One of the truly great stylists in boxing history fought his last bout 55 years ago today. Thirty-nine years young at the time, Jersey Joe Walcott (née Arnold Cream) met Rocky Marciano on May 15th, 1953 in a rematch of their legendary bout from September of '52, one of the most famous heavyweight title fights in history and maybe the most famous knockout of all time. Behind on points in the 13th round, the Rock unleashed a ferocious right and took the heavyweight title from Walcott with a single brainblasting shot:
The rematch, fought at Chicago Stadium, was not nearly so epic. In fact, it didn't make it out of the first round. Marciano put Walcott down with a one-two at about 2:10 of the first. Dazed but sentient, Walcott watched the ref give the count, seemingly ready to get back to the action. But he mistimed his rise to his feet and was still on the canvas at the count of ten. The ref waved it off and the thing was done. He protested, his handlers protested, but there wasn't much to argue about. Watching the video below, you'll see that although the ref did count at a mighty quick pace, Jersey Joe was most definitely still down at ten.
Walcott retired after the fight and remained retired, although he certainly didn't fade from the limelight. He made an appearance in the great Bogart boxing film, The Harder They Fall, tried the pro wrestling hustle, and of course, he did an infamously bad job of reffing the Ali/Liston "phantom punch" fight in 1965. Later on, he became the sheriff of Camden and then the chairman of the New Jersey State Athletic Commission. He died in 1994.
In that we've been gone so long and so much has happened in our absence, I thought I'd start today by airing out my thoughts on a few major stories in our bread-and-butter pursuit here at the Mas, the sweet science.
Cotto v. Margo - The April 12th Cotto/Gomez, Margarito/Cintron card, despite featuring two non-competitive fights, proved to be a great night for boxing in that it set up the kind of Immovable Object v. Irresistible Force bout that, for all the big names floating around out there, was sorely lacking from the remainder of the 2008 schedule. I'm still a little worried that it won't happen for some reason - nothing is signed yet as far as I know and no location has been agreed upon. But still, this bout is a fight fan's dream. Obviously we have a lot of time to mull it over and so I won't get into any deep prognostification right now, other than to say that I lean towards Cotto but with heavy reservations.
Oscar Spars in Front of 27,000 People - I was in the house for this one doing some reportage for The Sporting Blog (you can check those posts here and here and here). On the whole, I thought it was more competitive than expected, particularly early, where I had Stevie winning... I think I had it 3-2 Oscar after 5. Mostly it seemed like a soft outing for The Golden Boy, with some real deterioration of both speed and power on display. How much of it was rust it's hard to say. I was talking to a journalist down on press row who said he'd had a long talk with Floyd Sr. the day before and that Daddy Floyd had told him that he'd hated the Forbes make from the beginning, that Oscar was setting himself up to need a big knockout to come out of the fight looking good and that Stevie was a very difficult guy to knock out or even hurt that much. And that was pretty much the story of the evening, a glorified sparring session in which Oscar decisively won rounds but did little else to impress. Was that a function of Forbes' savvy? Maybe. But I couldn't help feel like five years ago Oscar would have gotten him out of there no problem. I certainly saw nothing to make me think that he'll fare any better in a rematch with Money May.
Execution - Did Calzaghe/Hopkins even happen? Doesn't that fight almost seem like a mirage now? When I saw Bernard in the ring at the Oscar/Forbes fight, preening around as if he was running the show in an expensive-looking suit and an ill-advised peach shirt, I thought to myself, goddamn man holms is never going to retire. He looked like he might peel that Armani shit off at any moment and get to fighting with somebody just to get some himself some attention. And it's a shame, because after that Calzaghe slap-and-tickle session, I really feel like I don't want to watch another BHop fight. He's tough to read, he makes you look bad, he never lets you hit him square, he fouls the crap out of you and the ref never knows it... all true. He's a marvel, a walking boxing compendium of angles and maneuvers and sneakyass shit. But he doesn't fight to win anymore - he just doesn't have it in him. He was never a thrill-a-minute guy even in his prime, and now, well, now he's excruciating to watch. I hope we've seen his last fight, but I sincerely doubt it. Something tells me that Tito Trinidad thing is going to happen whether we want it or not.
Money May Disappoints Money-Wise - Did you see this? Wrestlemania's PPV numbers were down this year, a fact that is largely being attributed to Lil Floyd being not nearly the draw that McMahon and Co. thought he would be. Which I think is good news all around, to be honest. I'm all for the circus act, but some active encouragement to get back to basics seems in order for Cash Money right about now.
Well, first of all, I'm none too sure this is going to post right now. Things have been pretty mercurial lately. Those test posts went up days after I initially tried to get them up. But just in the off chance that this works like it's supposed to today, let me get an update up here on the status of the Mas.
If you haven't followed the conversations in the comments lately, basically what happened with the No Mas blog in the last few weeks is that Blogger stopped working for us. We've had little glitches with that in the past but this was a different thing entirely - this was wholesale nuclear war. We couldn't post anything, comments weren't updating on the main page, and we couldn't republish in any way so we couldn't get ourselves onto another blog client. Things didn't start to clear up until recently, although as I pointed out even that has been hit-miss.
But we're coming back strong, hopefully in the next two weeks. If Blogger lets me post regularly, I'll start getting us back up to speed ASAP, but if not, we'll have to wait until we are safely over at Wordpress, at which point the No Mas guns will be blazing once again, just in time to get you a review of that new David Mamet MMA movie that looks so freakin awesomely bad.
To tide you over, here's a recent piece of mine from over at The Sporting Blog about Iron Mike's recent appearance on E60.
Tyson in Repose (The Sporting Blog)
Soccer, fútbol, football, call it what you will, in England the game is much more than sport. It’s English society’s central cultural touchstone. It’s more important that the weather, more tabloid than the Royal Family, and dare I say it, bigger than beer. Yes, even the merits of real ale pales in comparison to which WAG has the most prominent lingerie endorsement deal.
Upon arriving at Heathrow Airport on Wednesday morning I was greeted at passport control by a large sign with a hint of Orwellian menace that read: “UK BORDER.” It should say: LAND OF FOOTBALL.” Having stopped for a cuppa at a local breakfast café, a quick glance at the telly told me that I was not in Kansas anymore. There was Sir Alex Ferguson putting his men through their paces on the training ground ahead of the return leg of Manchester United’s UEFA Champions League quarterfinal clash with Roma. The scroll at the bottom of the screen told me that Liverpool had thumped Arsenal the night before to advance to their usual Champions League semifinal berth, (or as the headline in one of the tab rags put it: “Red and Buried.”)
But these days in dear old Blighty, footie is not confined to the pitch and the sports pages. It’s the coin of the realm. You simply can’t escape it.
Sky television is promoting its upcoming programming as “The Heroes Season.” Brad Pitt in full Babel break down dissolves to Oscar winner Dame Judy Dench, who in turn becomes Sir Winston Churchill. And just as I was thinking that ranking Churchill third to Angelina Jolie’s partner was a bad sign of the times, up popped Wayne Rooney. Now as every baby does looks like Churchill, perhaps finding one of the few adults to resemble the wartime Prime Minister was a clever ploy. But does that merit hero status alongside Hollywood heartthrobs, West End legends, and the man who urged the nation to fight Hitler on the beaches? Granted, Rooney will have more time to spend on the beach this summer than originally anticipated, but again the Churchill connection is tenuous at best. If only England’s footballers were as good as the ever-present PR machine that hypes up the volume on them to eleven.
