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Nine months removed from his third consecutive lopsided loss -- two of which were by brutal knockout -- the once great Roy Jones Jr. carries on, apparently oblivious to reality.
He is a long way from the perch he once resided on, the one he once bragged about on the rap tune "And Still."
I'm Mr. Unstoppable
And still I'm Mr. Undroppable
And still I'm Mr. Invincible, Mr. Unbeatable
And still Mr. Unknockoutable
Times change. He is no longer any of those things.
He is no longer champion. No longer impossible to hit. No longer immune to losing so much as a round.
At age 37, he is a shell of the once dynamic fighter who ruled the pound-for-pound rankings with an iron first for a decade.
Yet Jones (49-4, 38 KOs), limping to the end of a once-glorious career, will fight again Saturday night when he faces Camden, N.J.'s Badi Ajamu (25-2-1, 14 KOs), a fringe light heavyweight contender and cousin of the late Floyd Patterson, on a cut-rate $25 pay-per-view card (9 ET) from the Qwest Arena in Boise, Idaho.
Could Jones be any further removed from the bright lights of Las Vegas or any of the other major venues he once packed? Any more distant from the glamour of HBO PPV, the pinnacle of the sport?
What Jones does have left, however, is bravado because he talks as though the losses are simply blips instead of comprehensive and crushing defeats. He talks as if he needs to make just an adjustment here or there in order to be right back at the top of the sport.
"Right now, people doubt that I can come back from what I have been through, so that makes it fun again," Jones said at a recent breakfast. "This is mainly to prove that once you go down, they think old fighters can't come back. That's good. I'm still a young man, a very young man. I never once considered retirement."
In March 2003, Jones was on the top of the world and looked like he could still dominate for years to come.
A former middleweight, super middleweight and light heavyweight champion, Jones became the second former middleweight champion in more than 100 years to move up and win a heavyweight crown when he dethroned John Ruiz in a near-flawless performance.
Since then, Jones' decline has been fast and furious. He followed the Ruiz fight by returning to light heavyweight. Although he gutted out a majority decision victory in a light heavyweight championship fight against Antonio Tarver in November 2003, signs of slippage were evident.
Then Jones went off the cliff.
Tarver drilled him in the second round of their May 2004 rematch. Glen Johnson followed by abusing Jones before knocking him cold in the ninth round of their September 2004 title fight.
In his most recent outing, Jones was in survival mode from the opening bell in his October 2005 rubber match with Tarver. Jones was nearly knocked out and, although he made it to the final bell, he lost a lopsided decision.
Naturally, Jones has reasons for all of the losses.
For the first two struggles with Tarver and the Johnson loss, Jones blamed losing more than 30 pounds, mostly muscle, to trim down from heavyweight to 175 pounds.
"It took a long time to get back to normal, a year and a half almost," Jones said. "It's really a strange situation. What I did for Ruiz, I knew I would make a sacrifice that may hurt me for the rest of my career. Losing the weight, it shocks your body. Even for the Glen Johnson fight, I was dehydrated. My body still hadn't readjusted. I'd walk around with my mouth dry all the time."
For the third Tarver fight, Jones unleashed a hummer of a reason for the loss: Chaos in his corner, stemming from the surprise return (and obviously ill-advised) return of his father, Roy Jones Sr.
After a long estrangement, Jones brought his father back into the fold for the first time since before he won his first championship in 1993. Jones Sr. had taught his son how to box. He trained his son to be a star amateur and then during his early pro career until a serious falling out.
For the Tarver fight, Jones Sr. would share training duties with the loyal Alton Merkerson, who had been with Jones throughout all of his championship fights. Jones would train with Merkerson at one gym for part of the day and then head across Pensacola, Fla., to his father's gym for another training session.
During the fight, the plan was for Jones' father to speak first between rounds before yielding in order for Merkerson to have his say. During the fight, it didn't quite work out that way.
Jones Sr. dominated while Merkerson stood silent. Jones said his father even had one of the assistants literally try to tug Merkerson off the ring apron in order to make room for Jones Sr.
"When you look at the Tarver fight last time, I didn't feel like it was my age but all the other stuff I got going on," Jones said. "If I told you all the stuff I had on me, you wouldn't believe it. But I'm not here to tell you all that. I'm here to tell you that's all in the past and I can move on."
However, when pressed on what exactly he meant, Jones paused before answering.
"You want to know the truth? The whole truth," Jones asked slowly. "You might get mad at me for telling you the truth, but I'm going to tell you the truth. If I knock him out, who'll get the glory? Everybody would have given the glory to Roy Jones Sr. No glory would have gone to God nor myself. So would that have been right? If I won that fight any kind of way my father gets all the glory."
Jones said he didn't throw the fight, but subconsciously his father's presence didn't allow him to win.
