MMA Fighters & Boxing Counterparts: Part 3 (http://www.sherdog.com/news/articles/mma-fighters-boxing-counterparts-part-3-14731)

In this three-part series, Sherdog.com’s Jason Probst takes a closer look at some mixed martial arts athletes and those in the Sweet Science with whom they share notable traits. Part three features interim UFC heavyweight champion Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira, EliteXC welterweight titleholder Jake Shields and former World Wrestling Entertainment superstar Brock Lesnar, among others.

Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira = Kid Gavilan

One of the top 10 welterweights of all-time, Kid Gavilan combined stamina, a high work rate and cast-iron chin to outwork his opponents. At his peak, he was virtually impossible to discourage, especially in a fast-paced bout. He beat a slew of top fighters in his career, including Ike Williams, Carmen Basilio, Billy Graham and Beau Jack, as well as several top welterweight and middleweight contenders. With his signature “Bolo” punch, he also had a trademark move that appealed to fans.

Gavilan’s problem was that he came along at the same time as Ray Robinson, which was kind of like following The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show. Though Gavilan was competitive in two bouts with the Robinson, he lost both by decision, including one for Robinson’s welterweight belt.

After Robinson moved to middleweight, Gavilan captured the welterweight crown and enjoyed an impressive reign, registering seven defenses before abdicating the title and making a failed attempt at the middleweight belt against Bobo Olson. He probably fought in as many televised bouts in the 1950s as anyone.

Nogueira’s Ray Robinson is Fedor Emelianenko. In three bouts -- one of which was aborted as a no-contest after scant action -- he’s been beaten handily twice by the Russian. No matter what Nogueira does as the UFC champion, there will always be a shadow hanging over his title until the UFC signs Emelianenko and allows the two men to get it on again. As unlikely as that appears, it’s even more unlikely Emelianenko would find less success in a cage. Some guys just have your number.

Mirko "Cro Cop" Filipovic = Wladimir Klitschko

Physical gifts make a big difference in fight sports, but the mentality of a fighter often makes the difference in how readily they are applied. In the case of both of these men, there’s no question they’re head and shoulders above their peers when it comes to delivering a fight-changing blow.

Blessed with a 6-foot-6 frame and quick hands, Klitschko is probably the most offensively gifted heavyweight since an in-his-prime Mike Tyson. He does things that long-armed heavies simply have not done -- double left hooks that stun foes and blinding counterpunches that score head-spinning knockdowns and knockouts. Yet his career arc consistently hits flat spots when you think he’s finally putting it all together, and he either loses or performs in uninspiring fashion. For a boxing fan, it’s enough to drive you crazy, considering the tools he has.

Filipovic, once a feared Pride Fighting Championships heavyweight, seems to suffer from the same lack of fire. Since moving to the UFC in 2007, he’s lost two of three bouts, as well as a no-contest against Alistair Overeem in Japan, during which he seemed uninterested in the stakes at hand.

It’s a stark departure from the path of destruction he blazed in destroying Hidehiko Yoshida, Josh Barnett and Wanderlei Silva on the same night before coming stateside. Both Cro Cop and Klitschko have the physical tools to be dominant on a given night -- but sometimes they look like they’d rather be punching a clock somewhere instead of the guy in front them.

B.J. Penn = Ezzard Charles

Remembered largely as a heavyweight champion who decisioned an aging Joe Louis and battled Rocky Marciano in two gritty defeats, Charles was probably the best light heavyweight who ever lived. Yet he never won the title. Blessed with technical wizardry, he had an intuitive sense of range, timing and precision. Beating Archie Moore three out of three does not hurt his light heavyweight credentials, either. But Charles had his big-money fights against bigger men, including his 1954 battle to a decision loss against Marciano, where he had the champion badly cut. He probably would’ve won by technical knockout stoppage today.

Weighing 190 pounds in his prime, Charles gave away size and still was one of the best in the division in his day. Charles also had shocking one-punch power in his right hand, and it was said the “Cincinnati Cobra” lost much of his killer instinct after Sam Baroudi died following their 1948 match.