The last true English world-class goal scorer is at The Masters this week. Gary Lineker is hosting BBC coverage of the first golf major of the year. I’ve no idea about his putting, but if any golfers need tips on coming through in the clutch, they should interview him. I’ve always thought that the Beeb’s man in Augusta has not received the credit his outstanding career deserves. I would have him starting in my all-time England XI ahead of Jimmy Greaves, Alan Shearer and Stan Mortensen. Sure he’s had plenty of plaudits over the years, but he was the leading scorer at the 1986 FIFA World Cup, and scored England’s two most clutch penalty kicks in history against Cameroon at Italia’90. (There have been plenty of other clutch penalty kicks for England, but players who didn’t have Lineker’s bottle muffed the moment and waited for their agents to get them pizza commercials.) Lets face it, if Trevor Brooking and Geoff Hurst have knighthoods, then Lineker should be Lord Leicester by now. Perhaps like the late, great Paul Scofield, Lineker doesn’t want HRH to dub her sword on his shoulders. I wouldn’t know. But he seemed pretty happy on Friday, trying not to clash with Ian Poulter’s hot pink trousers.
Talking of Knights errant. One man in his element in the ancient isle at the moment is former Tottenham Hotspur honcho, Sir Alan Sugar. In the British version of “The Apprentice,” he plays Donald Trump. And if the ratings are anything to go by, he’s not about to be fired, as the show is one of the most popular in the country and not even contemplating a celebrity “jump the shark” edition.
It’s been a sour time for Fulham chairman Mohamed Al Fayed of late though. After sounding off recently in yet another Princess Diana death inquest, the Harrod’s owner gave a vote of confidence to Cottagers boss Roy Hodgson this week. The always-jingoistic British press seems incapable of giving the grief stricken father a mulligan, and greeted the Harrod’s owners statement with the headline: “Fulham On The Brink.”
In the Land of Football someone is always on the brink of something. Manchester United on winning the EPL, Chelsea on signing Gareth Barry, and WAG lingerie model Abbey Clancy on marrying Peter Crouch. Which happy event will receive the most prominence in the British press? Do you really need to ask?
There's been a bit of a lull for fight fans since the amazing trifecta of FOY candidates in March (Vazquez/Marquez III, Pacquiao/Marquez II and Casamayor/Katsidis) but that all ends tomorrow night with FOUR title fights. All of these fights have interesting consequences for future bouts, making it a banner night for fistic enthusiasts everywhere, and quite an appetizer indeed for the Calzaghe/Hopkins mega-fight next week. So, ah, let's get right into it:
Miguel Cotto v. Alfonso Gomez
It is what it is. You know when Vegas has a stoppage at about -200 that you are looking at a one sorryass mismatch, and that's what you have here. The odds on Cotto by stoppage is 5/11, and even that seems a bit conservative to me. Yes, Gomez beat Arturo Gatti, but come on - Gatti is a shadow of his former shadow (if Gatti shadowboxed with his shadow from 1997, his shadow would knock him out in 5). This is still the same Alfons Gomez who boasts a loss to Peter Manfredo on his record, and a draw to Jesse Feliciano, the same Jesse Feliciano that Kermit Cintron stopped in November. So, you know, by the commutative property, what do you think Cotto does to Cintron right now. I say he knocks his ass out in under 8. Cotto is suffering through some Money May-like drama with his uncle/trainer Evangelista Cotto, but he's just not the kind of dude to let that get in his head. In that Cotto is a 15-1 favorite right now, about the only way to make money on this thing is to bet the under on rounds at 9 1/2 at -150. Seems like a very safe bet to me unless Cotto breaks a hand or something.
Antonio Margarito v. Kermit Cintron
I watched the first fight between these guys a few days ago, and I was again struck by what a sorry showing it was for Cintron. If you've never seen it, the video of the conclusion is below, a 5th-round stoppage in which Cintron effectively gave up. The hardest thing for him to swallow afterwards must have been realizing how in the fight he was when he started to lose his cool around the third round. Margarito frequently has assessed this fight by saying that as soon as Cintron caught him a few times with his right hand and saw that they didn't faze Tony at all, it was over. And on a second viewing, that's pretty much how it looks to me. Cintron suffers a nasty cut in the fourth, but even before the cut he looks like he's out of it, like he's given up.
Many questioned Kermit's mettle after this fight, but I think he answered that doubt with his heroic throwdown with David Estrada in 2006. Myself, I've always liked Cintron and I think he's a very talented guy who found himself psychologically defeated by Margarito in their first go-round. But now Cintron knows that he's not going to knock Margarito out with his straight rights, no matter how flush he connects (Margarito is a Carlos Baldomir-level of hardhead who has never been KO'ed) and he's also working with Manny Steward, who no doubt is preparing Cintron to win this thing by decision. And I think he has what it takes to do that. He has a speed edge and he's an accurate puncher. Margarito starts slowly and I could see this going very similarly to his bout with Paul Williams - where Tony comes on late and just runs out of time to make up for a points-deficit. On that score, it may all come down to Cintron's conditioning, because Margarito is definitely an insistent fighter who won't go anywhere over the course of a 12-rounder. But I like Cintron to hang on in this one. He'd got the skills and more importantly he's got the experience to know what it takes to beat Margarito. On the whole I think he's the superior athlete, and if he sticks to what I imagine should be his gameplan, I see him getting a close decision.
Clinton Woods v. Antonio Tarver
The ante was upped considerably on this bout earlier in the week with the news that much-anticipated Clinton Woods/Joe Calzaghe bout is in the works, provided of course that Woods beats Tarver and Calzaghe beat Bernard Hopkins next week. I like both of their chances, but honestly, I'm feeling better about Woods than Calzaghe, though I base that more on Tarver's condition rather than Woods' prowess. I simply think that Tarver is shot, pasychologically and physically. I certainly don't see him having enough pop left to knock Woods out. I mean, Clinton Woods is one rugged son of a bitch. Anybody out there remember the beating he took from Roy Jones in 2002? Let me take you back...
Yes, Roy tarred and feathered him, but that was pre-Ruiz Roy at 175. He tarred and feathered everyone back then. The point to me is that after a full round of Roy's punishing razzle-dazzle, on that last haymaker that he lands on Woods before Woods' cornermen throw in the towel, Clinton points to his chin in true Jake LaMotta fashion. "Do it again, mate, go on..." And yes, yes, that was six years ago, but the fact remains - given what we've seen of Tarver lately, there is just no way he's going to knock out Clinton Woods (who has never been stopped by anyone but Jones). I honestly think it's more likely that Woods stops Tarver. Maybe there's some magic left in the Magic Man, but I'd be very surprised to see him pull a winner out of his hat. I see Antonio gettting the better of the action early but without hurting his man. Then I see him wearing down quickly, and barely making it to the finish. With a huge all-British megafight with Calzaghe in the offing, I think Tarver would have to kill Clinton Woods to win this one, and he just doesn't have the ammo anymore.
Chad Dawson v. Glen Johnson
2008 already has seen a fair share of older fighters schooling highly touted younger ones - Carlos Quintana over Paul Williams, Nate Cambpell over Juan Diaz, Joel Casamayor over Michael Katsidis. So the question is, does Glen Johnson have enough left in the tank to add his name to that list? Is Chad Dawson as good as we think he is? It's not that I think that Dawson is over-rated necessarily, but I will say this - his record doesn't look as solid to me as Juan Diaz's did at lightweight. But is Glen Johnson capable of going all Nate Campbell in there? Doubtful, admittedly. But look, with the way this year is going, anything seems possible, and at +275, Johnson is definitely an interesting longshot.
