Tuesday, July 8, 2014

The Rabbit's Guide to War

In America or at least within the parameters of my imagination, a well-balanced childhood requires two things, Walt Disney and Dr. Seuss. Disney unleashes a universe of fantasy, allowing a child to lose himself inside a world of classic characters and scenarios that, every so often manage to expose a child to life’s more serious lessons in a framework that is respectful of their innocence. At least that was the case when I was a kid. Dr. Seuss, through his spectacular spin on words, rhyme, and conjured personalities, stokes and informs the intellectual curiosities of children oft ignored by the adult world. 

As a father, Dr. Seuss is my go to for a bedtime tale when the day has left me far too exhausted to trek through my children’s mountain of books. Recently, I discovered The Bippolo Seed & Other Lost Stories. Like many prolific writers, artists, and composers, Dr. Seuss left us a treasure trove of previously unreleased works.  The Rabbit, The Bear, and the Zinniga-Zanniga the second installment in this collection of stories tells the tale of a menacing and gargantuan like bear with “…very big teeth in his very big jaws and very big claws in his very big paws” who sets his sights on a rabbit he very much would like to make his meal. 
“Oh-oh!” gulped the rabbit.
 “I’m in a bad place! I cannot escape…
For I am a rabbit with very small jaws and very small claws in my very small paws…
I’ve got to be smart! Got to think of some trick!”

With his life in peril and that salivating bear merely inches away from devouring him, the rabbit though diminutive in size, with nowhere to run and no serious chance of putting up a fight, would counter his would be predator with an intellectual barrage so potent, it would leave the towering bear dazed and confused perched atop the Zinniga Zanniga tree, allowing the rabbit to make his escape.

“It’s always the same when you fight with Big Guys…
A bit of Quick-Thinking
counts much more than size!”

Thus spake Floyd “Money” Mayweather, “he can have heart, he can hit harder and he can be stronger, but there’s no fighter smarter than me.” For all intents and purposes boxing is merely a brutal game of Chess, exacting as much from the mind as it does the body.  Muhammed Ali in his utter destruction of both that “Big ugly bear” Sonny Liston and the “Monster” George Foreman figuratively wrote the book on this particular brand of warfare. A fight begins with the truth. Much like Dr. Seuss’ Rabbit, a fighter must respect his foe and most importantly know himself.  Thus, if one who is not a “Monster” or “Bear” is to topple a “Monster” or “Bear” ones most lethal weapons of war best be of the cerebral nature; and as The Greatest so masterfully displayed, he conquered Liston and Foreman long before he through a punch.

Twenty-seven years ago Sugar Ray Leonard entered the ring against Marvelous Marvin Hagler for an
encounter every single boxing insider, expert, and fan knew to be, nothing more than a public execution. Leonard hadn’t step inside a ring professionally for a number of years and Hagler was at the height of his indomitable powers. Seven years prior to Leonard’s engagement with Hagler he suffered his first defeat at the mighty hands of Roberto Duran. The devastation of that loss left Sugar Ray battered physically, but more so mentally and emotionally. Yet, in the days to follow as the humiliation of that loss subsided Leonard would soon concede he’d been a foil in Duran’s masterful Art of War, which began long before their feverish dance in Montreal. By his own admission Leonard entered that ring with hate in his heart seeking to destroy Duran, which is exactly what the fiery Panamanian wanted. Forfeiting ones identity or character for the sake of personal vindication is humiliation’s sharpest sting. It always fails. It was a lesson well learned, as evidenced in the rematch in New Orleans that would devastate the once exalted Duran for years to come.

Few fighters in the history of the sport have been more complete and dominant as Marvelous Marvin Hagler. From his technique to his epic conditioning one could hardly find a flaw in him, but Leonard had been paying attention. Though Hagler was virtually indestructible in the squared circle, Leonard understood Hagler’s ravenous obsession was to be recognized, to the point of making Marvelous his legal name. Fighters are a psychological mix of fear, pride, and crazy, with a side of genius in some cases. Following his epic victory over Thomas Hearns, Hagler entered that realm of superstardom he’d so coveted. The national sponsors poured in and appearances on late night talk shows became commonplace, just like Ray.  The tables were turned, which may have been what the semi retired Leonard needed. For a hungry Hagler was an invincible Hagler, but celebrity Hagler, the non-chip on his shoulder edition was tame enough for Leonard’s needs. Ray understood egos and he worked Hagler’s like a devious Svengali. For years Leonard teased him repeatedly with hopes of a matchup. Even a semi retired Sugar Ray Leonard still managed to crowd Hagler’s spotlight, yet he did it in a manner in which Hagler still would believe himself to be in the driver’s seat. Leonard dictated the terms of the fight, rounds, ring size, etc., yet the term that mattered most, the size of the purse he gave to Hagler. However, it would take Hagler at least 3 rounds before he realized his fairytale had gone awry. From mainstream royalty back to being that Menacing Bear in pursuit of the Golden Rabbit who, by then, had every spectator, including the judges mystified in his favor, rendering him a much disputed victory, but a victory nonetheless and leaving Hagler still bitterly pondering atop the Zinniga Zanniga Tree.







