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I guess all the talk of the far more serious robbery of the night has prevented much discussion of Woods seemingly getting a gift over Johnson, though far less of one than a crude clubber from Nigeria would receive.
I had the fight 115-113 Johnson, though with close rounds I could have just about seen the justification for a draw. With Woods as personable as ever and Johnson’s ego seemingly without limits since he knocked out Roy Jones (the “Gentleman” nickname long since abandoned) then I was pleased he got the win for himself, but it felt like a pyrrhic victory. Amusingly, any talk of Johnson being robbed in the UK can be put to bed by the fact that the only judge who had him winning was a Limey, while it was a Yankee Doodle and an Amigo that prevented him from getting that IBF belt.
What the fight – and it was fairly exciting, wasn’t it? – reminded me was how much psychology comes into play during fights, and how much of a part it plays. Since they last met, Woods has improved considerably in strength, technique and power. However, part of his training ritual – watching videos of the second bout in which he took a battering off Johnson – seemed to have got inside his head, and he entered the ring looking like he was carrying the Devil on his back.
The Mon was so far into Woods’s head that he seemed to revert back to the Clinton of old – he was too upright, he neglected his jab (and therefore considerable reach advantage) and continually dropped his guard, allowing him to get tagged with rights all night long. It wasn’t a great performance from Woods, though a lot of credit must also go to the underrated boxing skills of Monson.
Fair credit to Woods for showing that he’s got a set of chops, as always, and – including one horrifying moment when he dropped his guard completely – coming out of the ninth after being seriously stunned by the Mon. What gets Woods even further credit is that not only did he make it out of the round, but he got his resolve back to take every single round afterwards on my card. The tenth was still competitive, the eleventh and twelfth saw the Mon totally spent and hanging on to see the fight out.
This was actually the crux of my prediction – having seen both prior bouts, I knew that Woods had the size and style match-up to prevent the Mon from swarming him too much. I also knew that Woods had marginally the better stamina, as both prior bouts had seen the Mon gassed during the championship rounds. It happened again here, and even though – with Monson holding and his head down for two rounds – Clinton didn’t get the KO, the opportunity was clearly there for Clinton to be able to do so, making my prediction of a 10th round TKO not entirely ridiculous.
In a way it was a fight of two halves. Though Woods had the worst round of all three Monson clashes in the ninth where it looked like he might be stopped, the rest of the second half belonged to him. Glen looked gassed incredibly early on in the fight, his mouth open from ISTR the fourth, and on my card bagged just the aforementioned ninth and a close eighth round. The rest belonged to Woods. Conversely I gave Monson everything but the third in the first six rounds, though had a note on my card that the 2nd, 5th and 6th were "close". Though I got the decision I wanted, it did leave a bad taste in my mouth as Monson’s summation – that Clinton won the fight on getting close rounds, rather than winning – was probably accurate. However, any chance of coming to a conclusion of "robbery" was made to look ridiculous by a genuine robbery later that evening in the Staples Centre...
THE BATTY COUNT:
1. Some strained faces at ringside post-bout as Joe Calzaghe tried to look pleased that the less-lucrative to the US market Clinton Woods had won, and Frank Warren tried to look delighted in an entertaining fight. Considering he’d bid for the show to piss off Woods’s promoter (and now the promoter of Ricky Hatton), Dennis Hobson, having Woods take the decision must have delighted him. Bidding for the match in the seeming belief that Johnson would destroy his rival’s charge, all he succeeded in doing was introducing Woods to a wider primetime ITV audience. Add to this the winning corner being worked by a fat Hatton himself and it was a spectacular own goal for Frank.
2. ITV’s commentary is notoriously crap, with former Flyweight Duke McKenzie arguably the worst commentator of all time. However, last night sunk to an all-new low, where the jaw-droppingly biased commentary led viewers to believe Woods was almost pitching a shut-out. Presumably if Woods had got laid out in the ninth Duke would have informed viewers that “Johnson looks in real trouble here, he might be ready to be taken!” Put Barry McGuigan on the mike, and quick.
3. To the James Toney-Samuel Peter fight, where for once Toney raging that he was robbed by judges wasn’t sour g****s from an out-of-condition fighter, but a genuine plea from a man I had winning 116-111 on my card. Though Peter was better than expected, hurting Toney in the fifth when Toney was talking to the crowd and putting together a laughably crude "combination" at the start of the ninth, this was a walk in the park for James.
4. Any chance of winning that Peter had – short of having Stevie Wonder judge the bout, of course – was thrown down the drain when he came in at a massive 257lbs. Danny Williams, sitting at ringside, was heard to say "Humdilla, look at that skinny ****! He’s anorexic!"
5. Raul Caiz as referee had the curious habit of saying to both boxers "take deep breaths now, deep breaths" throughout the bout. Rumours that he said it because he thought both were in labour is not yet confirmed.
6. Still with Caiz, he developed an odd habit of swearing profusely throughout the bout, frequently using the "F" word. Once more, rumours that his pre-fight instructions in the dressing room included "I want you listen to my ****ing commands at all ****ing times, you ****sucking mother****ers" cannot be confirmed.
7. Peter developed a new move in the ninth, where he clubbed Toney’s head from both sides in a clinch. Crazy racist piss-takers might like to suggest that he did this because he got hungry and he thought he was beating on the jungle drums for his dinner, but I would never repeat such a claim. It’s proper bum batty!