(For more Largination, check out my weekly boxing notes over at the new and improved Sporting Blog. I give some more thoughts on tomorrow night and discuss the demise of The Contender on ESPN.)
I realize that with the way I've been neglecting my No Masian duties of late that I may be barking up the wrong tree here, but I'm going to give it a shot anyway and alert you all to the fact that I have a new piece up at Slate today. It's about Ian O'Connor's new book Arnie and Jack and the way in which the legendary Palmer/Nicklaus rivalry informs the way we see Tiger Woods today.
Tiger vs. Nobody (slate.com)
As I'm sure most dedicated No Masians have noticed, I'm struggling to maintain the blog these days because I'm buried with writing work (oh look Liverpool scored, lovely goal innit) that makes it very tough for me to file my regular posts here on the Mas. I apologize, and I ask you to bear with me, because it's doesn't look like it's going to get much better in the next few weeks. The wife and I are moving, and you know how that is. We're traveling into the land of the one and only Electric Zarko, with whom I recently caught a Warriors game. (Yes, I admit it, the Warriors are severely challenging my Sixers loyalty, although to be fair, we all know where the Warriors are really from.)
I do plan to get my customary fight previews up this week, especially now that the tourney is mercifully over and some marquee fighters are stepping back into the ring. I'll leave you with that promise and with one observation on last night's NCAA Final - what the HELL is Roy Williams doing on the halftime show in a Kansas Jayhawks sweater? Yeah, yeah, I know, fifteen years, whatever. You think if Texas Tech got stomped by Indiana that Bob Knight shows up at the final sporting some Indiana gear? No fucking way.
Also let me add here some links to a few of my pieces over at The Sporting Blog and a little tidbit from my weekly boxing notes post which didn't run over there due to the glut of college basketball nonsense clogging up the airwaves:
Another No-Go Fo’ Lorenzo?
The title of the most-ducked fighter in boxing has become something of an unofficial honor in the sport, and not one that is particularly sought after either, much like the BPNTHWM (Best Player Never to Have Won a Major) award in golf (speaking of which, who is that now? Sergio?).In the past few months, Dominican middleweight Giovanni Lorenzo has made quite a name for himself by not being able to get a big-name opponent for himself, despite the fact that he is currently both the IBF and the WBC mandatory opponent for both the belt-holders. First it was the WBC champ, Kelly Pavlik, who after floating the idea of fighting Lorenzo decided on a decidedly softer touch, Welshman Gary Lockett. Now it’s IBF titlist Arthur Abraham, who appeared to be a lock to fight Lorenzo this summer but who now is evidently talking to Edison Miranda about a June rematch of their 2006 classic. All I can say to that is, if you’re looking to duck a fight with someone by TAKING a fight with Edison Miranda, well, that someone you’re ducking must be some kind of someone. Although one imagines that dead presidents enter into the equation somewhere as well, as they are wont to do.
Heston Did It All (The Sporting Blog)
Worst. Final Four. Ever. (The Sporting Blog)
Second legs of the quarter finals Tuesday and Wednesday to see if the Premiership sends three contenders to the semis. Some of last week's game were real shockers and some were more boring than any we've seen in recent memory. Some managers, and not just Benitez or Grant, will have to save their seats tonight by winning no matter what.
LIVERPOOL - ARSENAL
Let's call this Episode III. After two matches at Arsenal's stomping ground of the Emirates Stadium both ending in a 1-1 draw, Anfield will offer a nice epilogue to this whole affair. After last week's spectacular game tainted by partisan refereeing in Liverpool's favor (even though we were in London), Arsenal will have to come out with guns blazing since they conceded the home goal that could cost them the qualification. Liverpool are unsurprisingly favorites after going through the same situation in 2005 against Chelsea. Rafael Benitez will need all of Anfield to be with him on this one as The gunners have no other choice but to win and are not really efficient at defending anyway. The only differences with this weekend's game is that Steven Gerrard will surely be starting alongside Fernando Torres. As for El Niño's right partner, Benitez can always choose between Dirk Kuyt who scored the equalizer last week or Peter Crouch who did the same this weekend.
My bill is still on Arsenal but Liverpool have been monstruous at this stage of the compettion in the last five years. A match to watch for sure.
CHELSEA - FENERBAHCE
The Award for Newcomer of the Year sure goes to Fenerbahçe. Ok Schalke could deserve it but the Turkish side has been unbeatable at home and lived up to their expectations away. Counting Roberto Carlos, Mateja Kezman and London-born Turkish international Kazim Kazim who singlehandedly put Chelsea on their knees during last week's bout's second-half. Zico's boys don't fear anyone and don't have any reason to.
Chelsea is still miles above them on paper but Avram Grant's players know well that this could be their last game in the competition. They were lucky enough to have scored an away goal but that's it. They were far from their normal level and underestimated their teammates. Add that to the fact that Petr Cech is still not recovered and this is smelling like one of those surprises that is supposed to happen every year. If Fenerbahçe go through, after having eliminated Sevilla and Chelsea, we couldn't call them an underdog anymore.
Tommorow, Manchester United and Barcelona, two teams that have won away games will be welcoming teams that could take them out as well. None of those superpowers (well truthfully Barcelona seems more safe than Manchester, even after their game against Getafe this Sunday) can afford to play with a B team tomorrow.
(Baggiesboy, ever the exotic bon vivant of football, files his post today from that metropolis of modern soccer... East Rutherford, New Jersey. -L)
A room with a view is the hotel guest’s common request. But there are views and then there are views. For every ocean vista, klieg-light-lit landmark, and alpine pasture bathed in moonlight, there is the airport hotel panorama. From my current 15th floor perch I have a view of Giants Stadium, along with clogged transportation arteries, both on the ground and in the air.
Opening Day is in the air here as well. After a rain delay on Monday, “Play Ball” echoed around Yankee Stadium on Tuesday. Mr. Met emerges from his winter hibernation next week. (Here’s a little known fact: when Mr. Met sees his shadow at the Shea home opener, the Mets make the playoffs.) And this Saturday, the most exciting prospect in the history of Major League Soccer takes to the field across the street from my temporary aerie in the season opener for the Red Bulls. Yes, Jozy Altidore is that good.
My criteria for assessing a players’ skill is simple: would I buy a ticket to watch him or her play? In the case of Altidore, the answer is a resounding yes. He’s big, fast, intimidating and has the happy knack of scoring goals from all angles. He also has an infectious joy for the game. This kid loves soccer, and it shows.
In another age, when “a fine lady upon a white horse” was the only person who had music wherever she went, Pelé was spreading love in these parts. But those halcyon days are long gone. During the MetroStars/Red Bulls 13-year run in Sopranos country there has not been much joy in “Swampville.” American soccer renegade Clint Mathis scored the 2001 MLS Goal of the Season, Senegal’s vowel laden striker Mamadou Diallo produced a four-goal game, and the inspirational Tim Howard regularly displayed reflexes worthy of his then Meadowlands Sports Complex NHL counterpart Martin Brodeur before moving to the Premiership.
