By Thomas Gerbasi

There will be no 24/7 countdowns for Israel Vazquez. No bling, no record labels, no promotional companies, no high-profile endorsement deals and few, if any, magazine covers. He probably won’t complain either, as complaining isn’t a part of the Warrior’s Code.

But for all the attention paid to the high-profile likes of Floyd Mayweather, Manny Pacquiao, Ricky Hatton, and Oscar De La Hoya, the Mexico City native, along with his countryman and partner in fistic crime for the last three years, Rafael Marquez, can rest easy at night knowing that they, in fact, were the ones who “saved” boxing.

Sure, they don’t trash talk with the glib ease of a “Money” Mayweather, don’t run for political office like Pacquiao, enjoy the complete adulation of a nation like Hatton, or have the matinee idol looks and crossover appeal of the sport’s mainstream savior, De La Hoya, but Vazquez and Marquez have made it safe to say that you’re still a boxing fan. On three special nights in 2007 and 2008, they did what most claim to do but few live up to – they “left it all” in the ring.

“I think we surprised everybody with how great the first three fights were,” said Vazquez during a media teleconference to promote this Saturday’s fourth meeting between the two. “No one expected them to be so great. We surprised everybody and we surprised ourselves. And more than anything we treated the fans. I still get stopped in the street and people say, ‘Hey, are you going to fight him again?’ and ‘When are you going to fight him again?’ So I have to thank the fans because without them there wouldn’t be a fourth fight.”

But when is too much too much? Has going to the well over and over for nearly 25 rounds drained Vazquez and Marquez of everything that made them special in the first place?

That’s the key question entering this weekend’s bout at STAPLES Center in Los Angeles; not whether they can keep up the pace they have already set, but whether their zest for battle with each other has come with a price that will keep them out of the running for future world title shots at 126 pounds or may even shorten their careers – if that hasn’t already happened. Vazquez has a particularly bright spotlight on him considering his surgery for a detached retina suffered in the third Marquez fight and his less than stellar performance in a late round knockout of journeyman Angel Priolo in his comeback fight last October. But as you would expect, he insists that he is no worse for wear entering his fourth meeting with Marquez.

“I’ve had big fights that have taken a lot out of me but I still feel good,” said Vazquez. “I feel fine going into the ring and that’s why I’m still fighting. Obviously you get motivated by the fans and you get motivated by the money. I’m finally making some good money now. If I can feel the way I feel now I’ll keep fighting till I’m 50 years old. But I still feel good physically.”

And far be it from me to turn my nose up at another chance to see two of this era’s finest lower weight fighters compete against each other, especially given the fact that their blood, sweat, and tears have not only entertained, but captivated enough people to allow them to make the type of paydays they’ve deserved for years. And given the current state of the sport, if Vazquez and Marquez fought each other every week, we would be seeing boxing coverage on the front page and not in the transactions section. But…should there be some sense of guilt for bringing them back one more time in what will undoubtedly be another war? Diego Corrales was never the same after his war with Jose Luis Castillo. The same goes for Muhammad Ali after the Thrilla in Manila against Joe Frazier, and when you’ve met someone in the ring who knows you as well as you know yourself, it should be a chess match, but it’s not – it’s a situation where you take whatever you have and throw it at your opponent as a challenge, as if to say ‘If you know me so well, stop me.’

“We know each other very well,” concurs Vazquez. “We know each other’s strengths and we know each other’s weaknesses. And it’s our job to do what we have to do and it’s our job to prevent the other guy from doing what they have to do. I see it as a positive. It can be a negative as well but I see it as a positive. I know his tendencies. I know where to attack him from. The negatives you can always correct them. You can go back and fix what you didn’t do right. How well are we going to be able to execute what we’ve been working on? And how will we hold up physically? How much did those past fight take out of us? Those are the questions that will be answered.”
 
At this level of prizefighting, there are no cowards. Say what you will about those who shy away from trench warfare, who lose their nerve at the sight of their own blood, or who don’t have the desire to walk through that invisible wall and say that they’re willing to risk everything for victory. It’s okay – once you’ve walked up those four steps into the ring, you’ve made your point as a man. But for those like Vazquez and Marquez, who have made that silent agreement to punch each other as hard as they can and to accept such a response in return, to put all thoughts of future and family aside in the name of pride, sport, and honor, you have to bow your head just a little – first as a sign of humble admiration, and second for a prayer that life after boxing won’t be as cruel to them as those three minute rounds can be.

But when you question real fighters like Vazquez about such matters, you get a typical response.

“My motivation is to shut those naysayers’ mouths,” he said. “They say I shouldn’t be fighting anymore. I want to shut their mouths and let them know that I can still make great fights. One thing I know is that Rafa and I might be in wheelchairs one day but we’ll still be throwing punches and battling from our wheelchairs.”

It brings to mind a conversation I had back in 2001 with former world champion Junior Jones – no stranger to lower weight wars himself – when he was looking to make one more run at glory against the advice of others.

“You care about what people say,” said Jones. “I respect people’s opinions, but they told me that I should have hung them up before I fought (Marco Antonio) Barrera. If I would have listened I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to beat him twice. Some people care about your well-being, and other people pretend that they know everything about boxing when they don’t know what they’re talking about. Some people covered it for so many years and wrote about it, and they don’t know what it is to be a fighter and be in there. Some people really do care about me. Either way, I respect it. I respect the fans, I respect what the boxing writers say, but you’ve got to let me live my life and let me do what I feel comfortable doing. I can’t lie to myself. I can lie to you and everybody else, but if I lie to myself it’s no good, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

With that said, it’s enough – at least for me – to put aside any concerns and get ready for Saturday night. Israel Vazquez and Rafael Marquez are grown men, and with their fists, their blood, and their courage, they have earned the right not only to fight, but to fight each other.

“I believe our rivalry is far and above the best rivalries ever for one reason - outside the ring, both of us totally respect each other as human beings. And that counts a lot to me. But when it’s time to fight, you know we will put forth nothing less than an all-out effort. We’ve done it three straight times and I expect the same from both of us on Saturday. With the three fights we’ve already had, I think Marquez and I have already solidified our legacy. But they asked if we wanted to do it again, so of course, I said sure. Why not? If the fans want this fight, so do I.”

We do. And thank you. For the great fights. And for saving boxing.