by David P. Greisman (photo by Chris Cozzone/FightWireImages.com)

Passions can burn for decades, but flames will eventually run out of fuel.

Bernard Hopkins and Roy Jones Jr. carried the competitive fire into their 40s. Entering this year, Hopkins, 45, had fought eight times since that milestone birthday. Jones, 41, had fought three times. They had captured championships, secured their legacies, declined from their primes and continued to fight anyway.

One thing was left, and it was long overdue.

A rematch. One that would come nearly 17 years after the original, back when Hopkins was 28, Jones was 24, and neither had fought for a world title before that night when they met each other. Jones was already in dominant form. Hopkins was still developing. Jones won a decision and a middleweight belt.

In the ensuing years, Jones would add titles at super middleweight, light heavyweight and heavyweight. Hopkins would conquer middleweight before moving up to light heavyweight. Jones was the best at 175 and Hopkins was the best at 160 when, one night in February 2002, each fought on HBO – Jones in Florida, Hopkins in Pennsylvania – before sharing the screen in a verbal showdown.

Their war would not go beyond words. Both in 2002 and throughout the remainder of the decade, those deadly sins of greed and pride meant neither would make the other feel his wrath.

Until 2010, when neither would be either willing or able to do so.

They had signed to fight, and marketed their match as the bitter blood feud between rivals it had sounded like over the years. Passion can burn for decades. But flames will eventually run out of fuel. The talk – vitriolic, heated, confident – did not match the action.

Neither was willing to fight three minutes a round. Hopkins had prolonged his career by limiting his activity, extending his stamina. He would punch when he needed to and avoid being punched the rest of the time. Jones had prolonged his career by limiting his vulnerability, avoiding the knockout. He would punch when he needed to and avoid being punched the rest of the time.

Each did it differently. Each had varying degrees of success. Hopkins’ frugality cost him decisions against Jermain Taylor and Joe Calzaghe. Jones, in the time following his knockout losses to Antonio Tarver and Glen Johnson, could out-speed those who were slow and posed little danger, but he wouldn’t engage with those capable of hitting and hurting him.

In his prime, Jones could do before his opponents thought, punching and getting out of the way. When he fought Hopkins 17 years ago, he potshotted his aggressive opponent with left hooks and right hand leads. As Jones aged, those reflexes diminished. In the years since, Hopkins had gone from come-forward executioner to cerebral assassin.

Jones had lost his physical advantages. Hopkins still had his mental acumen.

It didn’t bode well competitively or aesthetically.

Now, when Jones leapt forward with left hooks or lead with a right, Hopkins moved away or blocked the shots. Now, when Hopkins threw a right or sent forth a flurry, Jones was still there, or he was forced to back to the ropes, the fallback position for fighters whose legs have left them.

Jones threw only 274 punches on the fight, averaging less than 23 per round. He landed just 82, or about seven per round. One would be hard pressed to find a signature shot.

Hopkins threw a total of 526 punches, about 44 for every three minutes, landing 184, or about 15 per round. He landed nearly half of his power punches – 156 of 320 – but that statistic is misleading, for Hopkins, more often than not, mauled Jones in close, landing short shots in the clinch.

They feinted. They moved. They held. They fouled. Hopkins’ best combination on the night was a right hand followed by a charging head butt that opened a cut over Jones’ left eye. His best single punch was a low blow.

The only damage Jones did came on three different occasions – twice on rabbit punches, once on a low blow, none of those shots looking as if they had much power behind them. Yet Hopkins went down to his hands and knees, portraying painful distress but reminding many of the histrionics he showed two years ago following a low blow from Joe Calzaghe.

After taking time to recover from a rabbit punch from Jones in round six, Hopkins charged at Jones, reenergized from the rest. They fought through the bell at the round’s end, the most passion either had showed until then, more passion than either would show for the remainder.

Seventeen years. Seventeen years for the rematch to happen. A decade of trash talk and taunting and negotiating. All ending in a wide unanimous decision for Hopkins – 117-110 (twice) and 118-109 – that seemed more like an exhibition of old-timers in their twilight than it did the culmination of and conclusion to a true blood feud.

The fight would’ve been better off never than late.

Their names, their accomplishments and their history had brought some intrigue to the fight. But most fans realized that those accomplishments were but history and that all Hopkins and Jones really had left were their names.

The arena at the Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas had just 6,792 people there for a fight between two legitimate legends. A number of those tickets likely were discounted.

The pay-per-view had little buzz. With it coming between Manny Pacquiao’s fight with Joshua Clottey in March and the May fight between Shane Mosley and Floyd Mayweather Jr., convincing people to spend $50 for a bout with doubtful entertainment value was going to be a hard sell.

Considering the way the fight went, if the show earned any money, Hopkins and Jones would be laughing all the way to the bank. Instead, each was taken to the hospital – Hopkins for observation after he briefly collapsed in the dressing room following the fight, Jones for precautionary reasons.

Passions can burn for decades, but flames will eventually run out of fuel. For Bernard Hopkins and Roy Jones Jr., even the competitive fire is waning. They waited too long to capitalize on their intense rivalry, 17 years of lost time ending with 36 minutes best worth forgetting.

The 10 Count

1.  Math is a strange thing – I majored in English – so let me make sure I understand this correctly:

Adding two future Hall of Fame inductees – Bernard Hopkins + Roy Jones – equals one of the worst fights I’ve seen.

Adding two guys who likely will not be enshrined in Canastota – Diego Corrales + Jose Luis Castillo – equals one of the best fights I’ve seen.