Granted there was Bulgaria’s Jordan Letchkov scoring a late goal to knock Germany out of the 1994 World Cup. A moment of bliss that should have served as a hint to Lothar Matthaus that perhaps East Rutherford was not the place for him (then again, perhaps he was getting mixed signals having scored Germany’s lone goal in that game.) Of course, Matthaus isn’t the only World Cup winner to grace the cavernous Giants Stadium locker rooms with his presence. Frenchman Youri Djorkaeff swapped the charms of Bolton, Lancashire for the Soccer Eden of the Garden State. He didn’t come close to leading either the MetroStars or the Red Bulls to MLS Cup nirvana. Of course, every MetroBull artist from Joe Addo to Craig Ziadie shares that distinction as well.
But perhaps this year it will be different. With a new coach, Juan Carlos Osorio, on the bench (the franchise’s 11th head coach, which although it might match the number of players on the field seems excessive when considering that Joe Girardi is only the second Yankees manager in the same period), the Red Bulls have the best strike tandem in MLS. Juan Pablo Angel scored 19 goals in 24 games last season and seems motivated to meet that standard again.
And then there's Altidore, the face of the franchise. He is featured on a series of billboards around Manhattan, as well as the cover of the North American version of EA Sports FIFA08. Throw in his Adidas commercial, and it's clear that the teenager is well on the road to sharing a priceless advertising moment with the aforementioned Pelé. Of course, Altidore’s prospective U.S. Olympic teammate Freddy Adu already has pitched with Pelé, but he doesn’t have anywhere near Altidore's game. Yes, he has plenty of moves but no pace, no acceleration and even less sense of teamwork. His success had been limited to age-restricted tournaments. Altidore has already made his mark among the big boys.
In 2006, his arrival sparked the Red Bulls to a late playoffs surge. Last year, he scored 9 MLS goals and soaked up information from a professional goal scorer in Angel. A quick payoff for that season's long tutorial came in February with his first goal for the U.S. national team: a classic power header, scored against arch-rival Mexico. Only the top strikers put those away.
Needless to say, rumors of his imminent departure are rife, which would be a huge mistake for MLS, the Red Bulls and the player himself. If the team’s eponymous Austrian owners can invest in Oscar Echeverry then they can energize American soccer by signing the country’s best young player through the 2010 FIFA World Cup.
From where I’m sitting you can’t see a Red Bull sign (or any sign that Saturday is the team’s season kickoff), but a new stadium is on the way. The Red Bulls have been flying under the radar in the Newark flight path for too long. But this season, starting on Saturday against Columbus, Altidore can give the Red Bulls wings.
Manchester United played like they were the Italian side yesterday, not dominating the game but being realistic to a fault, and scoring two away goals that may be two too many for Roma to come back at Old Trafford next week. The Romans should be mad at themselves - they could have, and should have, scored. We'll see if Totti's returning or not next week. If not, Manchester can send in their B team. As for Barcelona, how the mighty have fallen! Sure they won at Schalke but without Jermaine Jones and with the many missed chances by Kuranyi, Schalke could very well create a surprise at Camp Nou. I haven't seen Barcelona look so mortal in a long while. Now for tonight's games.
ARSENAL-LIVERPOOL
These two Premiership sides will face each other three times in the next week in a series of matches that will decide if their seasons are successes or failures. For Rafaël Benitez, it goes even deeper - the Reds boss could lose his job if he doesn't bring back a trophy to Anfield. As for arsenal, they seem to have gotten some of their values back after this weekend's game against Bolton. They were one man down but still managed to make up a two goal difference and win the game. The two English teams had to go and take their tickets in the same stadium, Giuzzeppe Meazza/San Siro against Inter and AC Milan. Their destines seem to be tied this season.
So in the first of the three bouts in the days to come, the only questions will be weather or not Mascherano will be fit enough to play and if Emmanuel Eboué will be playing. These two teams know each other too well. Which may just mean that it will be boring as fuck. There's a slight edge for Liverpool who have impressive statistics in this competition and a striker on fire in Fernando Torres. El Nino is showing any doubters that this summer could be belong to him and Spain.
FENERBAHCE - CHELSEA
Fenerbahçe are in the same position as Schalke. This is their first time at this stage of the competition and they seem to be very serious outsiders. Realistically, I don't see how Chelsea could lose this one. The Blues may start with Nicolas Anelka, an ex-Fenerbahçe player himself and still a fan favourite over there. As for Fenerbahçe, their striker, Mateja Kezman was popular at Stamford Bridge, despite abysmal numbers. Chelsea has an edge and in their second trip to the Bosphore (the first was when they faced Olympiacos), they should come out and try to qualify there. They have the means and Fenerbahçe is having some problems in defense. Granted their force lays up top with forwards fast enough to score against anybody. Let's hope that Petr Cech's replacement Carlo Cudicini is focused enough and Avram Grant's players are able to play in serenity in London next week.
Folks, I'm sorry I've been away from my post for the past few days, but what with the mini boxing vacation and some work piling up on my end, I had to shut down operations for a few days.
But the No Mas train is rolling once again today, as you'll see below with one of Madsear's patented Champions League previews. Also, I'm hoping that you'll check out something that I was working on diligently in my No Masian absence, my debut article over at Slate.com, a long piece about Money May's WWE debacle and the way he's been going about his business in the past year or so.
Grappling with History (slate.com)
(All hail the return of Madsear! I'm telling you with Baggiesboy and Mr. Mad up front, we have a terrible twosome of strikers on the No Mas side. That's right, mates, I'm the manager of this squad and I play the 4-4-2. Madsear and the Bag, lemme tell you something, they may not be the quickest front pair you've ever seen, but they're both linebacker-size and mean as all hell. If I were you? I'd just let them score. Now on with the CL... - L)
Here they are, the quarterfinals. And just like last year, we have the four English (let's say the four Premiership) powerhouses facing some continental sides. Let's start with tomorrow night's matches, the first one between AS Roma and Manchester United and the second between Schalke and Barcelona.
AS ROMA - MANCHESTER UNITED (2.30Pm @ ESPN2)This looks like a classic. These two teams have met four times in the last year (who could forget the 7-1 humiliation sustained by the Romans at Old Trafford last year). After having eliminated Real Madrid in what may have been the match of the year, Luciano Spaletti's team are hoping to pull the same prank on Sir Alex's boys on April Fools Day. A few hours ago, during the press conference, Spaletti hailed Manchester as "the best team in the world, certainly the best team I have seen in the last decade." Okay Luciano, stop the buttlicking right now - your team is nothing to sneeze at. Sure, the big surprise would be to see ManYoo not win the Champions League this year, given how they've already dominated their opponents during the group stages. Manchester is the favorite and deservedly so. But AS Roma is special. They are the only team in Europe playing like one. They have stars, many of them. Some people, yours truly included, believe Francesco Totti to be, on a good day, the best player in the World (I've said the same about Zlatan Ibrahimovic and it's still true). Roma plays the most beautiful game second only to... well, Manchester. Which is why tomorrow night's battle is sure to be interesting. On one of the largest pitches in Europe, two of the faster teams going at it. Something nobody should miss.
Manchester should win because their ace, Cristiano Ronaldo, is playing the best football of his life (and that's saying something), scoring his 35th goal of the season last Saturday. Add that to the fact that the "Cappo di tutti Cappi", Francesco Totti has been injured in Cagliari and may not be playing the home bout and you could bet safely on the Red Devils. I'm still thinking, however, that a draw is possible for Roma, if not more.