Sunday, June 15, 2014

In The Name of the Father, the Son, and the Sweet Science

“You created this monster,” former Welterweight Champion Timothy Bradley, Jr. reminded his father, the stoic Timothy Bradley, Sr., following his near calamitous encounter with the formidable Ruslan Provodnikov. The fight, although entertaining for HBO and fight fans, was panned as reckless by Bradley’s corner, not least of all the man who reared him for this most taxing of professions, his father.  By his own admission, Bradley entered the ring versus Provodnikov with war on his mind. Despite possessing the capability to box the powerful Russian, which he proved during the course of the match, Bradley believed he needed to make a statement that would silence the legions of insiders and fight fans who viewed his victory over Manny Pacquiao as anything but legitimate; and silence them he did or at least quiet them down. Perhaps, Bradley was on to something as nothing exacts respect as one brought to the brink of destruction only to will oneself back to life.

 This was the monster the younger Bradley was referring to when answering the concerns of the father whose truck he had to out run as a boy, lest he have his “…little ass run over.” This was the monster the Champion so effortlessly accessed, even to his own peril. This was the monster whose boyish frame and will were transformed through severe means only champions can appreciate, into what Max Kellerman excitingly referred to as, “…steel,” all under the watchful eye of his father. So it should not have come as a surprise to Sr. that his charge who he meticulously groomed for this life of pain was merely “about his father’s business.”

The world of sport is littered with tales of manipulative patriarchs living vicariously through their spawn, building them up not to stand firmly on their own, but to be gifted puppets for father’s bidding. However, there are those successful examples of fathers who though just as demanding have clearly made men, not just champions. Prizefighting the most exacting and unforgiving of all sports arguably yields the most intriguing study of this partnership between father and son. The father, who births and nurtures the boy, breaks him and rebuilds a man of war. It’s a spiritual and psychological high wire act that puts the entire relationship at risk. One or few false moves by the father can cripple the vulnerable boy whose sole dependence is upon him even into manhood, making even those well honed gifts and earned successes burdensome, leaving a wounded man-child who torments himself seeking to break free of the man who is nothing more than a Svengali, yet, pining away for the blessing, the approval, the validation all desire from their fathers.

Such is the trepidation of fatherhood. Thus spake the fictional Don Vito Corleone, “women and children can afford to be careless, but not men.” Can you observe the state of our homes and our society as a whole and disagree? Contrary to all we’ve been told, manhood, like the maturation of a champion requires the utmost care.  Thus, the intent of every, would be builder of champions must be of the purest stuff. Not a father frozen in the bygone days of his own failures or unfulfilled hopes attempting to redeem himself via his child, but a man who seeks to erect one greater than himself, the true end of fatherhood.








© 2014

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

The Resurrection of Miguel Cotto

Barely a year ago the sentiment surrounding the career of Miguel Angel Cotto was rather pessimistic to say the least. Having suffered two consecutive losses coupled with daunting distractions outside the ropes, the overwhelming consensus was that we were watching the end of an era. The quiet man of Puerto Rico was spent, and would simply fade into memory. However, much like Juan Manuel Marquez, Cotto has a stubborn case of resilience.  From the car accident that nearly claimed his career to the contentious break with trainer and uncle Evangilista Cotto, to the many breathtaking battles that saw him bounce back from the brink of defeat as he did against the hard hitting Ricardo Torres or switch gears mid fight to completely and unexpectedly outbox the legendary Shane Mosley, Miguel Angel Cotto has found a way, time and again to endure.  But, endurance is not enough. There’s a science to sticking it out and that fine art is called resilience. The stoic, poker faced champion possesses a particularly high and underrated boxing IQ which has made him one of boxing’s most fluid boxer-punchers, yet, there resides within the inner workings of the man, something that cannot be taught, a capacity to overcome. This resilience has bade him well in the face of encounters so violent they would exact the career of most fighters, even among the elite, as was the case when he fell to the loaded gloved-hands of the disgraced Antonio Margarito. Yet, not very long ago few could have imagined Miguel Cotto, Middleweight Champion of the World.

Though his victory over Delvin Rodriquez was expected, the vicious manner in which he went about it clearly signaled the dawn of a renewed fighter. In a performance reminiscent in dominance to that of the iconic and recent Hall of Famer, Felix “Tito” Trinidad’s bludgeoning of William Joppy in his Middleweight debut, Miguel Cotto soundly overwhelmed Argentina’s gallant, yet worn Middleweight champion Sergio Martinez; and make no mistake, even if this fight happened a few years ago, Miguel Cotto would still be the better fighter. Sergio Martinez, the gentleman sportsman, with fast hands and true grit, is of the fold of great athletes who just so happen to box rather well, which is to say, his natural gifts allowed him to get away with many a pugilistic iniquity for a time, against good, but, lesser competition. Unfortunately, those well-cultivated habits have an inconvenient way of sprouting versus a boxer of the caliber of Miguel Cotto, who is not merely a gifted athlete, but a pugilist in the very marrow of his bones.

