By Kevin Kincade
Amidst bowling lanes, arcade games, pool tables and black labels, my partner in crime and I pulled up a couple of stools at one of our favorite sports bars and readied ourselves for step one on the path out of the desert of the heavyweight wasteland which has dominated the fistic landscape for what seems like an eon or two. The joint was alive with the drunken rowdiness of March Madness around one hundred and sixteen of one hundred and twenty big screens.
If it wasn't Alabama and UCLA, it was Indiana and Gonzaga; and the two men contesting for the "richest prize in all of sports" were all but forgotten. As I sat face to face with the apathy that has all but overcome the sport that I love, a touch of melancholy came over me. How did it come to this? Where did we go wrong?........"Sir, are you ready for another?"
Muhammad Ali, Joe Louis, Mike Tyson, Larry Holmes, Rocky Marciano; people knew these names and would sit around their radio or television or flock to the nearest closed circuit telecast or shell out the PPV dollars whenever they fought. The world practically stopped whenever two men faced each other for the right to be called World Heavyweight Champion.
Now I consider myself lucky that the manager feels enough sympathy for the leper colony tipping his waitresses and barkeeps to donate four of his sets to our collective fix. Just when I thought the scene couldn't get any more depressing, my friend, Chan, asked me what I thought about Duke ripping George Washington a new one earlier in the day. Et Tu Chan-e'?!
Minutes passed, empty glasses were filled, and while watching the Crimson Tide fight like hell against a more talented team with a deeper roster, I found myself forgetting about the yuppie breeding ground around me and drifted off into pre-fight analysis and anticipation. Such different roads these two warriors have traveled, yet as opposite as they seemed at the moment, both of their journeys were marked with glaring similarities.
Just as James Toney was once looked upon as the best pound for pound fighter on the planet, defeating the likes of Michael Nunn, Reggie Johnson, Mike McCallum, Iran Barkley, and "Prince" Charles Williams; Hasim Rahman was one of the next generation of heavyweights destined to replace the old guard. Then, when each reached their moment of truth, the bottom fell out. For Rahman, it was the Lewis rematch; Toney's came in the form of Roy Jones Jr. Just like that, Rahman hit an 0-3-1 skid and Toney lost three more fights in the three years following the Jones embarrassment. Oh, how the mighty have fallen; such talent, such ability, such potential....such a waste. That sentiment was on the heart of any fan who had seen them perform at their best. The good news was, here they were with one more moment of truth that could potentially spark a new interest in the sport.
Needless to say, hopes were high. Toney-Rahman was the first of three fights over the next month that, hopefully, will begin to clear up the confusion in the big boy division. Next up is Lamon Brewster and Segei Liakhovich and then Klitschko-Byrd II. Maybe, just maybe, Diamond Don will begin matching the winners in a “box-off” for the Real World Heavyweight Championship…..and maybe he won’t schedule the finals on the same day as the Super Bowl. One can dream.
Just then I looked up to see Chan grinning at me from behind his Killians, "Rock's gonna knock him cold. Toney’s never faced a real heavyweight puncher." I had to smile; finally the boy had come around to the event at hand.....'bout damn time. It was hard to argue with him. His point about Toney being a former middleweight having faced light-end heavyweight competition was a good one; but how many tough heavyweights are there these days?!
Rahman is, without a doubt, the biggest, strongest, and hardest punching fighter Toney has ever faced; and looked as “rock-solid” as I’ve seen him in years, while Toney resembled a burnt Pillsbury Doughboy. Still, James looked soft against Ruiz and Guinn and it didn’t seem to make much difference.
As the fighters were being introduced, a funny thing happened. I'm not going to say all; but a few Madness Maniacs began turning their heads towards those four lonesome not-so-big screens. Maybe there’s hope for the sport, yet. See, everybody loves a world heavyweight championship bout! It’s like a car wreck on the interstate, you just can’t look away. Anytime two big men get in a circle square to “settle it” once and for all, people are going to watch. There were a few cracks about how fat “that one” was; but this is a game of skill, after all, and Toney had it in spades over Rahman. Those of us who were watching the fight, which was growing by the second, held our breaths, waiting for Rock to land his first solid punch to see how Toney would react.
As you now know, he took that first right hand well as he did every other punch Rock landed. The bar patrons, who took the time to avert their eyes and watch the fight, ooed and aahed whenever Toney snapped off one of those beautiful counter rights. More and more, comments like, “That fat guy sure can fight” began to drift over the usual bar chatter. Also, there were more than a few commenting on how Toney almost fell down when he missed “that one”.
The fight was exciting enough to capture the average public’s attention in spurts, similar to Toney’s offense; but, for all of the occasional shared enjoyment from our growing band of outlaws, the overwhelming disgust when the decision was announced more than countered any positive effect the bout had on the casual fans in attendance. See, there’s no drawing in basketball.
The general consensus was the Rahman deserved to win because he outworked the slovenly Toney. Everyone respected the Former Middleweight Champ’s effort and admired his skill; but they just didn’t think he did enough to win. Immediately following the decision, there were conspiracy theories thrown out for all to hear; “They fixed it so that would have to fight again for more money! That’s why I can’t stand boxing! It’s too crooked!” What could I say?.....Subjective scoring, you gotta love it. The night had begun with the hopes that this was step one in finding out who is the Baddest Man on the Planet and ended with eyes rolling with I told you so sentiments.
From an analytical standpoint, both of these men proved to be courageous as we already knew. They also proved that neither deserves the mantle of World Heavyweight Champion. Both belong in the upper tier of the top ten; but neither are the best, at least not off of that performance. Toney was the heaviest of his career and it showed. He looked slower, off balance at times, and fatigued from round 4 on.
Rock, on the other hand, was in superb shape and boxed better than I’ve seen in a long time. However, his defensive inadequacies would have gotten him killed had he been in the ring with a real heavyweight, rather than a blown-up middleweight/super-middleweight/light-heavyweight/cruiserweight….pick one.
There’s a scene in “Raging Bull” where Jake LaMotta (De Niro) is at the kitchen table with his brother Joey (Pesci) and starts lamenting over his hands and how small (like a girl’s) they were. In that scene, Lamotta was convinced he could have beaten Joe Louis if not for his little bitty hands. Well, whether it was life imitating art or not, it was Toney’s little bitty hands and his not so little bitty appetite that lost him the Rahman fight. He countered Rock well; and if he had a heavyweight’s punch, he’d be wearing the Gold today. Even if he had been committed enough to the task to work off those 10 to 15 extra-pounds, it’s conceivable that he could have won the belt as well. As it is, he ended up kissing his sister…..and is lucky she found him kissable.
Well draw or no draw, it was a good fight, even if nobody noticed or cared. At least for a moment in time, a few people cast their eyes upon the Grand Daddy of all Sports. As Chan and I were settling our tabs and heading for the door, a guy in an Indiana T-Shirt staggered towards us on his way to the bar, I suppose. I guess he’d seen us from his seat at a table a few yards away as we yelled at the screen and then shook our heads and cursed in disbelief at the verdict. Either way, as he listed to one side, trying not to spill his brew, he slurred, “So, who won?”
“Gonzaga,” I smiled.
Questions or Comments: kevin.kincade@citcomm.com