SCHALKE 04 - BARCELONA
It is now official! The Fantastic 4 experiment at Barcelona is a failure. They only played two games together and they're done - Leo Messi is injured, Thierry Henry is saving his back for this summer's Euros, Ronaldinho may be sold somewhere in the Premiership, while Samuel Eto'o is the only player looking like his old self lately. Juan Laporta took a chance and failed miserably. The only way for Frank Rijkaard to keep his job during the summer and prevent "The Special One" from coming back to Bernabeu would be to win the Champions League. Only problem is, it's not looking too good these days on the Barcelona side. Losing to lowly Real Betis is not exactly the best way to prepare for such a rendez-vous, especially if you lose Samuel Eto'o in the process.
The good news for Barça is that Rafael Marquez (really? he's playing? shit I would have thought he'd still be resting - L) and Gabi Milito are reporting for duty. Given how bad their defense has been lately that's more than good news. The other good news is that their opponent is just Schalke 04.
The German side has never been this high in the competition and are already giving The Humble Speech. Slomka is smart enough not to put any pressure on his boys but he knows full well that if they want to beat Barcelona, this is it. They can surprise some people with their midfield. If Rakitic and Jones are playing, they can be as good if not better than the Toure/Iniesta pairing that has not been working perfectly these days, with Yaya Touré working overtime to cover for Xavi and/or Andres.
Schalke are not well known and it's a shame, but Barcelona very well could meet with another surprise if they're not focused and play like they did this Saturday past.
(He's back, and he means business. Our secret soccer agent Baggiesboy files his report this week from God-knows-where, with his mind on his Beckham and Beckham on his mind. -L)And then there were five. Yes, after journeying thousands and thousands of miles, giving interviews galore and refining the stump speech countless times, the unstinting campaign to win David Beckham his 100th England cap ended in Paris, France on Wednesday evening. Vive Le Becks! Billy Wright, Bobby Charlton, Bobby Moore and Peter Shilton are the other distinguished members of the England Centurion Club. But none of them stage-managed their triple-digit cap fanfare like the MLS man.
The coronation, of course, came earlier on Sunday. In a metro-sexual moment for the ages, the new Centurion showed Anderson Cooper how to bend the ball 180 on 60 Minutes. Or as The Huffington Post headline so deliciously put it: “Anderson Cooper plays with David Beckham on 60 Minutes.” If it wasn’t yellow-card disturbing enough to watch CNN’s intrepid “anything for ratings” anchor moonlighting on CBS and doing 360s along the goal line to prevent old Goldenballs from scoring on pseudo-free kicks, then there was the tattoo tour. That was a straight red card. In this new era of respecting officialdom dear reader, I’ll brook no arguments on this one. I have nothing against ink. I just don’t want to see it while I’m chomping on my last chocolate Easter bunny.
Apparently the latest Chinese proverb engraved inky prick by inky prick on the Beckham body beautiful translates as: “Death and life have determined appointments. Riches and honor depend upon heaven.” So, there you have it. Gloria Vanderbilt’s silver-haired little lad did point out (while playing with Beckham), that the Englishman has accrued financial riches second only to Tiger Woods among today’s athletes. There has to be a Chinese proverb to put that in perspective, but I remain confused while waiting for Confucian enlightenment.
Lets face it, Brand Beckham is built on the success of a Hollywood movie he had little or no involvement in, not “Woodsian” dominance of the soccer field. Beckham is a fine player who is deserving of his 100 caps. He has carved a permanent niche in soccer history by becoming the game’s first specialist player. He does two things as well as anyone who has ever played the game: provide dangerous crosses from the right wing, and score highlight reel worthy free-kick goals. But he is far from the only one with these powers. Gun to your head: Beckham or Cristiano Ronaldo on your all-time Manchester United XI? Granted memories are short, but I doubt many pundits would pick Beckham.
The Katie Couric replacement-anchor-in-waiting told America on Sunday that “performing under pressure” is what Beckham is all about. Hem… guess no 60 Minutes producers were in Portugal in the summer of 2004. The last England player to perform under pressure was Gary Lineker at the 1990 FIFA World Cup against Cameroon. He also put away his penalty in the semifinal shootout against die Deutsch Nationalmanschaft.
Beckham is not the only member of the England Centurion Club to discover that “soccer is a kick in the grass.” Bobby Moore played for a fistful of dollars with the San Antonio Thunder and the Seattle Sounders in the old NASL. The World Cup-winning captain didn’t generate anything remotely close to the Beckham publicity or dollar grosses (or get to play with Anderson Cooper for that matter). And while Beckham’s desire to win 100 caps for England is all about football glory, his American sojourn still looks too much like a money grab. I’m sure no one at MLS HQ was too thrilled to hear Super Cooper announce that Beckham had come to America to play for a “little known soccer team called the LA Galaxy.” Ouch! Of course, while that little known 2-time MLS Cup winner is preparing for the new season (the Galaxy kick off in Colorado this Saturday night), its multi-million dollar man was taking time out from the Home Depot Center locker-room banter he claims to love so much to head to the City of Light. (Last week, he jetted to New York in the middle of the week to present an award to Pelé at the FC Harlem fundraiser.)
Number 23 might have a clause that allows him first dibs on a new MLS franchise, but its time he starting taking care of business with the team that he already runs. I’ve no doubt that 19Entertainment are already planning the knighthood campaign. But there is an MLS campaign at hand, and if Beckham wants to cap his career with more than numbers and dollars then he should emulate his uncoordinated 60 Minutes training partner and start giving MLS and the Galaxy the full 360 treatment for 365, 24/7.
I'm in San Francisco this week with Mrs. Large and my folks, and last night we went to this Italian place in North Beach called Trattoria Contadina. It was one of those pictures-of-celebrities-on-the-wall type places, all the usual suspects, Deano, Lena Horne, Cosby (I swear to God, Cosby has eaten in every restaurant in the U.S.). But it was the above row of autographed shots that caught my eye, particularly the arrangement. You got a great lambchop shot of Joe Morgan, a young McCovey, Charlie Hustle, a very young Johnny Bench, and then... AND THEN... over on the far left sits none other than the great Carl "Bobo" Olson, a middleweight title-holder of the mid-50's who fought most of his career out of S.F. Olson is best remembered for having fought Sugar Ray Robinson four times, losing all four, three by KO. But Olson fought most of the greats of his era, and once beat Randy Turpin, Kid Gavilan and Rocky Castellani in the space of a single year.
In the dream infield above, however, it seems that Olson would be forced to play shortstop. Maybe the Trattoria Contadina knows something about ole Bobo that we don't.
Ninety-two years ago today, at the second iteration of Madison Square Garden, heavyweight champion Jess Willard (pictured right) made his first title defense, a lackluster 10-round bout with Frank Moran that went the distance and ended, as the contract stipulated, with no decision being rendered. Most reporters at ringside had Willard winning every round, and of course the champion kept his title.
Jess Willard, "The Pottawatomie Giant," is famous today for only two fights, defeating Jack Johnson for the heavyweight crown in 1915 and then losing it to Jack Dempsey in 1919. In this way, Willard's reign is somewhat akin to that of Larry Holmes, in that he is largely forgotten by history for having succeeded a legendarily flamboyant champion and preceded a legendarily vicious one.
