By Jim Cawkwell
The cameras rolled as ever they did around Ricky Hatton, but this was no media engagement. SKY television encroached into his dressing room as he underwent final preparations for a main event; they saw that the switch had already been flipped. Gone was the affable lad quick to joke or offer a favorable quote for one of his contemporaries; in his place was an altogether different creature, trained to destroy whoever dared step in his path.
The interviewer went through the standard questions, and the buzz intensified as time drew nearer to the fight. Without pretension, Hatton took a moment from his pad-work and said, “It’s time to put the kids to bed,” indicating that he was about to unleash a performance not suitable for innocent eyes.
This was long before he was tempted from England - where his foundation was laid - to America. British networks chronicled his growth before Showtime began to screen what they deemed were his significant fights. Finally, when Hatton’s achievements matched the depth of his potential, HBO reached for its checkbook.
HBO doesn’t build legends; it gathers and stores them. Hatton is now just one of a dozen championship caliber fighters whom HBO juggle throughout each year. The routine injuries and postponements aside, competing for dates amongst such a talent laden roster makes Hatton’s pursuit of a busier schedule impossible.
Throughout his progression in England, Hatton fought once each quarter. 2006 is the first of his ten professional years that he will have fought just once. This is an untenable position for a fighter whose activity level is central to alleviating his well documented struggle to make weight.
Compounding this problem, Hatton has the issue of credibility to address. As a foreigner fighting on American soil, Hatton must win convincingly, but each of his major championship fights - screened to American audiences - have produced messy performances that contradict the reviews of Hatton broadcast by those that know him better.
Smothering Kostya Tszyu was necessary, as all of Tszyu’s power was held at the end of his straight right. Looking good against the awkward style of Carlos Maussa is not even considerable. But Hatton underestimated the threat of Luis Collazo at welterweight, was shaken by Collazo’s supposedly mediocre power, and was forced to fight within himself in what was supposed to be the night he affirmed his position to a cynical American audience.
Hatton was right to concede his own illegitimacy as a welterweight; however, doing so, and neglecting to offer Collazo the immediate rematch that is usually a given after such competitive affairs, leaves Hatton’s credibility open to criticism. It seems that having fought long to prove his worth, Hatton has work yet to do to justify his current position as one of world boxing’s leading attractions.
The first step is a return to the light welterweight division to regain his IBF title from Colombian Juan Urango. Perceived as the beneficiary of a wayward decision in his title winning effort, Urango himself has drawn much skepticism; hardly the ideal opponent to begin a revision of Hatton’s image in the eyes of his critics.
But the nature of Hatton’s performance against Urango will be of greater concern. Urango is a southpaw - ever the bane of Hatton’s career - but one without the guile and subtleties that would prevent Hatton from finally revealing his true self: a fighter of irrepressible aggression with impeccable talent to match.
Though America has yet to see it, Hatton, like any technician, can control a fight with a jab that rarely misses while selecting the perfect series of punches to penetrate an opponent’s defense.
Hatton has returned to his optimum weight, but must also remember his mastery of timing and distance, and the variety that would see him doubling hooks upstairs and down from the left before squaring up and delivering another barrage from the right.
Of course, Hatton’s courage has often been his only means of defense, but his disregard for his own safety has endeared him to boxing fans.
Discounting the possibility that Urango can entirely reinvent himself between now and January, Hatton has the stage to demonstrate the full spectrum of his talent. However, a victory over Urango without a distinguishing performance is a worrying prospect. It may indicate that Hatton has thoroughly forsaken his natural gifts in blind pursuit of a knockout that would arrive sooner with the utilization of all his skills.
That might be enough to relieve Urango of a championship, and notch another uninterrupted win on Hatton’s record. But it will not be enough against the man expected to oppose Hatton by mid-2007: Jose Luis Castillo.
Known to neglect his own considerable boxing ability in favor of warfare, Castillo has made his home in the very place that fighters such as Hatton wonder if they can survive. It’s an environment that some fighters would rather not experience.
The controversies surrounding Castillo’s failure to make weight for the third Diego Corrales fight, the financial damage that did to those involved, and their subsequent attempts to extract a measure of revenge over Castillo via lawsuits for their inconvenience do nothing to diminish Castillo’s qualities as a fighter.
Hatton-Castillo is as good as it gets, and win, lose, or draw, Hatton must know it is the defining fight that people will remember long after his retirement. Both men have the ability to make the fight easier for themselves, but they won’t. They won’t make a business decision to spare themselves for another time. That they will give everything they have is not debatable; exactly who will win is not such a certainty.
Part of Castillo’s “punishment” as decreed by the Nevada State Athletic Commission is that he is no longer allowed to compete any lower than 140-pounds. Unofficially, he’s been fighting at 140-pounds for the last year.
The commission’s instilling of such a directive should prevent Castillo’s involvement in another weight controversy, and frees him to fight at what may be his optimum weight. With Hatton’s self-confinement to the same division, neither holds an advantage.
Both are scheduled to fight in January before their potential showdown later in the year. Castillo is likely to fight at least one other time before the end of this year in Mexico where he remains unbound by the Nevada restrictions.
Though neither man holds concussive power, their strength is in the sheer volume and intensity of their attacks. The unrelenting grind of Castillo against Juan Lazcano was like watching a car crash in slow motion: nothing you could do about it, and it just got worse the longer you looked and feared that Lazcano might not emerge the same.
The power of Hatton’s will seems just as intimidating. So many have failed to handle his overwhelming stamina, and for every crushing blow dealt to him by another fighter, he’s offered an emphatic answer.
In the end, it will come down to the intangibles.
Hatton defied logic once before, but Tszyu was old, becoming disinterested with his dominance and had never prevailed in the type of fight that Hatton had focused and waited his entire career to unveil.
History tells us that Castillo’s legend is that of a man capable of ruining other fighters. Lazcano, Julio “Kidd” Diaz, Corrales, Cesar Bazan, Joel Casamayor, all have fought Castillo and none have appeared exactly the same afterwards. Even if Hatton were to win, it is likely that he would sacrifice an irretrievable piece of himself in doing so.
To beat Castillo on his own ground, Hatton would have to endure pain the like of which he’s never felt and find it within him to face it and deal out greater punishment.
Whether he can do so is one of the big questions fight fans will ask as we enter 2007. That he is willing to try should answer many of the questions already surrounding him.
Contact Jim Cawkwell at jimcawkwell@yahoo.co.uk