Weighty Issues
As with anything in life, trends and patterns in boxing are changeable. Of late it appears that the in vogue phenomenon witnessed in the modern era, that of fighters moving up through the various weight divisions trying to collect multiple world titles, is beginning to give way to a more antiquated view.
The fighters who are gaining the respect of the pundits and the public alike are the dominant champions who have sat atop their divisions, beating their number one contenders, defending their championships over a long period of time and generally behaving like the champions of yore. A glance at the fictitious pound for pound charts will inform the viewer that boxing’s consensus premier champion today is the middleweight ruler, Bernard Hopkins. For many, the king of the light welterweights Kostya Tszyu would not be far behind.
It was not too long ago that every champion worth his salt wanted to win multiple championships at different weights. You could have opened any boxing publication, randomly selected any interview and almost to a man it would have featured the subject waxing lyrical to generation X about how he wanted to clean up his division then win titles at 3 or 4 different weights. In his brief heyday, Naseem Hamed, the featherweight champion and the quintessential poster boy for moderninity in the fight game, professed his desire to eventually cruise up the weights and face Oscar De la Hoya, this despite the golden boy fighting up at welterweight.
Obviously all of this division hopping was made feasible by the addition of many new weight categories during the latter quarter of the century, shortening the leap somewhat. All successful trends need people to really popularise them in order to flourish and the trendsetters that promoted this modern practice were Ray Leonard and Thomas Hearns. In the latter part of their careers the legendary pair were locked in a race to become boxing’s first five weight world champions, an offshoot off the fierce rivalry the duo shared throughout their careers.
After the explosion, splintering, further proliferation and as a result devaluing of world titles the public became confused and started to lose interest in the sport. Suddenly it wasn’t just the legends of the sport who were laying claim to being multi weight champions, thanks to the introduction of the likes of the WBO, WBU, WBF and other alphabet organisation’s trinkets being bandied about, we were soon looking at world champion overkill.
As it goes with fashion, once a fad becomes overly popular we see the influx of cheap imitations, it then becomes passé, common perhaps and the disciples hark back to an older more classical age. This seems to be what is happening in boxing.
Hopkins’s reign has been welcomed with open arms by the boxing media and the public alike. Out of state of confusion it seems we seek solace in consistency, reliability and longevity. In the same way this could explain how the coronation of former heavyweight champions Joe Louis and Mike Tyson were so trumpeted and celebrated. Apart from merely championing boxing they also championed clarity during a period of uncertainty.
The modern champion faces a dilemma then. Often the big money and the all-important pay per view date is to be found in moving up a division and taking on the best the heavier division has to offer. We saw this with Roy Jones invading super middleweight to tackle James Toney in 1994, Pernell Whitaker taking on Julio Cesar Chavez at light welterweight in 1993, later mixing it with Trinidad and De la Hoya at welterweight, and more recently Manny Paquaio making the leap from super bantamweight to fight the king of the featherweights Marco Antonio Barrera. In May this year the light middleweight champ Ronald Wright faces a high profile engagement up at middleweight against Felix Trinidad.
Although it may improve the champion’s bank balance and figure to raise their profile, the move instantly disadvantages them, as in boxing size most definitely matters. If the fighter moving up is then defeated it is to the detriment of their legacy, as well as their future earning capacity with their most high profile bout ending in disaster.
Shane Mosely’s move to welterweight after dominating at lightweight brought him the biggest win of his career, decisioning Oscar De la Hoya in 2000. Despite Roy Jones ruling light heavyweight with all of the regality and pomp of say, Liverpool dominating domestic football in the 1970’s and 1980’s, the majority of boxing’s intelligentsia hailed Mosely as boxing’s top practitioner heading effortlessly straight for the hall of fame. The only problem with this was that in some ways Mosely’s win flattered to deceive. Although he beat De la Hoya, Oscar had himself also risen through the weights; indeed he started his career at super featherweight. Once Mosely came up against Vernon Forrest, a true welterweight and naturally bigger man he was outpointed twice, the height and reach discrepancy being a major factor. Amazingly Mosely regrouped to see the exact same scenario occur at light middleweight, this time though Forrest was replaced by Ronald ‘Winky’ Wright.
What would have happened if Mosely had stayed at lightweight? He reigned at the weight for about 2 years from 1997, defending his championship eight times. If Mosely could have maintained his weight, who would argue that he could still be champion today and at the head of the pound for pound field? He could even have fitted in a superfight or two with Floyd Mayweather, who passed through in 2002, before himself joining the eclectic mix at 140 pounds. Fighting up at welterweight and especially light middleweight robbed Mosely of his greatest asset, his speed, his power also did not carry with him. Before he made the move he had a tremendous knockout percentage, but his six fights with De la Hoya, Forrest and Wright all went the distance.