It's a nice comparison on paper, but it doesn't hold up much beyond the words I wrote above. In fact it's tremendously unfair to Holmes, who was an outstanding and unfairly undermined heavyweight champ where Willard was something of a sideshow, a lumbering giant with little actual boxing ability. The bout that Willard fought with Frank Moran (known as "The Fighting Dentist," pictured left ) on March 25th, 1916 is less notable as a heavyweight title fight than it is as the first promotion that Tex Rickard ever made in New York. Rickard would go on to become boxing's P.T. Barnum with Madison Square Garden his personal circus, so much so that the third Garden became known as "The House That Tex Built."
Amazingly, there is footage of the Willard/Moran fight, which I present to you below. It's uneventful, although interesting just to see the stand-up style of the times in action. Also, you have to hand it to the Dentist. Overmatched in just about every way, he's still swinging for the fences in there.
God does boxing need a heavyweight right now, a big guy with a big punch who can capture people's imagination. That's all I could think last night as I was watching that mind-blowing lineal lightweight title bout between Joel Casamyor and Michael Katsidis in which Casamayor triumphed in a back-and-forth battle with a stunning 10th-round stoppage.
There have been three FOY-quality fights in the last three weeks - Vasquez/Marquez III, Pacquiao/Marquez II and now Casamayor/Katsidis. The sweet science is so chock-full of electrifying fights and marquee match-ups right now that it's hard for me to think of a better time to be a fight fan in recent memory.
And yet the bitter taste of the Klitschko/Ibragimov debacle still lingers, and the fact of the matter is this - as the heavyweights go, so goes the sport in mainstream culture. Devoid of a heavyweight star, boxing remains condemned to the back of the sports pages, if it makes the sports pages at all, and depends on the ongoing Money May sideshow and the glorified exhibitions of a superstar past his prime to garner headlines.
Well, so be it. Enough of my belly-aching. We die-hards are on a hell of a run right now and we should enjoy it while it lasts.
On the matter of Casa/Katsidis, let me begin with a personal note and offer my sincere thanks to Andy Lee. I won myself a nice piece of change betting on Casamayor last night, and I placed my bet almost immediately after Lee got stopped on Friday Night Fights. I looked at the odds (Casamayor +185 at the time) and I thought about Andy Lee and then I thought about Katsidis, and I said to myself, "who the hell has Michael Katsidis ever beaten that he's almost a 2-1 favorite over a guy who twice beat Chico Corrales and took Castillo the distance in a war?" Yes, Casamayor is 36, and yes he looked very bad in his last fight and deserved to lose it on the scorecards, but still, didn't Nate Campbell recently show us what a determined and crafty old vet can to do to an over-eager up-and-comer if he sets his mind to it?
So I laid down my money, and I felt very good about my wager. And then when Casa put Katsidis down twice in the first round, well, I felt like French kissing myself. Exactly, I thought. Another over-hyped white boy about to get exposed in front of a national television audience.
Of course, it didn't turn out that way, not by a longshot. After getting dropped by two of Casamayor's pinpoint straight lefts in the first, Katsidis settled himself, made a few key adjustments (slip right against a lefty, Mike) and went to war. He lost a 10-7 round in the first, and then I had him losing both the second and third, but despite being swollen and bloodied and an all-around mess, he turned the tide in the fourth with relentless pressure and a damn-the-torpedoes brawling style. In the fifth, his swarming tactics seemed to be taking a heavy toll on Casamayor's 36-year-old legs, and then in the sixth Katsidis very nearly earned the stoppage after sending the crafty Cuban through the ropes in the middle of the round.
At that point, Casa's craftiness was quite literally all he had to work with in there, but he used it to great advantage, clinching his way through a very dicey sixth and then getting on his bicycle to stabilize himself in the seventh. Katsidis might have been able to get him at that point if he'd had the wind, but he clearly had punched himself out with his sixth-round onslaught and a valuable opportunity was lost.
With his legs back, Casamayor won both the eighth and ninth to my eyes, boxing with the elusive in-and-out precision of his prime. Come the tenth, it seemed like Katsidis felt his advantage slipping away from him, and in true warrior fashion he resolved to double his efforts and regain the momentum with another onslaught of pressure and output.
That resolution, however, courageous though it was, cost him the biggest win of his life. Fools rush in where angels... don't lead with their heads. Lunging at Casa from the opening bell of the 10th with go-for-broke haymakers, Katsidis dove right into a mighty left hand and his brain promptly exited the building. He made it to his feet on auto-pilot and the ref wisely stepped in soon after that, with only Max Kellerman (more a one-man Michael Katsidis fan-club than an announcer last night) protesting the stoppage.
You really can't ask much more from a fight - slick-boxing veteran and proud young brawler, a shifting narrative that saw both fighters get up off the canvas and seize back the momentum with a strategic adjustment, all topped off with a late-round full-throttle concussification that left absolutely no question about the outcome. It was an instant classic, and yet it says all there is to be said about the quality of the fights that took place this past month when I write that right now I probably have Casamayor/Katsidis third (or maybe tied for second, I have to think about this...) in the Fight of the Year sweepstakes.
And people, Jesus, it's only March.
Man the hits just keep on coming. Two fights like Vasquez/Marquez and Pacquiao/Marquez in the space of two weeks, and now the demise of the Andy Lee juggernaut on Friday Night Fights. I have to say, I get almost more excited by these kinds of bouts than I do the big PPV affairs, these bouts where a young highly-touted prospect gets exposed by some hard-head who doesn't seem to have gotten his copy of the script.
If you didn't watch FNF last night, then you missed a corker - Manny Steward's prized charge, the big-punching Irish southpaw Andy Lee, getting stopped by Contender vet Brian Vera in the seventh-round of an all-out slugfest. Lee knocked Vera down in the first round, but even then he didn't seem to me to be in control of the fight, although credit must be given on that score to Vera's chin, because he took a load of clean straight lefts right down the pike and ate them like a man's man.
And the chins really proved the difference in the fight, because what emerged early on as a pattern of exchange was Vera taking Lee's left to counter with big roundhouse rights, and in those exchanges it was Vera's and not Lee's punches that took a heavy toll. As early as the fourth I started to feel the upset on the way, as it became more and more clear that the Irish prospect's vaunted power simply wasn't enough to stop the hard-charging Vera from getting inside and roughing him up. On that count, Lee proved virtually incompetent, unable to clinch effectively and clueless as to how to handle himself in close quarters. In the fifth, his legs started to go, and then the fight became an all-out war, Lee's left, Vera's right, lather rinse repeat, and suddenly what was supposed to be a walkover was shaping up as an FOY candidate. With sheer determination, Vera seized the upper hand in the fifth and took it with him into the sixth, when he wobbled Lee with one of his big wide rights and the chase was on. Bleeding badly from an eye-cut and staggering backwards around the ring, Lee was just target practice for Vera in the seventh, and that's when the ref put an end to it, a bit prematurely no doubt (on the punch from Vera that sealed the stoppage Lee was firing back a left-hand counter just as the ref stepped in), but I had some sympathy for the referee in that situation, because for the entire minute beforehand Vera had landed one haymaker after another, almost all of them unanswered. The ref probably was at that point where he was thinking, "all right, one more of those and I'm stepping in," and then that one more comes and that's the one that Lee fires back on.