Perhaps we can explain Hopkins-Jones 2 with simple arithmetic: one negative plus another negative equals an even bigger negative.

2.  Tweets of the Week (in chronological order):

March 30, 8:51 p.m. Eastern Time: “Williams-Cintron will be called ‘The Weight Is Over.’ When I saw the name, I wondered, ‘Wait, who’s Joan Guzman fighting next?’ ”

– @tqbr, Tim Starks of queensberry-rules.com, on the announced fight between Paul Williams and Kermit Cintron.

March 31, 6:03 p.m.: “this is no lie- and u cant make this stuff up- but Joan Guzman is here at the buffett. Seriously.”

– @stevemaxboxing, Steve Kim of maxboxing.com, at a buffet in Las Vegas prior to last week’s fights.

March 31, 6:06 p.m.: “that’s not surprising where else would he be -- the gym?”

– @411jroche, Joe Roche of 411mania.com, responding to Steve Kim.

March 31, 6:38 p.m.: “i just outlasted Joan Guzman at the Rio buffet but barely”

– @tkoboxing, Tuan Tran, vice president of TKO Boxing Promotions.

3.  Make an ass out of yourself, become the butt of jokes.

4.  Sad:

Thomas Hearns auctioning off boxing memorabilia and various vehicles – and a Nintendo GameCube, a coffee maker and 144 AA Batteries, among other items – to pay off money owed to the IRS for back taxes and to the bank that lent him money for his house.

Pitiful:

John Daly selling merchandise from a motor home outside of Augusta National Golf Club in Georgia during the week of the Masters.

5.  Meanwhile, let’s talk about something good from last week:

John Ruiz.

Yeah, you read that right.

The best fight I saw Saturday was the heavyweight title bout between David Haye and John Ruiz, which saw Haye retain his belt with a ninth-round technical knockout.

On a day when Bernard Hopkins and Roy Jones Jr. had more clutching and fouling than clean punching, Ruiz showed that he should no longer be labeled as an aesthetically displeasing clincher.

And on a day when Hopkins went down on all fours after two separate taps to the back of his head and another tap just below his beltline, Ruiz was forced to beat the count – a count! – after three different knockdowns that came following rabbit punches.

6.  As noted above, Bernard Hopkins briefly collapsed in the dressing room after his fight with Jones and was taking to the hospital for observation, according to reports.

If Hopkins was truly that badly hurt by what didn’t seem to be overly hurtful blows to the back of his head, then he should absolutely retire. There’s no need to even factor Hopkins’ increasingly ugly performances – health is everything.

As for Hopkins calling out David Haye? No, no, no. And that’s not even considering that Haye put far more into his rabbit punches against Ruiz than Roy Jones Jr. did against Hopkins.

7.  Two fighters with substance abuse issues – one current world titlist, one former world champion – are getting the help they need.

Edwin Valero has entered rehab in Venezuela for drug and alcohol addiction, according to the Associated Press. Valero most recently had a legal brouhaha over allegations he’d assaulted his wife. Valero’s wife said she’d fallen down the stairs, however, and charges were dropped.

Rocky Lockridge, meanwhile, has finished 90 days at a treatment center after an extended struggle with alcohol and crack cocaine, according to the Philadelphia Daily News. He had been homeless and living on the streets of Camden, N.J. Now he is four months into sobriety and is living in Louisiana. His case will be shown tonight (April 5) on A&E’s “Intervention.”

Professional athletes seem to exist only when they are performing or doing publicity. But they have lives outside of their arenas. Their struggles don’t just affect their livelihood (as with Valero), but have implications on their lives (as with Lockridge). Hopefully Valero will overcome his demons, and hopefully Lockridge will remain on his feet.

8.  Boxers Behaving Badly, part one: Sadly, one guy for whom no amount of help seems to make a difference is Johnny Tapia. 

The former three-division titlist tested positive last week for cocaine, according to the Albuquerque (N.M.) Journal. Tapia’s wife – who has been one to give her husband tough love – says the positive test is a result of a lidocaine treatment Tapia received for an ear infection.

“Can lidocaine cause a urinalysis to return a false positive for cocaine?” the newspaper article asks. “The Internet is alive with claims that it can. The Internet is alive with claims that it can’t.”

Tapia, 43, was undergoing urine tests as part of what is a form of house arrest that is letting him serve out the remainder of a one-year sentence handed down to him in September for a probation violation. Tapia was arrested in February 2009 after relapsing on cocaine. After some time behind bars he was released, but he was arrested again in July for violating probation by not getting permission before traveling. In September, he was sentenced to a year in jail.

He fought in March for the first time in three years. The win brought his record to 57-5-2 (29 knockouts).

9.  Boxers Behaving Badly, part two: Undefeated lightweight prospect Adrien Broner has been charged with robbery after an alleged purse snatching, according to The Cincinnati Enquirer.

Broner and an accomplice are accused of punching a woman in the face on March 9 and taking $40 from her purse. Broner is out on bail, with a pre-trial court hearing scheduled for April 15. If convicted of the misdemeanor charge, Broner faces up to 180 days in jail.

Broner, 20, is 14-0 with 11 knockouts. His last appearance was in January, a fourth-round knockout. He was originally scheduled to fight this past Saturday, but that didn’t happen, best I can tell.

10.  Purse snatching, huh? I thought that was just a euphemism for what happened to Don King’s fighters’ paychecks…

David P. Greisman is a member of the Boxing Writers Association of America. His weekly column, “Fighting Words,” appears every Monday on BoxingScene.com. He may be reached for questions and comments at fightingwords1@gmail.com