Tweet
by David P. Greisman - These are the closing credits of “the Human Highlight Reel.”
Forty-nine fights. Forty wins. Thirty-one knockouts. Titles in two weight classes. Nearly two dozen appearances on HBO. Four fights-of-the-year.
Countless excitement.
Arturo Gatti built his reputation on giving everything he had and never giving up, on taking punishment and then digging into his huge reservoir of heart to return fire in an attempt to pull out a miracle.
There was Gatti, twice convincing the ringside physician that he could see well enough for the fight to continue, then rising from the stool to drop Wilson Rodriguez with a body shot in the fifth and finally putting him down for the count in the sixth. There was Gatti, his head bobbing up and down from Gabe Ruelas’ uppercuts, blood coming from below his left eye, ending the fight with a left hook that seemed to come out of left field. Fans flocked to his fights, where they became accustomed to seeing Gatti take far too many shots, to seeing his face swollen and the odds lengthened.
But not like this.
Not like how Gatti looked wobbling drunkenly toward his corner after six rounds of being surgically dismantled by Floyd Mayweather Jr. When then-trainer Buddy McGirt told Gatti that he was stopping the fight, Gatti protested out of pride, asking for one more round, but he ultimately stayed on his stool, his head cradled within McGirt’s arms.
Not like how Gatti looked in the ninth round against Carlos Baldomir, a left hook sending Gatti crumbling forward onto the canvas, from where he needed the ropes to lift himself up. The second knockdown saw Gatti fall flat on his back, and that was where he stayed, tired, trounced.
And not like how Gatti looked Saturday against Alfonso Gomez, when Gatti’s feet worked but not his fists, when there would be few of those desperate bombs thrown in hopes of a comeback, when New Jersey State Athletic Control Board chief Larry Hazzard Sr. had to step up into the ring to stop the bloodletting himself. Hazzard’s actions also ended the career of a local favorite, a fighter who had appeared nine straight times at Atlantic City’s Boardwalk Hall and 30 times in the state.
This is the opening scene of “the Human Highlight Reel.”
May 18, 2002. The Mohegan Sun casino in Uncasville, Conn. It is the ninth round of Arturo Gatti’s first war with Micky Ward. The momentum has repeatedly shifted over the course of the previous eight stanzas. This round would prove no different.
Ward came out fast, dropping Gatti in the opening seconds with his trademark combination of a left hook upstairs followed by a left hook to the liver. Gatti, wincing, rose from his right knee at the count of nine, only to get chased around the ring by a Ward looking to close things out.
Ward punched himself out, however, and Gatti came back with thudding body shots, vicious left hooks and stiff right crosses. This time, it was Gatti who expended too much energy, and Ward had recovered enough to leave Gatti reeling and essentially defenseless on the ropes.
HBO blow-by-blow announcer Jim Lampley called for referee Frank Cappuccino to step in and stop things, but the third man in the ring let the other two continue. Gatti, arms at his sides, stayed on his feet to finish off one of the sport’s best rounds in one of the sport’s best fights.
Flash back to previous years. Gatti’s career is a mix of highs and lows. A rise toward junior lightweight contention and a two-year title run. Three straight losses, one to Angel Manfredy and two to Ivan Robinson. Four straight wins that led him into a fight with Oscar De La Hoya, who made Gatti’s corner throw in the towel. Ten months off, followed by a stoppage of Terron Millett that began Gatti’s rebirth.
The great trilogy of fights with Ward not only cemented Gatti as a true entertainer, but it also launched the final phase of his career in which he would seek to show the boxing world that he could be a legitimate contender, too. [details]
Forty-nine fights. Forty wins. Thirty-one knockouts. Titles in two weight classes. Nearly two dozen appearances on HBO. Four fights-of-the-year.
Countless excitement.
Arturo Gatti built his reputation on giving everything he had and never giving up, on taking punishment and then digging into his huge reservoir of heart to return fire in an attempt to pull out a miracle.
There was Gatti, twice convincing the ringside physician that he could see well enough for the fight to continue, then rising from the stool to drop Wilson Rodriguez with a body shot in the fifth and finally putting him down for the count in the sixth. There was Gatti, his head bobbing up and down from Gabe Ruelas’ uppercuts, blood coming from below his left eye, ending the fight with a left hook that seemed to come out of left field. Fans flocked to his fights, where they became accustomed to seeing Gatti take far too many shots, to seeing his face swollen and the odds lengthened.
But not like this.
Not like how Gatti looked wobbling drunkenly toward his corner after six rounds of being surgically dismantled by Floyd Mayweather Jr. When then-trainer Buddy McGirt told Gatti that he was stopping the fight, Gatti protested out of pride, asking for one more round, but he ultimately stayed on his stool, his head cradled within McGirt’s arms.
Not like how Gatti looked in the ninth round against Carlos Baldomir, a left hook sending Gatti crumbling forward onto the canvas, from where he needed the ropes to lift himself up. The second knockdown saw Gatti fall flat on his back, and that was where he stayed, tired, trounced.
And not like how Gatti looked Saturday against Alfonso Gomez, when Gatti’s feet worked but not his fists, when there would be few of those desperate bombs thrown in hopes of a comeback, when New Jersey State Athletic Control Board chief Larry Hazzard Sr. had to step up into the ring to stop the bloodletting himself. Hazzard’s actions also ended the career of a local favorite, a fighter who had appeared nine straight times at Atlantic City’s Boardwalk Hall and 30 times in the state.
This is the opening scene of “the Human Highlight Reel.”
May 18, 2002. The Mohegan Sun casino in Uncasville, Conn. It is the ninth round of Arturo Gatti’s first war with Micky Ward. The momentum has repeatedly shifted over the course of the previous eight stanzas. This round would prove no different.
Ward came out fast, dropping Gatti in the opening seconds with his trademark combination of a left hook upstairs followed by a left hook to the liver. Gatti, wincing, rose from his right knee at the count of nine, only to get chased around the ring by a Ward looking to close things out.
Ward punched himself out, however, and Gatti came back with thudding body shots, vicious left hooks and stiff right crosses. This time, it was Gatti who expended too much energy, and Ward had recovered enough to leave Gatti reeling and essentially defenseless on the ropes.
HBO blow-by-blow announcer Jim Lampley called for referee Frank Cappuccino to step in and stop things, but the third man in the ring let the other two continue. Gatti, arms at his sides, stayed on his feet to finish off one of the sport’s best rounds in one of the sport’s best fights.
Flash back to previous years. Gatti’s career is a mix of highs and lows. A rise toward junior lightweight contention and a two-year title run. Three straight losses, one to Angel Manfredy and two to Ivan Robinson. Four straight wins that led him into a fight with Oscar De La Hoya, who made Gatti’s corner throw in the towel. Ten months off, followed by a stoppage of Terron Millett that began Gatti’s rebirth.
The great trilogy of fights with Ward not only cemented Gatti as a true entertainer, but it also launched the final phase of his career in which he would seek to show the boxing world that he could be a legitimate contender, too. [details]
Comment