It didn't look good, but hey, if Manny Steward wasn't complaining, you know it wasn't that bad, because if the stoppage really had been unjust Manny would have been going nuts. What a tough night for Steward. He's been talking this kid up so relentlessly this year, talking about him fighting Winky before the year was out, talking about how he could beat Kelly Pavlik right now. Those are some awfully big words to have to eat, and yet you have to feel like he deserves to eat them with relish after having the audacity to flap his gums so hard about a kid so woefully inexperienced and unskilled as Lee proved himself to be last night. Manny has never been one to shy away from talking very big about his fighters, but in this case, it seems like he should have known better.
Of course, all credit goes to Brian Vera, the only person in the building last night who hadn't read too many of Andy Lee's press clippings. And besides Manny and Lee himself, there were two other big losers of note - Irish boxing, having to suffer yet another highly touted native fighter getting exposed on a very big American stage (following John Duddy's disaster against Walid Smichet on the Klitschko/Ibragimov undercard) and Bob Arum, who recently signed Lee to a big promotional deal. Right now, it seems like he bought himself a lemon.
I did an interview with Franchise today over at Jarry Park. We talked a lot of WWE, segued into the Pacquiao/Marquez controversy and went on to talk about the fate of Ricky Hatton, the promise of David Haye, Andy Lee's appearance on FNF tonight and looking forward to Bernard/Calzaghe.
(The international man of football mystery, Baggiesboy, returns to the pages of No Mas with this dispatch filed straight from the press box at LP Field, where the U.S. under-23's took care of business tonight, prompting Sir Baggie to display a rather patriotic and uncanny knowledge of modern American country music, which has caused some here in the No Mas offices to revisit the prevailing theory that the Bagman is a Brit - L.)
Nashville, Tennessee was the place to be this week. The Grand Ole Opry extended membership privileges to Country chanteuse Carrie Underwood, Sam Moore played the Ryman Auditorium and the United States Men’s Olympic soccer team was in town to punch its ticket to the Beijing Games. I was last drawn to the “Music City” for a Travis Tritt profile. His first big hit was: “Here’s A Quarter (Call Someone Who Cares.”) A catchy, if somewhat less than chivalrous, tune that US Soccer was desperately hoping wouldn’t become their Olympic anthem.
Well in the words of Lee Greenwood: “God Bless The USA.” Yes, Freddy Adu And The Olympic Dreamers bounced Shania Twain’s countrymen in Thursday’s CONCACAF Olympic qualifying semifinal and now, unlike four years ago, the Parade of Nations beckons for the red, white and blue. Not for Mexico though. In this Olympic cycle the Osama chants were replaced by calls for the firing of Hugo Sanchez. And I thought the England manager sat on a hot plate.
Life is all about expectations. Sanchez claimed his young charges were destined for a podium spot in August. But Señor Soothsayer misfired, something he rarely did as a player. And what of the expectations for Team USA? Well, they’ll be stepping into an Olympic ring of fire.
The Beijing field will be stacked with great young talent: Lionel Messi, Fernando Gago and Sergio Aguero should be helping Argentina go for gold again. Archrivals Brazil will have Alexandre Pato, Anderson and Thiago Neves eligible, with Kaka clamoring to be selected as one of the overage players. Italy could bring New Jersey’s own Giuseppe Rossi, plus other big time prospects such as Lorenzo De Silvestri and Riccardo Montolivo. Salomon Kalou could play for Ivory Coast even though he nearly played for the Netherlands at the 2006 FIFA World Cup. The Dutch will almost certainly bring Ryan Babel and Royston Drenthe to China. A formidable lineup of potential foes, but the US squad has talent too.
Adu isn’t as good as he thinks he is, at least not yet, but he has shined in age-restricted international competitions. A fine performance at last year’s FIFA U-20 World Cup landed him his current deal in Portugal. And his goals went a long way towards putting the US back in the Olympics. Jonathan Spector, Michael Bradley and Jozy Altidore are all senior internationals, and worthy of the distinction. But unlike some of the Olympic favorites, the US needs help from its three overage players to win a medal.
Head coach Peter Nowak was doing a Tennessee waltz on this issue in Nashville. He invoked team chemistry, and the senior team’s World Cup qualifying overlap. Fair enough. Now lets get real. Nothing grabs America’s attention like a gold medal winning team contending for a Wheaties box cover shot. To that end I would suggest the presence of this trio of plus 23s at the Games: Tim Howard in goal (Kasey Keller or Brad Guzan could cover the World Cup games), Carlos Bocanegra on the back line alongside Spector, and Brian McBride leading the team as well as the front line.
Now before you go all Minnie Pearl on me, I know McBride has announced his international retirement and that Clint Dempsey would be left off the roster. But for me, McBride is the best player ever to don a USA soccer jersey, (Michelle Akers would come a close second.) He is also the only player I know where its better for his team physio to have enswell on hand rather than the magic sponge. This guy goes where angles fear to tread. He has spilled more blood than a “Kill Bill” extra in the cause of American soccer. Last weekend he returned to the score sheet for Fulham after a long injury layoff. Its no coincidence that the Cottagers plunge into the deadly EPL relegation waters came during their captain’s absence. And there is no reason for him to be absent from the Olympics. This is a man who thought long and hard before making the move to London because he didn’t want to uproot his family from Columbus, Ohio. Hey, that’s what I call a true patriot.
My guess is he would play if asked. And if US Soccer needs a compelling argument to get him to recant his retirement, at least temporarily, then they need look no further than the title of the debut album of his Country star namesake Martina McBride: “The Time Has Come.” The album didn’t go gold, and that would be too much to ask of this US Olympic team as well. But with McBride up front, Freddy and the other young Americans would be a tough team to beat.
By the way, I can’t speak to Carrie Underwood, but Sam Moore? Well, let me tell you, he is the tonic for whatever ails you.
On this day eleven years ago, the great Tony Zale died. A two-time middleweight champion, Zale's name is etched in boxing's collective memory forever in connection with Rocky Graziano and their knockdown drag-out trilogy in the 40's that still today is always mentioned in any discussion of the greatest trilogies in the history of the sport. Zale beat Graziano in his penultimate fight to regain the middleweight crown, but lost it in his very next and final trip to the ring to the Frenchman Marcel Cerdan, a legendary fight both because of its brutality and because of the ringside presence of chanteuse Edith Piaf, there to root on her Gallic lover.
Below is some video from Cerdan/Zale, and also a classic that I've shown before here on the Mas, a show hosted by Dick Schaap with Don Dunphy, Graziano and Zale as guests, talking about and watching Graziano/Zale III.
After the big Pacquiao/Marquez donnybrook this past weekend, boxing (along with entertainment, commerce and just about everything else of note in America) takes a bit of a break for March Madness. The next time that marquee fighters will step into the ring is on Saturday, April 11th, when Miguel Cotto takes on Contender alum, Alfonso Gomez, with Antonio Margarito on the undercard in a highly anticipated rematch with Kermit Cintron.
Still, for those of us noble souls among us who have no need of college basketball in our lives, there are a couple of notable fights this weekend, including a lightweight title fight on Saturday's B.A.D. broadcast between Aussie star-in-the-making Michael Katsidis and the Cuban battleaxe Joel Casamayor.
