Cool is quiet
power. Cool is unfettered
self-assurance, a hyper awareness of who and what you are. Cool needn’t proselytize to all within earshot as to the value of
its worth. Pseudo spectacles, brash exhortations, and cerebral tricks are
unnecessary. For Cool just is and the
brilliance it belies is always displayed in its perfect time. Such was the
ascendance of Super Middle Weight kingpin Andre Ward. As he entered the Super
Six Tournament to essentially determine “Da Man” at Super Middleweight along with
such notables as Carl Froch, Arthur Abraham, Allan Green, and Mikkel Kessler. Few,
if any believed Andre Ward would be a factor in the tournament. The
castigations and doubts about America’s last male boxer to win gold at the
Olympics (Athens Games 2004) began about as soon as he transitioned to the
professional ranks. “He’s soft,” they
said. “He’s protected,” they said. Yet, as the supposed underdog of the Super
Six tournament stepped through the ropes and dispatched foe after foe after foe
after foe, as if not a single one were remotely in his league, it became clear
to naysayers, talking-heads, scribes, and fans alike, that Andre Ward is the
truth. He embarrassed Mikkel Kessler, who was the run away favorite, banished Allan
Green, waded the whirlwind that is Sakio Bika, turned Arthur Abraham into
stone, as he seemed to be a statue the entire fight unable to gage the
precision of Ward’s jab, and had the audacity to enter the final match versus
Carl Froch with a broken right hand and shut him down and out from the opening
bell. There in lies the art of cool, knowing what the doubters don’t and
schooling them one after another.
“You’re a lot taller than I thought,” were the first words
out of my mouth upon recently meeting the champ. Nothing about Ward
disappointed. He’s a real class act and graciously accommodated myself and
other fellow star-struck fight fans with a few photos. Like other fighters I’ve
been privileged to meet and discourse with, nothing about his manner would lead
you to believe he makes his living beating people up. “Perhaps that’s how he does it,” I thought.
He purports himself with the charm of a choirboy ala Ray Leonard or Oscar Del
Hoya. Must be something about those gold medals. You could just as easily
mistake Ward for a news anchor or a banker. There’s nothing remotely
threatening about him and I can only imagine never has there been an opponent
he’s faced who’s not been traumatized by the pugilistic genius that emerges
from that cool demeanor. Even tempered and measured in his words, we chatted a
bit about the state of the game and of course, the question on every fight fan’s
mind, “when are you returning to the
ring?!” I can say unequivocally he looks ready to go and he confirmed as
much, “I’m still in the gym, getting some good work in. I feel great.” If you
check out his Instagram posts, @andresogward, you’re likely to see, among other
things, Andre Ward taking Pilates, a practice he’s adhered to since his amateur
days. “It’s not how strong you look, but how strong you actually are.” One of
his Coolisms I’ll be certain to
remind myself of the next time I attempt to work out, which will likely be
never so I’m happy to pass it along to any of you would be gym rats.
Boxing is prize fighting
first and foremost, so naturally the conversation about the sport and his
present state veered toward his contentious rift with the recently departed Dan
Goossen (Goossen hadn’t passed when I met Ward). Though visually disappointed
about the situation, Ward uttered not a single disparaging word regarding the
matter or Dan Goossen. I was actually more worked up then him. But, I suppose that’s
Andre Ward. Even in the midst of an ordeal that has halted his activity in the
ring, in his prime nonetheless, at a time when there is a demand to see him, he
maintains his Cool, certain all things
will work for his good. Who can blame him? After all, it always has.
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