Another Stream-of-Consciousness Boxing Morning…

By Lyle Fitzsimmons

 

I should’ve known it was coming.

 

When I got to my desk Monday morning and glanced at my page-a-day calendar, I noticed with some surprise… and even more chagrin… that Tom Seaver was celebrating a birthday.

 

Not that I begrudge the Hall of Famer an annual day to celebrate, of course.

 

After all, during at least some of his “Tom Terrific” days - those spent with my beloved Cincinnati Reds between 1978 and 1982 anyway - No. 41 was as big a sports hero as this sports-addled geek from Niagara Falls, N.Y. had ever known.

 

But the fact that he was turning 64, well… was more than a bit jarring.

 

Simply put, if Seaver was now within a year of official recognition as a senior citizen, that meant people who were his fans back then, errr… are sort of getting up there themselves.

 

Another Monday. Another midlife crisis. Another day in paradise.

 

Undaunted, though, I plunged forward.

 

While pondering my options and looking ahead at an 11 p.m. deadline for the column you’re right now digesting, I rattled a series of ideas through my head.

 

And at that time of the morning, they were all gold.

 

Maybe I’d call Paulie Malignaggi, to preview his “king of the junior welterweight hill” matchup with Ricky Hatton this weekend in Las Vegas.

 

Perhaps I’d chat with Tom Thompson, to visit with the owner of the late, great TigerBoxing.com - the site that spawned current BoxingScene.com team members Shawn Krest and, well… me.

 

I could call trainer extraordinaire George Peterson, to get a quick session in with Paul Williams in advance of his upcoming 154-pound bout with Verno Phillips.

 

Or, I could dial up publicist extraordinaire Marylyn Aceves, who’d hook me up with prodigious heavyweight slugger Chris Arreola en route to his undercard duel with Travis Walker.

 

By noontime, I was giddy with choices… so I went about other things.

 

Reading the day’s headlines. Handling other freelance work. Ruining my diet.

 

But by the time I revisited several hours later, things had taken a turn for the worse.

 

A 4 p.m. call to Malignaggi went straight to voicemail and a message left had gone unacknowledged.

 

A 7 p.m. e-mail to Thompson seeking an update was foiled by, of all things, a eighth-grade school project due today that’d require exclusive use of the computer.

 

A 7:30 p.m. call to Peterson also went straight to voicemail. No reply.

 

And, during a 15-minute respite in which I stepped away from the phone to tucker out my seven-month-old son, Ryan, for an 8 p.m. bedtime, Marylyn opened and closed the day’s window on Arreola.

 

As it slammed shut, I heard the Rick Reeno mantra:

 

“This is why you never count on a fighter for a deadline piece,” the BoxingScene guru said. “Always shoot for the day before. That way if they flake, you move forward to the next idea.”

 

I promise you one thing, Rick…

 

For the love of Charlie Puleo, Lloyd McClendon and Jason Felice - the trio the Reds got for Seaver when dealing him back to the Mets at the end of his 75-win stint in Ohio - I’ll never doubt you again.

 

And, oh yeah… Happy Belated Birthday, Tom.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

One month from Thursday, Evander Holyfield’s getting a heavyweight title shot.

 

But as hard as I try, I can’t muster up the disgust everyone else seems to have gathered.

 

Oh, don’t worry, I know all the particulars of the match with Nikolai Valuev.

 

Evander’s all of 46 years old. He hasn’t beaten a rated fighter in seven years. He won no more than three rounds on any card in a WBO title try against then-champ Sultan Ibragimov last October.

 

And to say the least, his motivations this time around seem as much financial as competitive.

 

But you know what? He’s still Evander Holyfield.

 

And to me, that still means something.

 

He’s still the best American in the division since Holmes. He’s still the most compelling figure in the division since Tyson. And he’s still got more back story than anyone in the division since Foreman.

 

Speaking of Foreman, he’s just a tad older than George was when he performed his biggest career trick, landing the right that separated Michael Moorer from his senses and his IBF/WBA titles in 1994.

 

And based on the current state of the WBA’s top 15 challengers - including Mssrs. Meehan, Bidenko, Dimitrenko, Golota, Johnson, Ruiz, Williamson, Arreola, Drumond, Boytsov, Brewster, Chapman, Sam, Bakhtov and Minto, along with “champion in recess” Ruslan Chagaev - who else is there?

 

The clear and inarguable answer? No one.

 

Before the outrage starts, let’s say for the record… of course, I don’t want to see him hurt.

 

Of course, I don’t want to see him become a punch line compared to what he once was. And of course, I don’t want him to wind up an opponent for every two-bit pretender climbing the ladder to make a name.

 

Call me a fool… but I don’t think it’s a sure thing he loses.

 

Is it really that far a stretch to see him outwork the giant, do enough to win seven of 12 rounds and maybe wake up the echoes long enough to land one more flurry strong enough to topple a 7-foot tree?

 

Call me a fool… but count me among those willing to allow him the chance.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Mean time, Monday marked another celebration of another money grab.

 

Fighter-turned-promoter-turned-magnate-turned-diva Oscar De La Hoya participated in yet another media conference call trying to legitimize a Dec. 6 pay-per-view bonanza that’ll match the recent 154-pound champion with reigning 135-pound belt-holder Manny Pacquiao.

 

And to me, it’s not nearly as compelling a premise as Holyfield.

 

“I will be extremely, extremely disappointed if this fight doesn't end in a knockout,” said De La Hoya, who defended his WBC welterweight title for the fifth title shortly before Pacquiao won his initial title - at flyweight - in 1998. “It will be a total disaster.”

 

Gee Oscar… ya think?

 

To his credit, and by any means necessary, the “Golden Boy” has spent the last several weeks making an argument that the 5-foot-6 1/2 Pacquiao - with one career fight at 135 pounds - presents a clear and present danger to a 5-foot-10 1/2 foe who’s not seen the 140s on a scale in seven years.

 

Careful not to let the dollars in his eyes betray his ashen glare, he contends that his foe’s decade of duels with the Juan Manuel Marquezes, Erik Moraleses and David Diazes of the world is on the level with his own battles with the bigger, stronger Fernando Vargas, Felix Trinidad and Bernard Hopkins.

 

It’s ridiculous. But given Oscar’s unquestioned prowess as a promoter, people are buying it.

 

And to his credit… he’s fanning the flames while saying nothing.

 

“When you prepare yourself for a fight, you get stronger, you get faster and you feel confident. And the fight comes closer, you feel good about yourself,” he said. “You're almost at a 100 percent. You feel like King Kong in that you can destroy anybody.

 

“That's the way I feel right now and I'm sure that Manny Pacquiao feels the same way.”

 

Come to think of it… I think I feel something, too.