I had the fight 115-113 Johnson, though with close rounds I could have just about seen the justification for a draw. With Woods as personable as ever and Johnson’s ego seemingly without limits since he knocked out Roy Jones (the “Gentleman” nickname long since abandoned) then I was pleased he got the win for himself, but it felt like a pyrrhic victory. Amusingly, any talk of Johnson being robbed in the UK can be put to bed by the fact that the only judge who had him winning was a Limey, while it was a Yankee Doodle and an Amigo that prevented him from getting that IBF belt.
What the fight – and it was fairly exciting, wasn’t it? – reminded me was how much psychology comes into play during fights, and how much of a part it plays. Since they last met, Woods has improved considerably in strength, technique and power. However, part of his training ritual – watching videos of the second bout in which he took a battering off Johnson – seemed to have got inside his head, and he entered the ring looking like he was carrying the Devil on his back.
The Mon was so far into Woods’s head that he seemed to revert back to the Clinton of old – he was too upright, he neglected his jab (and therefore considerable reach advantage) and continually dropped his guard, allowing him to get tagged with rights all night long. It wasn’t a great performance from Woods, though a lot of credit must also go to the underrated boxing skills of Monson.
Fair credit to Woods for showing that he’s got a set of chops, as always, and – including one horrifying moment when he dropped his guard completely – coming out of the ninth after being seriously stunned by the Mon. What gets Woods even further credit is that not only did he make it out of the round, but he got his resolve back to take every single round afterwards on my card. The tenth was still competitive, the eleventh and twelfth saw the Mon totally spent and hanging on to see the fight out.
This was actually the crux of my prediction – having seen both prior bouts, I knew that Woods had the size and style match-up to prevent the Mon from swarming him too much. I also knew that Woods had marginally the better stamina, as both prior bouts had seen the Mon gassed during the championship rounds. It happened again here, and even though – with Monson holding and his head down for two rounds – Clinton didn’t get the KO, the opportunity was clearly there for Clinton to be able to do so, making my prediction of a 10th round TKO not entirely ridiculous.
In a way it was a fight of two halves. Though Woods had the worst round of all three Monson clashes in the ninth where it looked like he might be stopped, the rest of the second half belonged to him. Glen looked gassed incredibly early on in the fight, his mouth open from ISTR the fourth, and on my card bagged just the aforementioned ninth and a close eighth round. The rest belonged to Woods. Conversely I gave Monson everything but the third in the first six rounds, though had a note on my card that the 2nd, 5th and 6th were "close". Though I got the decision I wanted, it did leave a bad taste in my mouth as Monson’s summation – that Clinton won the fight on getting close rounds, rather than winning – was probably accurate. However, any chance of coming to a conclusion of "robbery" was made to look ridiculous by a genuine robbery later that evening in the Staples Centre...
THE BATTY COUNT:
1. Some strained faces at ringside post-bout as Joe Calzaghe tried to look pleased that the less-lucrative to the US market Clinton Woods had won, and Frank Warren tried to look delighted in an entertaining fight. Considering he’d bid for the show to piss off Woods’s promoter (and now the promoter of Ricky Hatton), Dennis Hobson, having Woods take the decision must have delighted him. Bidding for the match in the seeming belief that Johnson would destroy his rival’s charge, all he succeeded in doing was introducing Woods to a wider primetime ITV audience. Add to this the winning corner being worked by a fat Hatton himself and it was a spectacular own goal for Frank.
2. ITV’s commentary is notoriously crap, with former Flyweight Duke McKenzie arguably the worst commentator of all time. However, last night sunk to an all-new low, where the jaw-droppingly biased commentary led viewers to believe Woods was almost pitching a shut-out. Presumably if Woods had got laid out in the ninth Duke would have informed viewers that “Johnson looks in real trouble here, he might be ready to be taken!” Put Barry McGuigan on the mike, and quick.
3. To the James Toney-Samuel Peter fight, where for once Toney raging that he was robbed by judges wasn’t sour g****s from an out-of-condition fighter, but a genuine plea from a man I had winning 116-111 on my card. Though Peter was better than expected, hurting Toney in the fifth when Toney was talking to the crowd and putting together a laughably crude "combination" at the start of the ninth, this was a walk in the park for James.
4. Any chance of winning that Peter had – short of having Stevie Wonder judge the bout, of course – was thrown down the drain when he came in at a massive 257lbs. Danny Williams, sitting at ringside, was heard to say "Humdilla, look at that skinny ****! He’s anorexic!"
5. Raul Caiz as referee had the curious habit of saying to both boxers "take deep breaths now, deep breaths" throughout the bout. Rumours that he said it because he thought both were in labour is not yet confirmed.
6. Still with Caiz, he developed an odd habit of swearing profusely throughout the bout, frequently using the "F" word. Once more, rumours that his pre-fight instructions in the dressing room included "I want you listen to my ****ing commands at all ****ing times, you ****sucking mother****ers" cannot be confirmed.
7. Peter developed a new move in the ninth, where he clubbed Toney’s head from both sides in a clinch. Crazy racist piss-takers might like to suggest that he did this because he got hungry and he thought he was beating on the jungle drums for his dinner, but I would never repeat such a claim. It’s proper bum batty!
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