Penn has a similar story. Forever jumping between weight classes, he’s suddenly bored with the lightweights, despite holding the belt, and is slated to take on UFC welterweight champion Georges St. Pierre in a January rematch. If anybody can stop the Canadian juggernaut, it’s Penn, and it will be even more impressive considering he’ll be giving away a lot of natural size over a five-round fight. And while Penn’s stellar takedown defense and jiu-jitsu make him one of the trickiest fighters in the game, he also possesses a great chin, clever defense and good power in his strikes. From a technical standpoint, he has few equals in the sport.

Jake Shields = Mike McCallum

In the early to mid 1980s, boxing fans were treated to the wonderful foursome of Roberto Duran, Sugar Ray Leonard, Tommy Hearns and “Marvelous” Marvin Hagler, who all fought one another in a dizzying series of super fights that never disappointed.

Mike McCallum was an overlooked dark horse during that period who was just coming into his own, and by the time he was a big name in 1987, the foursome had largely disappeared. Hearns moved up in weight, Hagler seemingly retired and Duran knew better than to fight him. Leonard was eyeing big-name rematches with Hearns and Duran, in between picking up a payday against Donnie LaLonde in 1988.

At that time, however, McCallum would’ve been a handful for any of them. He was exceptionally smooth with top-notch skills, ring generalship and a cool demeanor, backed up by impeccable timing and a closer’s instinct.

That’s exactly the kind of fighter Jake Shields has become, as he labors in EliteXC and takes on longshot challengers. If Georges St. Pierre continues to rule the UFC’s 170-pounders in his one-sided fashion, you wonder if Shields will fall into the same no man’s land McCallum did.

Ricco Rodriguez = Riddick Bowe

Guy with tons of ability wins heavyweight title, loses focuses, gets fat and then drifts out of the picture. Sound familiar?

When Bowe won the heavyweight crown against Evander Holyfield in 1992, he was a 235-pound fighting machine, adept at battling in close -- unusual for such a big man -- or boxing your ears off with a world-class jab and thumping right hand. After two meaningless defenses against aged veterans Michael Dokes and Jessie Ferguson, he plumped up to 246 pounds for a rematch with Holyfield and lost a close decision that saw him sucking wind down the stretch.

Bowe’s weight problems dogged him throughout his career, along with stability issues, and he never regained the title.

Rodriquez -- a gifted grappler who once tapped Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira in an Abu Dhabi Combat Club submission match -- seemed to represent the next generation of heavyweight when he beat Randy Couture for the UFC title in 2002. Losing his first defense to 5-to-1 underdog Tim Sylvia, Rodriguez has since drifted around various promotions, breaking the 300-pound mark for some fights and losing to fighters who would’ve been 10-to-1 underdogs against him in his prime.

He’s still active today, but, like Bowe, you have to wonder what he could have accomplished had he stayed in shape.

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David "Tank" Abbott = Tony Galento

Hard drinking, hard-hitting Tony Galento once put Joe Louis on the deck in a title challenge, before “The Brown Bomber” rallied to stop him in the next round. Far from refined and happy to be cast as a stereotypical brawler, Galento was also great with the one-liners, claiming he trained on beer and hamburgers. A portly 5-foot-9, Galento usually weighed around 235 and looked nothing like a heavyweight contender, but he carried massive power in his haymakers. He also wasn’t above delivering a foul blow and turning a match into a street-fight with elbows, wrestling, holding and hitting or any manner of roughhouse tactics.

Abbott never won a world title, either, but he carried the kind of one-shot knockout power that made him a draw and fan favorite. He’s also similar to Galento in build, witty one-liners and using inventive tactics to win a fight.

Whether it’s covering an opponent’s mouth to impede breathing -- as Tank did in the early UFCs -- or expertly placing his chin in Steve Jennum’s eye to cause extreme discomfort, Abbott knew how to close the show with panache. Abbott also disliked being beaten in overly technical fashion. Knock him out by standing toe-to-toe and you’d get no complaint, but Abbott never liked the submission game and never wanted to admit defeat if he got caught in one.

Kazushi Sakuraba = Sam Langford

Considered by many the best boxer never to win a championship, Langford was too good for his own good. He was born at the wrong time, a fighter in an era where circumstances worked against him. A 5-foot-8, blown-up middleweight, Langford turned pro at 18 in 1902 and finally hung up the gloves in 1926. With his prime occurring at roughly the same time as Jack Johnson’s title reign (1908-14), Langford only got to fight “Lil’ Arthur” once, losing a decision in a non-title bout before Johnson took the crown.

