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After he beats Kermit Cintron on Saturday night, Paul Williams stands to be the next great American boxing star, perhaps even a superstar.
For Paul Williams, the time is now.
Forget all the talk of being the “most feared fighter”; after Saturday night, other than Manny Pacquiao vs. Floyd Mayweather, Williams’ name will have to be mentioned in every discussion of potentially big fights in the welter-to-middleweight divisions. If it is not, then something is seriously wrong in the sport of boxing, which is far too often true this day.
“We were forced out of 147 because nobody wanted to fight us,” said trainer George Peterson. With the possible fights at that weight now, they are being forced back in.
Williams is the kind of fighter American fans love; exciting, busy, and throws (and takes) a ton of hard punches. “It’s nothing but blood, sweat and tears,” says Williams.
Preach to me all day the virtues of a fight where a boxer efficiently and surgically dissects his opponent to win a “tactical” decision. Save your breath; I’ll take a “Bazooka” Limon vs. Bobby Chacon bloodbath any day of the week. I love the blood, the sweat, the tears.
But the greatest reason for Williams’ future stardom might come from what he is not.
He is not Floyd Mayweather. In several ways, he is the “anti-Floyd.”
He throws more punches in five rounds than Mayweather does an entire fight, all the while not afraid to take a punch from the best of them.
He cares about being the best fighter in the world, not the richest fighter in the world.
He’s not a shameless self-promoter, and has never claimed to be better than Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Robinson.
He never dodges a tough opponent.
He ventures out in public without a half-dozen bodyguards; and all without a whiff of trouble outside the ring, from himself or Peterson.
A former cop, Peterson is one of the good guys in boxing, a stand-up guy from day one. He is old-school. When talking of big fights, you can hear the frustration, especially when asked about moving up in weight, “People ask, ‘how about 168?’ I say ‘how about 147?’”
Of becoming a star, Williams joked, “I was hoping to get there on my smile.” But his frustration is evident as well. “When Martinez beat Pavlik, I thought there’d be talk of a rematch with me; instead, all they talked about was Margarito.”
When Margarito, a disgraced, suspended fighter, who got beaten like a rented mule by Shane Mosley in his last outing, can get a big fight before Paul Williams, there is definitely something wrong with the sport of boxing.
Conversely, Williams and Peterson are easy to cheer for, the kind of guys working men and women admire. That nose-to-the-grindstone, lunch-pail mentality.
They both know that if they just keep winning, their time will come. As I ran through the list of potential opponents for Paul Williams, without hesitation he said, “yes” to each of them, without qualification to weight, or money.
“Anytime, anywhere,” said Williams. “Anytime, anywhere.”
In today’s world of boxing, how refreshing is that?
For Paul Williams, the time is now.
Forget all the talk of being the “most feared fighter”; after Saturday night, other than Manny Pacquiao vs. Floyd Mayweather, Williams’ name will have to be mentioned in every discussion of potentially big fights in the welter-to-middleweight divisions. If it is not, then something is seriously wrong in the sport of boxing, which is far too often true this day.
“We were forced out of 147 because nobody wanted to fight us,” said trainer George Peterson. With the possible fights at that weight now, they are being forced back in.
Williams is the kind of fighter American fans love; exciting, busy, and throws (and takes) a ton of hard punches. “It’s nothing but blood, sweat and tears,” says Williams.
Preach to me all day the virtues of a fight where a boxer efficiently and surgically dissects his opponent to win a “tactical” decision. Save your breath; I’ll take a “Bazooka” Limon vs. Bobby Chacon bloodbath any day of the week. I love the blood, the sweat, the tears.
But the greatest reason for Williams’ future stardom might come from what he is not.
He is not Floyd Mayweather. In several ways, he is the “anti-Floyd.”
He throws more punches in five rounds than Mayweather does an entire fight, all the while not afraid to take a punch from the best of them.
He cares about being the best fighter in the world, not the richest fighter in the world.
He’s not a shameless self-promoter, and has never claimed to be better than Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Robinson.
He never dodges a tough opponent.
He ventures out in public without a half-dozen bodyguards; and all without a whiff of trouble outside the ring, from himself or Peterson.
A former cop, Peterson is one of the good guys in boxing, a stand-up guy from day one. He is old-school. When talking of big fights, you can hear the frustration, especially when asked about moving up in weight, “People ask, ‘how about 168?’ I say ‘how about 147?’”
Of becoming a star, Williams joked, “I was hoping to get there on my smile.” But his frustration is evident as well. “When Martinez beat Pavlik, I thought there’d be talk of a rematch with me; instead, all they talked about was Margarito.”
When Margarito, a disgraced, suspended fighter, who got beaten like a rented mule by Shane Mosley in his last outing, can get a big fight before Paul Williams, there is definitely something wrong with the sport of boxing.
Conversely, Williams and Peterson are easy to cheer for, the kind of guys working men and women admire. That nose-to-the-grindstone, lunch-pail mentality.
They both know that if they just keep winning, their time will come. As I ran through the list of potential opponents for Paul Williams, without hesitation he said, “yes” to each of them, without qualification to weight, or money.
“Anytime, anywhere,” said Williams. “Anytime, anywhere.”
In today’s world of boxing, how refreshing is that?