I'll have more of my thoughts on that bout on Friday, but for our No Mas Knockout of the Week, I turn my attention to the much-ballyhooed Irish southpaw Andy Lee, who will be in action this week on Friday Night Fights. A 2004 Olympian with just 15 professional bouts under his belt, Lee has got it all working for him right now. He's trained by Manny Steward, recently signed a big-time deal with Top Rank, and his startling knockouts along with Manny's constant promotion of his talents have his name reaching surprisingly stratospheric heights for such a raw prospect. Over and over again, Steward has told anyone who would listen that Lee would beat Kelly Pavlik with ease, and evidently all that repetition has put the Irishman on Pavlik's radar screen (the fact that Arum now promotes both fighters probably hasn't hurt Lee's chances on that score either).
Whether this tall (6'2"), gangly middleweight is worthy of all the hype is impossible to say at this point, but one thing we can say with certainty is this - he do be knocking m.f.'s out stone cold. As exhibit A, I present to you our K.O.W. below, one of the most pristine "timber" knockouts you'll ever see, Lee's sleepification of Carl Daniels almost a year ago today. On Friday, Lee is the FNF headliner against "Contender" fighter Brian Vera, and for once I must say I'm looking forward to Friday Night Fights.
Last year, the most righteous Unsilent Majority stepped in and gave us some excellent March Madness coverage and that was an acceptable solution to the whole situation. This year, well, I haven't communicated with Unsilent, but I imagine he has enough on his plate already, and look, I think it's time we just faced the facts on this question - College Fucking Basketball and March Fucking Madness is just not our bag over here at the Mas. I'm finally at that place in my life where I can admit it without shame - the whole thing bores the crap out of me. I know, I know, it's great for gambling, blah blah blah... like there aren't enough things to gamble on. Like EVERYTHING isn't great for gambling. This morning I set the over/under on when I'd take my first dump of the day at 9:15 a.m. I took the over and held out for the win.
Bottom line, take your pissass bracket somewhere else and rah-rah yourself to death with it. If a particularly good brawl breaks out and someone lands a haymaker of note, feel free to bring it up. Otherwise, we're taking a pass.
There simply cannot be anything in the history of sports to match this - two brothers fighting career-defining rematches in the space of two weeks, each fight a classic in its way, and each brother losing by the narrowest of margins that a fight can be lost, a single point on a single scorecard. Beware the ides of March indeed, or in the case of the snakebitten Marquez brothers, beware the whole goddamn month, for these first two weeks of March 2008 have brought them both excruciating disappointment.
I have to believe the lion's share of that disappointment rests with the elder brother, Juan Manuel, after losing a split decision last night to Manny Pacquiao in a seesaw battle of skill and blood and unbelievable mettle. No one ever has suggested that the career of the younger, lighter Marquez brother has been one of missed opportunities and under-appreciation. But with Juan Manuel, such feelings have hovered around him ever since the aftermath of the first Pacquiao fight in 2004. Last night's rematch was his shot at glorious redemption in the eyes of Mexico, the boxing world and the world at large. With the stakes so high, to lose by one point... on ONE scorecard... it's hard to imagine the heartbreak.
Of course, like his brother before him, Juan Manuel has nothing to hang his head about today. The fight was a masterpiece from both corners and close as close could be, such that it's literally hard to imagine a fight being much more even and great at the same time (well, except for that fight two weeks ago, with that other Marquez...). Amazingly, I had exactly the same score for Pacquiao last night that I did for Israel Vasquez - 114-113 - and I have to say, I felt more confident about that score than I did in Vasquez/Marquez III. Close as it was last night, I found the rounds easier to call. To my eyes, each fighter clearly won six rounds apiece, but of course in the third round Pac Man put JMM on his ass, and that was the difference right there.
What a punch it was too, the third-round blow that proved, as it were, the game-winning shot. As I remember it, Marquez lunged forward with a right hand and Manny slipped to his right, came up with a right hand of his own that was more of a feint than a punch, and then brought across a lightning-quick left hook right on the button of the still-lunging Marquez. JMM went down like he'd been shot. It wasn't the type of kinetic straight left that we're used to seeing Pacquiao knock people out with. It was a short precise hook that found a split-second opening, and the fact that it inflicted such momentary damage was quite a testament to something we've all known for a long time - Manny Pacquiao is one hell of a heavy puncher.
Marquez landed his share of big shots in the fight, even staggered Manny a few times, but he wasn't able to land him on the canvas (not enough is written about Pac Man's chin) because, thoughtful and accurate as he is with his punches, he just doesn't have the pop. Also, a lot of the starch came out of his shots in the late rounds and that hurt his chances on the scorecards. He dominated the middle of the fight - I had him winning rounds five through eight - but in the ninth a cut above his right eye caused by a seventh-round headbutt opened into an awful gash, and as the claret flowed his energy level visibly dropped. On my card, he lost rounds nine through eleven (almost going down again in the tenth) and needed at least a knockdown to tie it up going into the final frame. Though he won the 12th cleanly (Harold Lederman, what are you watching?), all it earned him was that heartbreaking one-point margin of defeat.
The bout reminded me a lot of Cotto/Mosley, another fight contested at such a high level of skill and intensity as to be almost beyond comprehension. The concentration being brought to bear in that ring last night was unbearably palpable. I felt it emanating through my television screen and it made me nervous. I tell you, these are the kinds of fights that I relish, that for me make boxing such satisfying sporting spectacle - the chess matches that are also slugfests, and vice versa. That perfect mixture of brain and brawn. In the final analysis, each of these men is amply possessed of both qualities, although Marquez has a bit more brain and Pacquiao slightly more brawn. When you think about it, that's a strikingly similar index to the Vasquez/Marquez breakdown. So what else is there to say in the end but... score another one for the brawn.
Tomorrow night's Manny Pacquiao/Juan Manuel Marquez bout poses a lot of questions for the prognosticating fight fan. Does Marquez have enough left in the tank to stage the kind of war necessary to beat Pacquiao? Does the fact that Manny has looked less than stellar in his last two fights, particularly the Jorge Solis bout last April, tell us anything about where he's at? Finally, is this fight just happening too late to give us the kind of classic rematch that we should have seen from these two fighters?
As I see it the answers to the questions above are yes, no, and sadly, yes. Marquez isn't shot yet by any stretch, and though I do think he's considerably slowed, his overwhelming pride and savvy are still enough to win him this fight. As for Pacquiao, too much has been made about his so-called soft 2007. Yes, he was off for Solis, and yes, he didn't look spectacular in beating Barrera, but Solis was a slightly underrated opponent who Manny clearly didn't get up for, and I give him a pass on that, because all of the great ones have an off night now and then. And Barrera, well, though clearly at the end of his rope, he's still Barrera, and he was in there with survival on his mind first and foremost. In other words, the conditions weren't exactly ideal for Pac Man to look like a world-beater that night, and nevertheless he did what he had to do and took care of business.
All of that said, I can't help but think that what we're going to see tomorrow night will pale in comparison to what we might have seen in the fall of 2004, and that falls on Marquez. As has been heavily documented, Marquez and his manager Nacho Beristain passed on a rematch after the first epic fight with Pacquiao in May of '04 (which ended in a draw after Pac Man knocked Juan Manuel down three times in the first round), passed on it cause they didn't like the money. At that point, remember Manny hadn't yet fought Erik Morales. One has to believe that if Marquez had fought an immediate Pacquiao rematch, presuming it was another great fight (and it's hard to imagine it not being so), no matter who won there most likely would have been a third fight. And if Marquez had won that second bout, he could have named his price for the third, not to mention that the epic Pacquiao v. Mexican trilogy of the millennium would have featured Marquez and not Morales, which would have made Jua