The resurrection of Miguel Angel Cotto corroborates the stubborn reality that boxing is alive and well. This historic victory affords Cotto a much-coveted place within the mix of some very intriguing possibilities from 160 to 147. Cotto has never looked more powerful and comfortable than he does at Middleweight. However, this is prize fighting and no one can deny the mega paydays reside closer to the Welterweight division where the sport’s biggest draws rule. Yet, Cotto is no slouch when it comes to drawing the masses, as is evidenced every time he sets foot in Madison Square Garden, and thus, needn’t chase the likes of Mayweather or Pacquiao to eat. A match up versus Peter Quillan or Gennady Golovkin would no doubt stir the public’s interest, but a showdown with Mexico’s Saul Alvarez would send fight fans into a frenzy of epic proportions, assuming Canelo gets past the very formidable Erislandy Lara. Stay tuned there are some very delicious options on the table for the Puerto Rican strongman.




Monday, May 12, 2014

Donald Sterling vs. Adrien Broner


It appears that the age of pseudo outrage and hyperactive political correctness has found its way to the Sweet Science, of all places. Following his lack luster showing vs. Carlos Molina, boxing’s resident would be rapper, porn star and unapologetic Jackass, Adrien ”The Problem” Broner in his post fight interview with the usually honest Jim Gray, somewhere around his profanity laced post fight rant declared: “Anybody can get it. Africans, I just beat the fuck out of a Mexican,” to which Jim Gray, supposedly so disturbed by what he just heard urged Broner, “…let’s show some class and dignity…” Which was about the time I vomited in my mouth, because as we all know “class and dignity” is an Adrien Broner trademark. No doubt inspired by the likes of the NBA and the NFL who are now being pressured into being more socially tolerant, the WBC has suspended the three time champion, Adrien Broner, until he offers a formal apology (which is no apology at all), because as we all know May 3rd will be a day of infamy for the people of Africa and Mexico who were just beside themselves with dismay at the comments made by Adrien Broner. Who knows, perhaps Boko Haram will be moved by Broner’s newfound humility and release the near 300 Nigerian girls they kidnapped.

We all should have seen this coming, thanks in large part to the National Basketball Association being shamed into finally having to confront their longtime resident racist Donald Tokowitz of the Los Angeles Clippers (“Sterling” was added later. I suppose he just wanted to fit in). The NAACP award recipient’s now infamous diatribe against Blacks supposedly came as a shock to the suits at the NBA despite his very public track record of racist activity, which is evidenced by lawsuits brought against him by the government of the United States and housing rights groups, as well as, a lawsuit brought by his former GM Elgin Baylor. To believe that NBA brass were surprised by Sterling’s racist convictions is as authentic as their sudden open armed endorsements of all things LGBTQ.

The problem with doing the right thing at the wrong time is that it ends up being all wrong. 
The right time to have ousted Sterling was when he was knee deep in his nefarious practices, which were authentically racist, not when your league is shamed into making an example of him to save face, despite knowing what he was and what he’d done for decades. Adrien Broner may be labeled many things, even a bigot, but a racist he most certainly is not. Racism requires power. Thus, it is impossible for most people to be racists, and that includes a large majority of white people. Although the argument can be made that many have enjoyed the benefits of racist policies prevalent in employment, education, housing, etc. The fact is, many of us do not possess the power to create or even endorse policies that could harm a person or people based on race. We may feel or express ourselves anyway we like, which may very well be bigoted, but bigotry has no power.  Only when a person or a society endorses behavior that creates an environment of racial hostility ala those famous soccer games in Europe where Black players are pelted with bananas and spat upon or legislation such as the infamous Crack Laws designed specifically to target particular communities for mass incarceration or when property moguls such as Sterling engage in discriminatory practices, etc. do you have racism. Those who marched, bled and died for basic human dignity did not do so because they didn’t take well to what people said or might have thought. They sat in, boycotted, risked their very lives, etc., because they were systematically restricted from rights and opportunities based solely on the color of their skin. 


Broner for all his antagonistic brash enters his place of business versus a variety of men, within parameters designed to give each participant a leveled playing field, the antithesis of racism.  Boxing as an institution is rife with a legendary history of flaws, some of which is race based, yet, the ultimate realm of equality has always been in the squared circle. Therefore, the best thing for the sport and its respective sanctioning bodies would be to adhere to the standard it requires of its combatants, and thus, not be lured into joining the chorus of corporately operated sports leagues in what promises to be an insult to those who endured and valiantly fought the stain of authentic racism. After all, as George Foreman soundly reminds us, “boxing is the sport to which all other sports aspire.”






© 2014