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THE ENEMY WITHIN
By Mike Swann
I’m off to Tampa today to cover the Roy Jones Jr. - Antonio Tarver III clash on Saturday. Because of my flight schedule, it is unlikely that I will arrive in time to attend Roy’s portion of the press conference, scheduled for noon. Since Jones has yet to appear for a press conference, this might turn out to be a brilliant tactical move. Roy didn’t even appear for the telephone conference call with the press when he didn’t have to show his face, just demonstrate his voice. I can understand that RJ would find live reporter’s questions about his recent failures to be negative karma, but if he was concerned that his telephone voice would come off sounding like a hostage tape, he has more than Tarver to worry about.
For years we endured the Jones bluster as he basically fought hand picked cream puffs on HBO’s dime. In fact, Roy seems to have three voices. One is the Jones fighter/rapper voice that he uses to puff his chest and gloat over fallen tomato cans. Then he has a second voice that he uses in his capacity as expert analyst for HBO Championship Boxing. His third voice is the one that he used to excuse/explain/downplay his back to back knockout losses to Tarver and Glen Johnson last year. That voice is similar to that of Michael “Brownie” Brown, the ex-Fema Director.
Even the commercial that HBO put out to promote the fight, [since Jones won’t], is far from awe inspiring. Responding to Tarver’s confident swagger predicting the end of the Jones era, Jones’ less than menacing response is, “Watch yourself. Watch yourself.”
Because Jones was such a superb athlete in his prime, his pride and ego were tolerated, and he was allowed to become a prima donna. His reluctance to take risks in matchmaking, as well as in the ring, has always been looked upon as his inner fear of meeting the fate of his friend, Gerald McClellan, who defeated Jones in the amateurs.
McClellan, you may recall, is the former WBC middleweight titlist whose life was changed forever after a savage, thrilling, loss to Nigel Benn in 1995. Gerald was left brain damaged, blind, nearly deaf, and in a wheelchair, and is now under the care of his sisters. Jones is probably the biggest supporter of the Gerald McClellan Trust Fund, and it was said he didn’t want to end up broken and forgotten, as was his old nemesis.
Now with the death of Leavander Johnson, one must wonder what Roy’s mindset is as he enters the final chapter of the Tarver-Jones trilogy. Will his fear override his ego after he faces adversity, and quietly quit on his stool? Or will the pride surface and will him to wage a determined battle, unfaltering in his quest to rescue his legacy?
You could make the argument that Jones reached his peak in March 2003 when he defeated John Ruiz for the WBA heavyweight belt. Ruiz may not have been the second coming of Joe Louis, but he was still 30 pounds heavier, taller, stronger, and a heavier puncher. It was a great accomplishment, attained by his willingness to take a risk.
The question is how did Jones stumble from career-defining fight to back to back knockout victim? Somehow, at age 35, without ever receiving any punishment in the ring worth noting, his reflexes were compromised and he developed stamina problems.
After his controversial split decision victory over Tarver a few months after the Ruiz fight, he felt compelled to face Tarver again in May 2004, assuming that the magic would return. When he was starched in two by one of the seven punches that Tarver landed, he convinced himself that he was simply the victim of a lucky punch, and returned in September to be knocked unconscious by Glen Johnson.
After years of conservatism, his pride dictated his judgment. After absorbing more punishment in Tarver I than in the rest of his career combined, he was back in the ring for Tarver II in six months. That might be a reasonable recovery period, but he blundered when he met IBF titleholder Johnson just four months after the Tarver knockout. There was just too much damage done in too short of a time frame to a body that had declined without notice.
This writer has long felt that even if a fighter passes his physical with flying colors, he should not be allowed to fight a championship fight so soon after being defeated so decisively. Nor should a fighter be permitted to return from retirement or a long layoff to go straight to a championship fight. A fight with a top 10 contender should be required first. This provision would prevent sad spectacles such as a bruised and beaten Muhammad Ali being forced to sit in his corner after the 10th round while Angelo Dundee stopped the slaughter being inflicted by Larry Holmes.
The problem is that fighters, particularly the great ones, just never know when their bodies are going to betray them. Their competitive instinct tells them that true greatness will come from their rebound from adversity. More often than not, the logic doesn’t work.
Recently, three legends, Julio Cesar Chavez, 43, Johnny Tapia, 38, and Christy Martin, 37, offered exhibit “A” of my hypothesis. Chavez, who seemingly has been saying “Adios” for five years, broke his right hand, and was unable, [unwilling?], to come out for the sixth round against a car salesman. Tapia was knocked out for the first time in his career by someone named Sandro Marcos, whose last victory came 3 ½ years ago. Martin lost every round in a six round decision to Holly Holm. How demeaning is that after having the “Million Dollar Lady” promotion , with its $1 million purse cancelled after Lucia Rijker ruptured her Achilles tendon?
I’m curious to see if Jones Jr. becomes the sentimental favorite, since there was never a great deal of sentiment for him in the first place. Respect and appreciation of his skills, yes, public adulation, not really. But there is considerable drama in this instance. The storyline of the once proud warrior on the decline, facing his demons and summoning up the courage to face his most dangerous and outspoken rival, Tarver, is a compelling story.
I’m inclined to predict that Jones is going to dig deep to fight to the best of his capabilities at this stage of his career, but lose in the process. It’s not that Tarver has his number, just that regrettably Roy has lost too much. Speed was his game, and Tarver has that advantage now. There are considerable concerns now about Jones’ chin, his health, his hand, and his self doubt. Can he win? Well yes, but only if he gains Tarver’s respect early, stays away from the ropes, and at least shows flashes of his old brilliance. I’m picking Tarver to win by unanimous decision.
