by David P. Greisman
Photo © Chris Cozzone/FightWireImages.com
Three lasting images from the year to date, in reverse chronological order:
July 14, Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City. A right hand from Alfonso Gomez sends Arturo Gatti crumbling to the canvas, the final blow in a seventh round that had seen Gomez batter the former 130- and 140-pound beltholder around the ring. Referee Randy Neumann begins to issue a count, only to be interrupted as Larry Hazzard Sr., chief of the New Jersey State Athletic Control Board, steps between the ropes to call a halt to the bout.
June 23, the Thomas and Mack Center in Las Vegas. Jose Luis Castillo sends a left hook at the head of junior welterweight champion Ricky Hatton, but Hatton responds with two left hooks of his own. The first bounces off of Castillo’s shoulder, the second veers around Castillo’s elbow and into his body. Castillo’s face foreshadows what follows, as the former two-time lightweight titlist turns away, takes a knee by the ropes and catches his breath while referee Joe Cortez counts to 10.
April 7, the Shrine Mosque in Springfield, Mo. Diego Corrales, as usual, has taken punishment all night, but this time the pain is being dealt out by a bigger, stronger man in welterweight Joshua Clottey. After eight rounds of breaking Corrales down, Clottey puts the former 130- and 135-pound titlist on the floor. Corrales gets up and lasts the 10-round distance, but his lips are swollen, his jaw is possibly broken and a cut above his right eye has brought the crimson flowing. Corrales would die one month later, killed in a motorcycle accident two years to the date of his amazing first war with Jose Luis Castillo.
One more. There’s always one more fight. Gatti’s loss followed a crushing knockout at the hands of Carlos Baldomir. Castillo’s defeat came after years of killing his body to make the lightweight limit. Corrales, no stranger himself to draining his frame, couldn’t even follow his divisional rival Castillo to junior welterweight, instead needing to jump to 147.
One more. There’s one more lasting image, this one from late last year.
Nov. 18, the Thomas and Mack Center, Vegas. It is the third round of Erik Morales’ rubber match with Manny Pacquiao. Morales has already been sent to the mat twice, once in the second stanza and once again in the current heat. A Pacquiao left cross crashes Morales down once more, a hit that dumps Morales on his tail with his back leaning against the ropes. Referee Vic Drakulich begins his count, and Morales looks leftward as his corner urges him to rise. Morales glances to his right at the referee and Pacquiao, and then he turns his look back at his team and shakes his head, waiting for Drakulich to reach 10 before finally standing up.
Morales, having lost three bouts in a row, could have announced his retirement and not been criticized. But there’s always one more fight. This one, Aug. 4, the Allstate Arena in Rosemont, Ill., is against David Diaz for the World Boxing Council’s lightweight title.
Morales’ last foray to 135, in September 2005, was far from stellar, as he looked sluggish, out of shape and off balance while Zahir Raheem used his speed and slickness to pick Morales apart. Like Gatti, Castillo and Corrales, Morales had pushed his body to the limit in order to make weight, sacrifices made worthwhile through titles captured at 122, 126 and 130. But when it finally came time for the other three to step up, the differences in size and power at their new weight classes, combined with the accumulation of wear and tear on the rising fighters’ bodies, brought disappointment conclusions to the tales of stories warriors.
Morales, however, insists that things will be different for him, that his second shot at lightweight will resurrect a fighter who many think is on his last legs.
“I really have something to prove, and I also believe at lightweight I will be stronger and quicker,” Morales said last week via press release. “This is a fight I really want, and I am very motivated.”
“Diaz is a very raw fighter, and he still has an amateur style of fighting,” he said in another release. “The difficulties will be that he is left-handed and he is fighting in his hometown, but I will win this fight with intelligence and by taking away his aggressiveness early in the fight. I expect a good fight, but in the end my boxing skills and experience will be the difference.”
Motivation, intelligence and experience. Mind. Strength, quickness and boxing skills. Body. Morales has spent 14 years fighting professionally, 10 since he knocked out Daniel Zaragoza in what was a passing-of-the-torch moment. Few, though, question the mind of the savvy veteran, but rather a body that has accrued punishment and aged beyond Morales’ three decades.
His trilogy with Marco Antonio Barrera was spread out between 2000 and 2004, a razor-thin win and two close losses with plenty of victories in-between. He jumped from junior featherweight to featherweight, from featherweight to junior lightweight, taking on and taking out many of the better fighters each division had to offer. This time, with his last two outings being losses via stoppage and knockout to Pacquiao, Morales may have bitten off more than he could chew.
Morales is, in essence, fighting 13 pounds north of his best weight. Diaz, meanwhile, is a junior welterweight who has come down in recent years to 135, something that should give the Chicagoan southpaw a size advantage despite his actually being shorter than “El Terrible.” Diaz, incidentally, is a year older than Morales but far less battle-worn, fresher and more able to still dig in deep and come from behind, just as he did a year ago against Jose Armando Santa Cruz.
Gatti. Castillo. Corrales. Three warriors whose final stands saw each being taken off of his feet. Morales’ last appearance saw him shaking his head and calling it a night. If he fails to get the nod against Diaz, he should call it a career.
The 10 Count will return next week.
David P. Greisman’s weekly column, “Fighting Words,” appears every Monday on BoxingScene.com. He may be reached for questions and comments at fightingwords1@gmail.com
