whew, I made it. I’m never doing that again.’ That’s Shawn Porter. That’s what you get.”
In recent years, Porter has added a bit more finesse to his pedal-to-the-metal approach, in addition to shoring up some of the more unsavory aspects of his aggressive style, namely his tendency to smother his punches, utilize elbows, and lead with his head. In what may have been the best performance of his career (albeit in a losing effort) against Spence, Porter landed a surprising number of clean, strafing blows. But his worst habits came back to haunt him late, when Spence caught him waffling on the inside, chin exposed, with a left cross that put him down. To his credit, Porter, 31-3-1, (17), was not visibly shaken. Nevertheless, such lapses figure to be a recipe for disaster against a marksman as accurate and lethal as Crawford. Still, compared to previous Crawford victims, Porter is durable, superbly conditioned, and perhaps most importantly, he has an A-grade chin.
Unlike Porter, Crawford does not have any glaring weaknesses. He hits hard with both hands, can switch stances on a dime, and possesses, like the best jazz artists, an improvisatory feel for the game. He can also take a punch. What makes Crawford especially unique in boxing today though is his ability to finish. He has stopped every single welterweight he has ever fought, a feat worth mentioning given that is not an inclination shared by some of his top peers; Thurman has gone the distance with Josesito Lopez, Danny Garcia with Ivan Redkach, and Spence with an undersized Mikey Garcia. The last time Crawford, 37-0 (28), went the distance was in 2016, when he defeated Viktor Postol on points. Porter, of course, is an entirely different proposition. Moreover, one concern for Crawford is that he seems to be more hittable in recent fights. Against Brook, Crawford had trouble avoiding the jab; against Kavaliauskas, he ate his fair share of right hands. On the other hand, Crawford will not have to worry about being presented with those same problems by Porter, whose strengths are of the more rough-hewn variety.
In order to have his hands raised at the end of the night, Porter must fight according to his natural instincts and employ the same gung-ho tactics that he used against Spence. Trying to be a cutie, as he imprudently did against Yordenis Ugas, is not the answer here. Yet he is up against an opponent who excels at containing pressure fighters and countering their aggression. That is why it is doubly important that Porter win the early rounds and take advantage of the fact that Crawford typically starts slow. The path for Porter to win is on the judges’ scorecards.
Crawford, on the other hand, needs to take a page out of the playback he employed for Horn. That means fighting exclusively out of the southpaw stance, doubling up the jab, and snapping off hooks while simultaneously circling away to his right. Eventually, Crawford will mix in uppercuts and find a home for his straight left. Unless Crawford, no spring chicken, has diminished considerably, it is hard to envision him squandering this opportunity. By the late rounds, Porter should be ready to go. Expect a violent finish – and perhaps even a smile…. CRAWFORD TKO 11
Check out more boxing news on video at the Boxing Channel
To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE
Featured Articles
Sam Goodman and Eccentric Harry Garside Score Wins on a Wednesday Card in Sydney

Australian junior featherweight Sam Goodman, ranked #1 by the IBF and #2 by the WBO, returned to the ring today in Sydney, NSW, and advanced his record to 20-0 (8) with a unanimous 10-round decision over Mexican import Cesar Vaca (19-2). This was Goodman’s first fight since July of last year. In the interim, he twice lost out on lucrative dates with Japanese superstar Naoya Inoue. Both fell out because of cuts that Goodman suffered in sparring.
Goodman was cut again today and in two places – below his left eye in the eighth and above his right eye in the ninth, the latter the result of an accidental head butt – but by then he had the bout firmly in control, albeit the match wasn’t quite as one-sided as the scores (100-90, 99-91, 99-92) suggested. Vaca, from Guadalajara, was making his first start outside his native country.
Goodman, whose signature win was a split decision over the previously undefeated American fighter Ra’eese Aleem, is handled by the Rose brothers — George, Trent, and Matt — who also handle the Tszyu brothers, Tim and Nikita, and two-time Olympian (and 2021 bronze medalist) Harry Garside who appeared in the semi-wind-up.
Harry Garside