By Mike Swann
I’m off to Tampa today to cover the Roy Jones Jr. - Antonio Tarver III clash on Saturday. Because of my flight schedule, it is unlikely that I will arrive in time to attend Roy’s portion of the press conference, scheduled for noon. Since Jones has yet to appear for a press conference, this might turn out to be a brilliant tactical move. Roy didn’t even appear for the telephone conference call with the press when he didn’t have to show his face, just demonstrate his voice. I can understand that RJ would find live reporter’s questions about his recent failures to be negative karma, but if he was concerned that his telephone voice would come off sounding like a hostage tape, he has more than Tarver to worry about.
For years we endured the Jones bluster as he basically fought hand picked cream puffs on HBO’s dime. In fact, Roy seems to have three voices. One is the Jones fighter/rapper voice that he uses to puff his chest and gloat over fallen tomato cans. Then he has a second voice that he uses in his capacity as expert analyst for HBO Championship Boxing. His third voice is the one that he used to excuse/explain/downplay his back to back knockout losses to Tarver and Glen Johnson last year. That voice is similar to that of Michael “Brownie” Brown, the ex-Fema Director.
Even the commercial that HBO put out to promote the fight, [since Jones won’t], is far from awe inspiring. Responding to Tarver’s confident swagger predicting the end of the Jones era, Jones’ less than menacing response is, “Watch yourself. Watch yourself.”
Because Jones was such a superb athlete in his prime, his pride and ego were tolerated, and he was allowed to become a prima donna. His reluctance to take risks in matchmaking, as well as in the ring, has always been looked upon as his inner fear of meeting the fate of his friend, Gerald McClellan, who defeated Jones in the amateurs.
McClellan, you may recall, is the former WBC middleweight titlist whose life was changed forever after a savage, thrilling, loss to Nigel Benn in 1995. Gerald was left brain damaged, blind, nearly deaf, and in a wheelchair, and is now under the care of his sisters. Jones is probably the biggest supporter of the Gerald McClellan Trust Fund, and it was said he didn’t want to end up broken and forgotten, as was his old nemesis.
Now with the death of Leavander Johnson, one must wonder what Roy’s mindset is as he enters the final chapter of the Tarver-Jones trilogy. Will his fear override his ego after he faces adversity, and quietly quit on his stool? Or will the pride surface and will him to wage a determined battle, unfaltering in his quest to rescue his legacy?
You could make the argument that Jones reached his peak in March 2003 when he defeated John Ruiz for the WBA heavyweight belt. Ruiz may not have been the second coming of Joe Louis, but he was still 30 pounds heavier, taller, stronger, and a heavier puncher. It was a great accomplishment, attained by his willingness to take a risk.
The question is how did Jones stumble from career-defining fight to back to back knockout victim? Somehow, at age 35, without ever receiving any punishment in the ring worth noting, his reflexes were compromised and he developed stamina problems.
After his controversial split decision victory over Tarver a few months after the Ruiz fight, he felt compelled to face Tarver again in May 2004, assuming that the magic would return. When he was starched in two by one of the seven punches that Tarver landed, he convinced himself that he was simply the victim of a lucky punch, and returned in September to be knocked unconscious by Glen Johnson.
After years of conservatism, his pride dictated his judgment. After absorbing more punishment in Tarver I than in the rest of his career combined, he was back in the ring for Tarver II in six months. That might be a reasonable recovery period, but he blundered when he met IBF titleholder Johnson just four months after the Tarver knockout. There was just too much damage done in too short of a time frame to a body that had declined without notice.
This writer has long felt that even if a fighter passes his physical with flying colors, he should not be allowed to fight a championship fight so soon after being defeated so decisively. Nor should a fighter be permitted to return from retirement or a long layoff to go straight to a championship fight. A fight with a top 10 contender should be required first. This provision would prevent sad spectacles such as a bruised and beaten Muhammad Ali being forced to sit in his corner after the 10th round while Angelo Dundee stopped the slaughter being inflicted by Larry Holmes.
The problem is that fighters, particularly the great ones, just never know when their bodies are going to betray them. Their competitive instinct tells them that true greatness will come from their rebound from adversity. More often than not, the logic doesn’t work.
Recently, three legends, Julio Cesar Chavez, 43, Johnny Tapia, 38, and Christy Martin, 37, offered exhibit “A” of my hypothesis. Chavez, who seemingly has been saying “Adios” for five years, broke his right hand, and was unable, [unwilling?], to come out for the sixth round against a car salesman. Tapia was knocked out for the first time in his career by someone named Sandro Marcos, whose last victory came 3 ½ years ago. Martin lost every round in a six round decision to Holly Holm. How demeaning is that after having the “Million Dollar Lady” promotion , with its $1 million purse cancelled after Lucia Rijker ruptured her Achilles tendon?
I’m curious to see if Jones Jr. becomes the sentimental favorite, since there was never a great deal of sentiment for him in the first place. Respect and appreciation of his skills, yes, public adulation, not really. But there is considerable drama in this instance. The storyline of the once proud warrior on the decline, facing his demons and summoning up the courage to face his most dangerous and outspoken rival, Tarver, is a compelling story.
I’m inclined to predict that Jones is going to dig deep to fight to the best of his capabilities at this stage of his career, but lose in the process. It’s not that Tarver has his number, just that regrettably Roy has lost too much. Speed was his game, and Tarver has that advantage now. There are considerable concerns now about Jones’ chin, his health, his hand, and his self doubt. Can he win? Well yes, but only if he gains Tarver’s respect early, stays away from the ropes, and at least shows flashes of his old brilliance. I’m picking Tarver to win by unanimous decision.
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