"It was established before the fight who would talk, but it changed during the fight," Jones said. "You [Jones Sr.] push Merk out [of] the way and talk, and now I can't get Merk to say nothing. I'm seeing it all and trying to deal with all this. Somebody didn't stick to their side of the agreement. You know who it was. It's a pretty deep statement, but my father don't deserve [the glory]. He's a sharp guy. If he stuck to the plan, it all works for everybody. But he didn't stick to the plan."
Jones continued to pour out his emotions regarding his father, even comparing him to a dog.
"Sometimes having a dog in your yard causes problems for your neighbor," Jones said. "It's not that it's a good dog or a bad dog. But to have him there causes too much havoc. So sometimes you have to move it. So having [Jones Sr. in the corner] was good but it was more bad than good. He is the best, smartest dude I know as far as boxing skills, don't get me wrong. Nobody can teach me like he taught me. But at the same time there are other things that come along with it like that situation with Merk.
"I got to sit in the corner and deal with it and I'm fighting. People worry about me feeling bad for me, and I'm worried and feeling bad for Merk. Understand me?
"You don't know like I know that this man [Jones Sr.] would treat him [pointing to a reporter] better than he would treat me, and I am his own son, and this [reporter] is a white man. Kinda deep, ain't it?"
Jones said by the eighth round, he was concerned only with not getting knocked out again.
"I'm not going nowhere. I understood there was nothing I could do," Jones said. "You just got to do what you got to do to survive. You're out here by yourself. There's a fight going on in the corner, there's a fight going on out here. You got a lot going on. There was too much going on for me to win."
Jones' attitude is different heading into the fight with Ajamu. Jones Sr. has been banished again and Merkerson will be the only voice in the corner.
Jones said he is using the fight as a tuneup, and expects to win and move on to a title fight, preferably a rematch with Glen Johnson should he claim a title belt against Clinton Woods on Sept. 2.
"If I don't go through this guy, it's time for me to stop," Jones said of Ajamu. "If I don't go through him, it's time for Roy to stop. If I see at any point it ain't working, I will stop. But I have to do this for my mind."
Only then did Jones concede that he isn't what he once was.
"We all go through our ups and downs," he said. "If you follow sports, all teams go through their ups and downs. The Lakers were good for a long time, then they're down for a long time, then they got to build back up. In boxing, fighters go up to the top. Sometimes they come down and they got to rebuild. I was up there for so long, it seemed like I would never have to rebuild. But when the time comes, I got to rebuild. This [fight] is to prove something to myself. Nothing else.
"When I was on top all them years, I was happy, right? No sense in me being sad when my times comes. Every dog [is] going to have his day. Your time will come. I'm not complaining."
this is just getting ridiculous
Nine months removed from his third consecutive lopsided loss -- two of which were by brutal knockout -- the once great Roy Jones Jr. carries on, apparently oblivious to reality.
He is a long way from the perch he once resided on, the one he once bragged about on the rap tune "And Still."
I'm Mr. Unstoppable
And still I'm Mr. Undroppable
And still I'm Mr. Invincible, Mr. Unbeatable
And still Mr. Unknockoutable
Times change. He is no longer any of those things.
He is no longer champion. No longer impossible to hit. No longer immune to losing so much as a round.
At age 37, he is a shell of the once dynamic fighter who ruled the pound-for-pound rankings with an iron first for a decade.
Yet Jones (49-4, 38 KOs), limping to the end of a once-glorious career, will fight again Saturday night when he faces Camden, N.J.'s Badi Ajamu (25-2-1, 14 KOs), a fringe light heavyweight contender and cousin of the late Floyd Patterson, on a cut-rate $25 pay-per-view card (9 ET) from the Qwest Arena in Boise, Idaho.
Could Jones be any further removed from the bright lights of Las Vegas or any of the other major venues he once packed? Any more distant from the glamour of HBO PPV, the pinnacle of the sport?
What Jones does have left, however, is bravado because he talks as though the losses are simply blips instead of comprehensive and crushing defeats. He talks as if he needs to make just an adjustment here or there in order to be right back at the top of the sport.
"Right now, people doubt that I can come back from what I have been through, so that makes it fun again," Jones said at a recent breakfast. "This is mainly to prove that once you go down, they think old fighters can't come back. That's good. I'm still a young man, a very young man. I never once considered retirement."
In March 2003, Jones was on the top of the world and looked like he could still dominate for years to come.
A former middleweight, super middleweight and light heavyweight champion, Jones became the second former middleweight champion in more than 100 years to move up and win a heavyweight crown when he dethroned John Ruiz in a near-flawless performance.
Since then, Jones' decline has been fast and furious. He followed the Ruiz fight by returning to light heavyweight. Although he gutted out a majority decision victory in a light heavyweight championship fight against Antonio Tarver in November 2003, signs of slippage were evident.
Then Jones went off the cliff.
Tarver drilled him in the second round of their May 2004 rematch. Glen Johnson followed by abusing Jones before knocking him cold in the ninth round of their September 2004 title fight.
In his most recent outing, Jones was in survival mode from the opening bell in his October 2005 rubber match with Tarver. Jones was nearly knocked out and, although he made it to the final bell, he lost a lopsided decision.
