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Six years ago there was a fantastic foursome, and a “Sugar” was among them.
And while Shane Mosley may not be on the same level as Ray Leonard, the comparison is needless, as it is currently unnecessary to ponder how Mosley, Oscar De La Hoya, Felix Trinidad and Fernando Vargas measured up against Leonard, Thomas Hearns, Marvin Hagler and Roberto Duran.
For the nostalgia for better days between welterweight and middleweight was spent last week; this time it is not about a quandary, about wanting more out of fresh blood, but about redemption, about the saving graces of aging faces.
Those faces were attached to heads that obstinately clashed on Saturday night, which were attached to the bodies of Shane Mosley and Fernando Vargas that stepped into the ring to reclaim old glory, and to set up new possibilities for the future.
The future has apparently passed by the quartet. De La Hoya is on his farewell tour, only a couple years behind schedule, with the last stops being Ricardo Mayorga and possibly Floyd Mayweather Jr. Trinidad retired shortly after a one-sided beating, only to come back and then return to Puerto Rico, embarrassed once again.
Mosley had gone 3-4 since 2002, losing twice each to Vernon Forrest and Winky Wright, outpointing De La Hoya and then going the distance in wins over David Estrada and Jose Luis Cruz. But the bouts against Estrada and Cruz went deeper than expected, and Mosley seemed less inclined to throw combinations than in his smoother, more successful days.
And Vargas had been away, resting his body from the wear and tear of injuries. When he came back against Raymond Joval and Javier Castillejo, the ferocious one was now tamer, more defensive, attempting to prolong a career that now seemed to have fizzled out early. Having won his first title at age 21, he had been just as precocious as he was ferocious. Now, although he wasn’t atrocious, he also wasn’t attracting the same kind of buzz he once had.
Hence when Vargas-Mosley was not only announced, but announced for pay-per-view, the talking heads (including this one) derided the fight as coming six years too late, when both men were undefeated, capable and budding superstars. Now they were shells of their old selves, awkward, holding on for that last gasp, using their name recognition to take in a good payday.
Revenge may smell sweet, but redemption feels just as good.
Not just the redemption of cashing in paychecks boosted by pay-per-view, but the knowledge that one has proven critics wrong while proving to one’s self that one could still do it, that an aging prizefighter still had that one last good fight in him, at a bare minimum.
Rare is it that a crossroads fight involves two pugilists both going the same direction, that bearing being downward, and even rarer is it that both men can turn their careers around, however momentarily, when most signs indicated otherwise. [details]
And while Shane Mosley may not be on the same level as Ray Leonard, the comparison is needless, as it is currently unnecessary to ponder how Mosley, Oscar De La Hoya, Felix Trinidad and Fernando Vargas measured up against Leonard, Thomas Hearns, Marvin Hagler and Roberto Duran.
For the nostalgia for better days between welterweight and middleweight was spent last week; this time it is not about a quandary, about wanting more out of fresh blood, but about redemption, about the saving graces of aging faces.
Those faces were attached to heads that obstinately clashed on Saturday night, which were attached to the bodies of Shane Mosley and Fernando Vargas that stepped into the ring to reclaim old glory, and to set up new possibilities for the future.
The future has apparently passed by the quartet. De La Hoya is on his farewell tour, only a couple years behind schedule, with the last stops being Ricardo Mayorga and possibly Floyd Mayweather Jr. Trinidad retired shortly after a one-sided beating, only to come back and then return to Puerto Rico, embarrassed once again.
Mosley had gone 3-4 since 2002, losing twice each to Vernon Forrest and Winky Wright, outpointing De La Hoya and then going the distance in wins over David Estrada and Jose Luis Cruz. But the bouts against Estrada and Cruz went deeper than expected, and Mosley seemed less inclined to throw combinations than in his smoother, more successful days.
And Vargas had been away, resting his body from the wear and tear of injuries. When he came back against Raymond Joval and Javier Castillejo, the ferocious one was now tamer, more defensive, attempting to prolong a career that now seemed to have fizzled out early. Having won his first title at age 21, he had been just as precocious as he was ferocious. Now, although he wasn’t atrocious, he also wasn’t attracting the same kind of buzz he once had.
Hence when Vargas-Mosley was not only announced, but announced for pay-per-view, the talking heads (including this one) derided the fight as coming six years too late, when both men were undefeated, capable and budding superstars. Now they were shells of their old selves, awkward, holding on for that last gasp, using their name recognition to take in a good payday.
Revenge may smell sweet, but redemption feels just as good.
Not just the redemption of cashing in paychecks boosted by pay-per-view, but the knowledge that one has proven critics wrong while proving to one’s self that one could still do it, that an aging prizefighter still had that one last good fight in him, at a bare minimum.
Rare is it that a crossroads fight involves two pugilists both going the same direction, that bearing being downward, and even rarer is it that both men can turn their careers around, however momentarily, when most signs indicated otherwise. [details]
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