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By Lyle Fitzsimmons - It’s a great week to be an optimist.
And while the lovely Danielle would insist my normal bent is too far in the other direction, it’s at times like these in boxing that I tend to think otherwise.
After all, if Wladimir Klitschko and David Haye can get together and get a fight scheduled – which seemed damned near impossible for a good part of the last 18 months – maybe a couple of famous welterweights can find their way to a dual press conference one of these years, too.
I’ll go on record saying it happens within the next 12 months.
But whether it does or doesn’t, that’s a chat for another time.
This week is about the heavyweights.
Needless to say, a fight between big men on this level – 80 wins in 84 fights, four titles on the line – doesn’t come along often. And no matter how aesthetically pleasing a 12-rounder between sublime flyweights might be to some, give me a marquee match between 200-plus pounders any day.
So as the wife, the 3-year-old and I tooled up I-75 on Monday afternoon to conclude another weekend in Gulf-side paradise, my mind wandered back to the heavyweight title bouts that have committed themselves to my memory since I became a conscious fan in the late 1970s. [Click Here To Read More]
And while the lovely Danielle would insist my normal bent is too far in the other direction, it’s at times like these in boxing that I tend to think otherwise.
After all, if Wladimir Klitschko and David Haye can get together and get a fight scheduled – which seemed damned near impossible for a good part of the last 18 months – maybe a couple of famous welterweights can find their way to a dual press conference one of these years, too.
I’ll go on record saying it happens within the next 12 months.
But whether it does or doesn’t, that’s a chat for another time.
This week is about the heavyweights.
Needless to say, a fight between big men on this level – 80 wins in 84 fights, four titles on the line – doesn’t come along often. And no matter how aesthetically pleasing a 12-rounder between sublime flyweights might be to some, give me a marquee match between 200-plus pounders any day.
So as the wife, the 3-year-old and I tooled up I-75 on Monday afternoon to conclude another weekend in Gulf-side paradise, my mind wandered back to the heavyweight title bouts that have committed themselves to my memory since I became a conscious fan in the late 1970s. [Click Here To Read More]