by David P. Greisman
There would be no heartbreak if not for the closeness that precedes it and the distance felt following its abrupt arrival.
It is a shock to the system, unfortunately unforeseen, unsettlingly unstoppable. Happiness drains. Emptiness reigns.
We have hobbies, and those hobbies produce heroes, people whose fame, talents and perceived personalities produce such emotional connections despite the division between celebrities and commoners.
It is why large crowds showed to mourn Michael Jackson, whose death one man was quoted as comparing to the assassination of President Kennedy – “I will always remember being in Times Square when Michael Jackson died,” the man told the Associated Press.
With actors, with singers and with dignitaries, grief results from death, from the person no longer being. With individual athletes, heartbreak comes from the person no longer being what we remember them being.
In no sport is that decline more immediate and more evident than boxing. We who are boxing fans all derive pleasure from the sport as a whole. But we all then become fans of certain boxers, investing extra emotion and attention, at first living vicariously through their victories, then later suffering sympathetically after their losses.
It can happen as quickly as a knockout, shattering the aura of invincibility. It can be painfully prolonged, with deteriorating skills leaving them shells of themselves. A fighter can recover much more easily from the setback of getting beat than he can from getting beat up and shellacked.
It begins as an eye-opener, the realization that the flame is flickering and the torch is being passed.
Witness Roy Jones Jr. knocked off his perch and his feet with a single left hand from Antonio Tarver. See a fighter once known for his awesome speed rendered unable to move by Glen Johnson.
Watch Felix Trinidad get out-boxed and then stopped by Bernard Hopkins. See the mythical Mike Tyson proven mortal against Buster Douglas. Look on as Kostya Tszyu remained in his corner against Ricky Hatton and then never fights again.
Your world is turned upside-down watching world champions suddenly on the downslide. You must recognize the new reality, even as you struggle to accept it. And then you must wait for rock bottom before the worst is over.
What began as an eye-opener becomes something for which you wish you could close your eyes.
Like Muhammad Ali, nearly 39, long past his best years, taking far too much punishment against Larry Holmes.
Like Roy Jones, losing all but one round to Joe Calzaghe.
Like Jones, losing in less than a round to Danny Green.
Like Felix Trinidad, returning and then retiring and then returning and then retiring, out-boxed over 12 rounds by Winky Wright and then carried over 12 rounds by the aging Roy Jones.
Like Fernando Vargas, once precocious, now portly, losing to a handpicked opponent in Ricardo Mayorga, the same handpicked opponent other returning fighters (Felix Trinidad, Oscar De La Hoya) had been able to take out.
Like Mike Tyson, once the baddest man on the planet, getting beaten into submission first by a champion in Lennox Lewis, then by a fringe contender in Danny Williams, and finally by a journeyman in Kevin McBride.
Like Jermain Taylor, vowing to continue his career despite suffering four losses, three by brutal knockout, in his last five fights.
Like Diego Corrales, unable to make lightweight anymore, unable to make junior welterweight, stepping up to the welterweight division and getting dismantled by Joshua Clottey.
Like Arturo Gatti learning that unlimited heart could not compensate for limited speed and skill against Floyd Mayweather Jr. He could earn a world title but would never be world class.
Like Gatti learning that power and guts could not overcome the size and timing of Carlos Baldomir. He had been bigger than junior welterweights but could no longer make that weight limit. He would be too small to beat welterweights.
Like Gatti learning that all the punishment he had been willing to take in order to dish it out had left him far less able to do either against Alfonso Gomez. He had lost to the pound-for-pound best in Mayweather, lost to a transitional champion in Baldomir, and then lost to Gomez, an opponent who would never belong near the top of a division.
That Gatti knew when it was time to retire saved him from becoming the sad spectacle seen with other declining fighters who never earned top dollar or never saved their keep. They are those measuring sticks seen in crossroad fights, names such as Antwun Echols and Kevin Kelley. Men like them market their remaining recognition even as they fail to recognize that the end had long come.
Heartbreak will happen. It will take away that which is comfortable and certain and do so at a time when you are least expecting it and least prepared to deal with it. What once had made you feel content is gone – a sudden dearth.
It stuns. It hurts.
And then we move on.
We move on to new prospects, only some of whom pan out.
We move on to new fascinations, some of whom we lose interest in.
We move on to new loves, giving them the kind of emotion and attention we had been scared to give for fear of being hurt again.
We live vicariously through their victories and hold them close in the hope they’ll go far before they, too, go for good.
The 10 Count
1. Tweets of the Week: What moment in boxing had broken others’ heart? Some responses:
“recently I’d say…Tarvers KO of Jones….and Margacheatos destruction of Cotto…..” – @TheFightGuy
“When Hagler was robbed and the coward Leonard refused to give him a rematch” – @MaxDestiny
My (@fightingwords2) Take: Jones’ and Cotto’s losses were recent, in 2004 and 2009. But heartbreak affects each person differently. Our dear MaxDestiny, for example, has been carrying the same torch for 20 years.