With the color barrier in effect, Langford instead fought other great black fighters of his day. He matched fists against fellow black heavy Harry Wills 22 times and fought Joe Jeannette in at least a dozen bouts. He also beat great black fighters like Joe Gans, Peter Jackson, Sam McVey and Tiger Flowers. Defensively, he was a marvel, and he carried walloping power in his fists.

In 20 years, MMA historians might look at Sakuraba’s career and draw similar parallels. Despite being a natural 185-pounder, Sakuraba was consistently matched against top light heavies and heavies, taking on a murderer’s row of opposition given his size deficit. He fought Wanderlei Silva three times, an in-his-prime Igor Vovchanchyn in 2000, Mirko “Cro Cop” Filipovic, Ricardo Arona and Antonio Rogerio Nogueira. He also registered wins over Quinton "Rampage" Jackson and Kevin Randleman, as well as Royce, Ryan and Renzo Gracie.

Who knows what Sakuraba could have accomplished had he come along now and been able to fight solely against men his size.

Lyoto Machida = Gene Tunney

Like Tunney, Machida is not a fan favorite, but technically, he’s years ahead of the competition. Interestingly, like Tunney did with Dempsey, Machida had a near-disaster down the home stretch in his bout with Tito Ortiz (our figurative Jack Dempsey here). He fell into a threatening triangle choke in the final moments of the fight before recovering and cruising to a one-sided decision win.

Perhaps it’s because we’re used to explosive light heavies like Ortiz, Chuck Liddell, Wanderlei Silva and Quinton Jackson, but the unbeaten Machida’s hit-and-move style subjects him to a lot more criticism than he deserves. Tunney suffered the same problem, following the colorful and animalistic Dempsey with a cerebral style.

Tunney was tough when he needed to be -- he broke his nose in the opening moments of his 15-round decision loss to Harry Grab, the sole defeat of his career -- and beat Grab in their next four bouts. And he was Dempsey’s master in two bouts. However, he also was an intellectual who read books and studied poetry. The public disliked him far more than it should have, for he was a great fighter.

Brock Lesnar = George Foreman

Before he dropped Joe Frazier six times in two brutal rounds to win the heavyweight crown in 1973, Foreman was believed by many to be more myth than reality. At 220 pounds, with a record of 37-0 (34 KO), the 1968 Olympic gold medalist had also looked clumsy against slicker opposition prior to his title shot. While he had undeniable physical gifts, he could at times appear plodding and too much of a headhunter.

Foreman proved that he was more than just a big guy. Heavyweight contenders in his day rarely scaled more than 210 pounds, and styles like Frazier’s were tailor-made for Foreman, who used a punishing jab and power punches to bounce the champion around like a yo-yo before the bout was mercifully stopped. Foreman scored two more one-sided defenses, including a second-round destruction of Ken Norton, before getting outboxed and outfoxed by Muhammad Ali in the “Rumble in the Jungle” in 1974.

Lesnar is the kind of physical phenom Foreman was in his era. A man who has to cut weight to make a sculpted 265 pounds should not be as quick and technically adept as Lesnar. His November bout with Randy Couture is one heck of an acid test for a guy with only three fights to his credit. Remember, though, that Couture bases his game on overpowering people and utilizing better wrestling. That’s exactly the kind of fight Lesnar can win, and if he does, his bandwagon is sure to fill up.

A slicker submission artist like Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira might give him the kind of trouble Couture cannot, but either way, Lesnar has a big opportunity to establish himself as a legitimate contender at UFC 91 on Nov. 15.

I've agreed with some of the comparisons, disagreed with others. The only one I'm going to comment on is the Lesnar/Foreman comparison. Aside from the fear they seem to instill in their opponets before a fight there is no other similarity.

Lesnar is just starting his career in MMA out, Foreman is a legend. Lesnar can be compared to Foreman in another 16 years when he wins the Heavyweight title at the age of 45.

That's the only comparison I really had to vocally disagree with.