By Matthew Hurley
That’s it. There will be no more passive shrugs of the shoulder from this corner in regards to Vitali Klitschko and his claims to heavyweight supremacy. Forget the fact that Ring Magazine recognizes him as their champion – I’m sure they’re pretty annoyed with the lumbering Ukrainian who can’t seem to keep his body healthy enough to defend his plastic championship belt.
Athletes get hurt, but champions fight through the pain. Klitschko’s postponing of his defense against Hasim Rahman yet again is unbecoming of an apparent champion.
Is it just me or does Vitali Klitschko remind you of that kid in high school who had all the physical gifts to succeed at any sport he tried, but none of the heart of the scrawny kid on the bench, who was always passed over, and never got the opportunity to show?
In no other sport does a fighting heart mean more than overall talent than boxing. So overwhelming is the struggle to get that shot at glory that true fighters ignore injury because they live with the knowledge that one lucky punch, one money shot, may only happen one specific night. Catching lightening in a bottle is something every fighter dreams of. They fight on and on for that night. Vitali Klitschko says he’s a man of that desperation, but Hasim Rahman, despite any fistic deficiency, lives that reality. And Klitschko keeps snatching his moment away from him.
Vitali Klitschko is a joke. There I said it. I’m tired of this guy and I’m not the only one. Hasim Rahman is so tired of this guy and his excuses that he can’t even seem to get really angry anymore. His time is passing him by because this big galoot won’t grant him what is mandated by the organization that has established him as a heavyweight champion. I say, strip this phony of his belt and then maybe, MAYBE, he’ll climb into the ring to get it back. Maybe some pride does beat in that hollow chest of his.
I refuse to grant Vitali Klitschko any more passes. In fact, I refuse to grant any heavyweight a pass. From now on each and every one of them better buckle down and fight their hearts out. If I ever come across a young buck who wants to be heavyweight champion, or just a respectable heavyweight fighter, and he seeks my advice the first thing I will do is strap him into a chair, clamp his eyelids open ala Clockwork Orange, and make him watch the lighter weight fighters swing away for hours on end. From Roberto Duran to Thomas Hearns to Marvin Hagler and then back down to Erik Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera and then up to Diego Corrales and Jose Luis Castillo. And then when this overweight wannabe can’t take it anymore I’ll put on tapes of Aaron Pryor and Meldrick Taylor. I’ll make this clod see what it truly takes to be a fighter.
The last article I wrote dealt with Klitschko’s fight with Rahman and how I simply couldn’t get excited about it, and yet was still hoping these two guys would suck it up and bring back some needed luster to a rancid heavyweight division. “We can only hope,” I wrote, almost half-heartedly. And now this.
It really shouldn’t surprise any of us. This is the fourth time Klitschko has postponed his mandatory defense against Rahman. Maybe he knows something we don’t. Injuries can be psychosomatic of a deeper problem. Perhaps this awkward, lumbering so-called champion, a fighter who can’t even bend his knees to let them shake, is scared of Hasim Rahman. I never would have even entertained that notion a year ago, but now this phony belt holder has tap danced on my last nerve.
No more free passes for Dr. Strangelove at this address. He’s been screwing with us for too long now. Until he sets foot in the ring against Hasim Rahman this so-called champion will forever be persona non grata at the Hurley residence.
Can you even imagine Evander Holyfield pulling out of a fight because his back hurt? A knee injury? Holyfield would tape that thing up and ignore the pain. Can you imagine Muhammad Ali or Larry Holmes pulling out of a title defense against anyone twice, let alone four times? They would think it was unbecoming – not of the championship but of their own sense of pride and ego. Can you imagine Joe Louis or Rocky Marciano allowing the public to question their courage?
Being called the heavyweight champion of the world meant something to guys like Holyfield, Ali, Holmes, Louis and Marciano. There was an innate belief that they were the toughest sons-of-bitches on the planet and nothing, not an injury or a personal problem or an opponent would get in their way of reestablishing their greatness. I don’t get that sense from Vitali Klitschko.
And until he proves me wrong he will forever be a pretender to the throne in my book.