2. Admittedly, I haven’t cast a wide net looking for it, but a quick Web search appears to show that headline writers absolutely dropped the ball last week on the worst pun possible for relating the news that 30-year-old former 122-pound titlist Bernard Dunne had retired.
“Dunne Done.”
3. Boxers Behaving Badly: Former heavyweight titlist Oliver McCall was arrested last week on drug charges, according to South Florida television station WFOR/CBS4.
McCall, 44, has been charged with cocaine possession, possession of drug paraphernalia, and violating his probation. He was arrested Feb. 13. As of last Monday (Feb. 15), he was still being held in jail on $1,000 bail.
McCall has been “arrested several times for cocaine possession” since 1996, according to the report.
He knocked out Lennox Lewis in September 1995 to capture a heavyweight world title, losing it after having a mental breakdown in his rematch with Lewis in February 1997. He has a record of 54-9 (37 knockouts) and is still fighting – he was scheduled to face Zuri Lawrence in Florida last week. That bout was canceled, of course, following McCall’s arrest.
4. Who had a worse week:
Oliver McCall, who was in cuffs instead of involved in fisticuffs?
Or his son, Elijah McCall, who was moved into the main event in Florida and was knocked out in four rounds?
5. Boxers Behaving Badly update, part one: Two weeks after filing for a protective order against Evander Holyfield, the wife of the former heavyweight champion, Candi Holyfield, has dropped her request, according to RadarOnline.com.
The couple flew to Los Angeles this weekend to sit down for help with television personality/former psychologist Dr. Phil.
You read that right.
Candi Holyfield had filed for the protective order Feb. 3, two days after Evander allegedly struck her face, her back and the back of her head. She says he wanted her to prove she’d been donating money to their church. She also accused Holyfield of choking her in 2008 in front of their daughter and, in 2009, hitting and grabbing her in front of their kids. No criminal charges have been filed.
Evander is 47. Candi is 30. They’ve been married since 2003 and have two children together. Evander reportedly has 11 children.
Holyfield last fought in December 2008, dropping a majority decision to Nikolay Valuev. His record is 42-10-2 with 27 knockout victories.
6. Are Evander Holyfield and Dr. Phil the two most famous bald men the United States with mustaches but no beards?
To quote George Carlin, “These are the things I think about when I’m sitting home alone and the power goes out.”
7. Boxers Behaving Badly update, part two: Retired welterweight Eamonn Magee has been sentenced to six months in prison after being found guilty of assaulting a man in a social club in Northern Island, according to BBC News.
The man had asked Magee, 38, to leave the club this past August. Magee responded by head butting the man, busting the man’s nose. Magee claimed the man was drunk and had shoved him three times. He also claimed he was attacked by as many as 15 people after the confrontation.
Magee got three months for the assault and another three months that came from a suspended sentence for driving offenses. He has appealed the conviction and is out on bail.
Magee fought in the 140- and 147-pound divisions, holding national pro titles and being the first person to knock Ricky Hatton down. Magee lost to Hatton and five other fighters. After a May 2007 loss to Kevin Anderson, Magee left the sport with a record of 27-6 (18 knockouts).
8. Boxing Promoters Behaving Badly: Oswaldo Kuchle Lopez, a resident of Juarez, Mexico, who promotes fighters in his home country, was arrested last week in Texas and charged with six counts of fraud, according to the El Paso Times.
Lopez, 37, has been charged with two counts each of conspiracy to commit fraud and wire fraud, and one count each of bank fraud and making false statements to obtain credit. He allegedly caused about $2.2 million in losses to a bank. The actual details of how he did it are a bit too procedural for this space.
Among the fighters Lopez promotes, according to the newspaper, are Javier Castro, Carlos Contreras and Miguel Roman.
9. “POST-HASTE,” would read the headline if the New York Post were to cover the silly, stupid error its “Page Six” writers made last week with their blurb prematurely announcing some scoop under the line “Mike Tyson to be voted into Boxing Hall of Fame.”
Uh, not yet.
As I pointed out on a message board earlier last week, and as BoxingScene’s own Lee Groves (welcome aboard, Lee!) wrote in an article last week: Tyson’s name hasn’t even been on the ballot yet.
Tyson last fought in June 2005. Boxers become eligible for induction five years after retiring. The 2010 ballots – for induction at the 2011 ceremony – will see voting take place in October.
Tyson will likely be one of the top three vote getters and be inducted. Other names that should enter the ballot this year (and in the Hall next year): Julio Cesar Chavez and Kostya Tszyu.
10. And no, I’m not taking aim at the New York Post just because its boxing writer, George Willis, calls his column “Fighting Words.”
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