Harry Garside
A junior welterweight from a suburb of Melbourne, Garside, 27, is an interesting character. A plumber by trade who has studied ballet, he occasionally shows up at formal gatherings wearing a dress.
Garside improved to 4-0 (3 KOs) as a pro when the referee stopped his contest with countryman Charlie Bell after five frames, deciding that Bell had taken enough punishment. It was a controversial call although Garside — who fought the last four rounds with a cut over his left eye from a clash of heads in the opening frame – was comfortably ahead on the cards.
Heavyweights
In a slobberknocker being hailed as a shoo-in for the Australian domestic Fight of the Year, 34-year-old bruisers Stevan Ivic and Toese Vousiutu took turns battering each other for 10 brutal rounds. It was a miracle that both were still standing at the final bell. A Brisbane firefighter recognized as the heavyweight champion of Australia, Ivic (7-0-1, 2 KOs) prevailed on scores of 96-94 and 96-93 twice. Melbourne’s Vousiuto falls to 8-2.
Tim Tsyzu.
The oddsmakers have installed Tim Tszyu a small favorite (minus-135ish) to avenge his loss to Sebastian Fundora when they tangle on Sunday, July 20, at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.
Their first meeting took place in this same ring on March 30 of last year. Fundora, subbing for Keith Thurman, saddled Tszyu with his first defeat, taking away the Aussie’s WBO 154-pound world title while adding the vacant WBC belt to his dossier. The verdict was split but fair. Tszyu fought the last 11 rounds with a deep cut on his hairline that bled profusely, the result of an errant elbow.
Since that encounter, Tszyu was demolished in three rounds by Bakhram Murtazaliev in Orlando and rebounded with a fourth-round stoppage of Joey Spencer in Newcastle, NSW. Fundora has been to post one time, successfully defending his belts with a dominant fourth-round stoppage of Chordale Booker.
To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE
Featured Articles
Thomas Hauser’s Literary Notes: Johnny Greaves Tells a Sad Tale

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

In an excellent fight climaxed by a furious 12th round, Argentina’s Fernando Daniel Martinez came off the deck to win his rematch with Kazuto Ioka and retain his piece of the world 115-pound title. The match was staged at Ioka’s familiar stomping grounds, the Ota-City General Gymnasium in Tokyo.
In their first meeting on July 7 of last year in Tokyo, Martinez was returned the winner on scores of 117-111, 116-112, and a bizarre 120-108. The rematch was slated for late December, but Martinez took ill a few hours before the weigh-in and the bout was postponed.
The 33-year-old Martinez, who came in sporting a 17-0 (9) record, was a 7-2 favorite to win the sequel, but there were plenty of reasons to favor Ioka, 36, aside from his home field advantage. The first Japanese male fighter to win world titles in four weight classes, Ioka was 3-0 in rematches and his long-time trainer Ismael Salas was on a nice roll. Salas was 2-0 last weekend in Times Square, having handled upset-maker Rolly Romero and Reito Tsutsumi who was making his pro debut.
But the fourth time was not a charm for Ioka (31-4-1) who seemingly pulled the fight out of the fire in round 10 when he pitched the Argentine to the canvas with a pair of left hooks, but then wasn’t able to capitalize on the momentum swing.
Martinez set a fast pace and had Ioka fighting off his back foot for much of the fight. Beginning in round seven, Martinez looked fatigued, but the Argentine was conserving his energy for the championship rounds. In the end, he won the bout on all three cards: 114-113, 116-112, 117-110.
Up next for Fernando Martinez may be a date with fellow unbeaten Jesse “Bam” Rodriguez, the lineal champion at 115. San Antonio’s Rodriguez is a huge favorite to keep his title when he defends against South Africa’s obscure Phumelela Cafu on July 19 in Frisco, Texas.
As for Ioka, had he won today’s rematch, that may have gotten him over the hump in so far as making it into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. True, winning titles in four weight classes is no great shakes when the bookends are only 10 pounds apart, but Ioka is still a worthy candidate.
To comment on this story in the Fight Forum CLICK HERE
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
Mekhrubon Sanginov, whose Heroism Nearly Proved Fatal, Returns on Saturday
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
Avila Perspective, Chap. 322: Super Welterweight Week in SoCal
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
TSS Salutes Thomas Hauser and his Bernie Award Cohorts
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
Gabriela Fundora KOs Marilyn Badillo and Perez Upsets Conwell in Oceanside
-
Featured Articles4 weeks ago
‘Krusher’ Kovalev Exits on a Winning Note: TKOs Artur Mann in his ‘Farewell Fight’
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Floyd Mayweather has Another Phenom and his name is Curmel Moton
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Arne’s Almanac: The First Boxing Writers Assoc. of America Dinner Was Quite the Shindig
-
Featured Articles3 weeks ago
Avila Perspective, Chap. 323: Benn vs Eubank Family Feud and More