Naturally, Jones has reasons for all of the losses.
For the first two struggles with Tarver and the Johnson loss, Jones blamed losing more than 30 pounds, mostly muscle, to trim down from heavyweight to 175 pounds.
"It took a long time to get back to normal, a year and a half almost," Jones said. "It's really a strange situation. What I did for Ruiz, I knew I would make a sacrifice that may hurt me for the rest of my career. Losing the weight, it shocks your body. Even for the Glen Johnson fight, I was dehydrated. My body still hadn't readjusted. I'd walk around with my mouth dry all the time."
For the third Tarver fight, Jones unleashed a hummer of a reason for the loss: Chaos in his corner, stemming from the surprise return (and obviously ill-advised) return of his father, Roy Jones Sr.
After a long estrangement, Jones brought his father back into the fold for the first time since before he won his first championship in 1993. Jones Sr. had taught his son how to box. He trained his son to be a star amateur and then during his early pro career until a serious falling out.
For the Tarver fight, Jones Sr. would share training duties with the loyal Alton Merkerson, who had been with Jones throughout all of his championship fights. Jones would train with Merkerson at one gym for part of the day and then head across Pensacola, Fla., to his father's gym for another training session.
During the fight, the plan was for Jones' father to speak first between rounds before yielding in order for Merkerson to have his say. During the fight, it didn't quite work out that way.
Jones Sr. dominated while Merkerson stood silent. Jones said his father even had one of the assistants literally try to tug Merkerson off the ring apron in order to make room for Jones Sr.
"When you look at the Tarver fight last time, I didn't feel like it was my age but all the other stuff I got going on," Jones said. "If I told you all the stuff I had on me, you wouldn't believe it. But I'm not here to tell you all that. I'm here to tell you that's all in the past and I can move on."
However, when pressed on what exactly he meant, Jones paused before answering.
"You want to know the truth? The whole truth," Jones asked slowly. "You might get mad at me for telling you the truth, but I'm going to tell you the truth. If I knock him out, who'll get the glory? Everybody would have given the glory to Roy Jones Sr. No glory would have gone to God nor myself. So would that have been right? If I won that fight any kind of way my father gets all the glory."
Jones said he didn't throw the fight, but subconsciously his father's presence didn't allow him to win.
"It was established before the fight who would talk, but it changed during the fight," Jones said. "You [Jones Sr.] push Merk out [of] the way and talk, and now I can't get Merk to say nothing. I'm seeing it all and trying to deal with all this. Somebody didn't stick to their side of the agreement. You know who it was. It's a pretty deep statement, but my father don't deserve [the glory]. He's a sharp guy. If he stuck to the plan, it all works for everybody. But he didn't stick to the plan."
Jones continued to pour out his emotions regarding his father, even comparing him to a dog.
"Sometimes having a dog in your yard causes problems for your neighbor," Jones said. "It's not that it's a good dog or a bad dog. But to have him there causes too much havoc. So sometimes you have to move it. So having [Jones Sr. in the corner] was good but it was more bad than good. He is the best, smartest dude I know as far as boxing skills, don't get me wrong. Nobody can teach me like he taught me. But at the same time there are other things that come along with it like that situation with Merk.
"I got to sit in the corner and deal with it and I'm fighting. People worry about me feeling bad for me, and I'm worried and feeling bad for Merk. Understand me?
"You don't know like I know that this man [Jones Sr.] would treat him [pointing to a reporter] better than he would treat me, and I am his own son, and this [reporter] is a white man. Kinda deep, ain't it?"
Jones said by the eighth round, he was concerned only with not getting knocked out again.
"I'm not going nowhere. I understood there was nothing I could do," Jones said. "You just got to do what you got to do to survive. You're out here by yourself. There's a fight going on in the corner, there's a fight going on out here. You got a lot going on. There was too much going on for me to win."
Jones' attitude is different heading into the fight with Ajamu. Jones Sr. has been banished again and Merkerson will be the only voice in the corner.
Jones said he is using the fight as a tuneup, and expects to win and move on to a title fight, preferably a rematch with Glen Johnson should he claim a title belt against Clinton Woods on Sept. 2.
"If I don't go through this guy, it's time for me to stop," Jones said of Ajamu. "If I don't go through him, it's time for Roy to stop. If I see at any point it ain't working, I will stop. But I have to do this for my mind."
Only then did Jones concede that he isn't what he once was.
"We all go through our ups and downs," he said. "If you follow sports, all teams go through their ups and downs. The Lakers were good for a long time, then they're down for a long time, then they got to build back up. In boxing, fighters go up to the top. Sometimes they come down and they got to rebuild. I was up there for so long, it seemed like I would never have to rebuild. But when the time comes, I got to rebuild. This [fight] is to prove something to myself. Nothing else.
"When I was on top all them years, I was happy, right? No sense in me being sad when my times comes. Every dog [is] going to have his day. Your time will come. I'm not complaining."
this is just getting ridiculous
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