The recent showdown at middleweight between Hopkins and De la Hoya pitted two polar opposites in the case for how best to stage one’s career. Oscar more than any other fighter has used the device of moving through different weight classifications to collect various championships and headline numerous pay per view events. Hopkins on the other hand has stoically ruled at middleweight since 1995, with limited exposure and far less big pay per view dates.
How then will the differing approaches taken by both fighters affect the esteem they are held in once the gloves are hanging on a hook gathering dust in years to come? Well undoubtedly both fighters are heading for Canastota but it is hard to gauge who will be held in loftier regard.
Hopkins has established a long and successful reign and will go down as one of the best practitioners in middleweight history along with the likes of Robinson, Greb, Ketchel, Monzon and Hagler. De la Hoya has fought the greater number of quality opponents as he was able to select the cream from each division but therein also lies a problem. Due to never fighting at a consistent weight, Oscar was either fighting great names who were much smaller (Chavez, Whitaker, Hernandez, Gatti) or naturally bigger (Hopkins, Quartey, Vargas), therefore analysis of his career record must be tempered with this. Kudos for beating Vargas then, but less credit goes to the golden one for besting the overmatched (in weight) Chavez. De la Hoya though will never be mentioned with the greatest fighters at one particular weight as his body of work was never large enough, his resume was spread over too many divisions.
Fighters can outgrow a division and move on to seek greater challenges. The vociferous Floyd Mayweather has searched in vain for a mega fight since exploding onto the scene at super featherweight. Currently campaigning at light welter Mayweather has secured a summer pay per view date against Arturo Gatti. With all of the bombast you would associate with the slickster from Michigan, he has consistently called out Oscar De la Hoya for a number of years. Although Oscar has dismissed the fight, being used to fighters gravitating towards a big pay day by talking up a fight with him, with recently moving back down to welterweight the fight would now in essence be a feasible proposition. If it was made though, Mayweather is instantly disadvantaged. I for one believe Floyd is an all the way round more richly talented fighter, but if he were to step into the ring with Oscar my money would be against him. He would receive a mammoth purse and receive tremendous exposure to be sure but his legacy as a legendary fighter would be compromised due to the weight and strength disparity.
Roy Jones moved from middleweight up to super middleweight, light heavy and for one night only, heavyweight. Due to his extraordinary gifts as a fighter Jones compromised himself to fight naturally larger men for the meat of his career at light heavyweight, and therefore remain challenged. This was all fine and good when he was at his peak, but once his talents began to erode he was knocked cold twice.
If Jones had stayed at middleweight, he perhaps would not have suffered the ignominy of being stretched out with his senses scrambled when he found himself no longer able to avoid some punches he used to be able dodge with his laser sharp reflexes. At middleweight he would not have been pulverised with the power of a Tarver or a Johnson and may have merely suffered a pair of decision losses as opposed to the humiliation of being destroyed. Fighting naturally bigger fighters is a gamble which when it does not come off can be catastrophic. Jones despite being dazzling and near untouchable for the majority of his fighting life finds his entire career re-evaluated due to failing in his gamble of fighting bigger, stronger men.
There may be something to be said for a boxer staying at one comfortable weight. We have already seen how moving up can disadvantage a fighter. On the other hand if a boxer kills himself to make a weight which is physically and improbably tight, it can lead to disaster and even put the boxer in grave danger.
Drying out to an unnatural weight can make a fighter seem super strong, wielding abnormal punching power in the early rounds, for example Nigel Benn at middleweight, Ike Quartey at welterweight. The flip side of the coin though is that the fighter has diminished stamina. Dehydrating to make weight only to pile on the pounds after making weight can rob the boxer of his speed, his timing and can lead to serious medical issues.
There is a discipline in staying at one particular weight for an entire fighting life. Bernard Hopkins and Kostya Tszyu are by no means small for their weight, but they are two of the most professional and diligent trainers in the game. Making weight may be extremely difficult but it ensures they are consistently in top condition and able to perform every time out. They also rarely encounter anybody moving down in weight to fight them, it is usually smaller men making the leap up to challenge them. This has benefited Hopkins immensely, facing two welterweights in the two breakthrough fights of his career, a situation with a striking resemblance to Marvin Hagler and his gargantuan battles with Leonard and Hearns in the 1980’s. Eventually through single bloody-minded purpose and perseverance the super fights came to Hopkins.
One must sympathise with the modern day champion then. Do they stay in one weight category and aim to carve out a legend for themselves through longevity and methodically defending against the contenders they are matched with by the alphabet organisations, hoping to prevail by eventually being rewarded with fights against other title holders? This route can lend an already short career a stench of stagnation, a champion having to face a long line of low key, equating to lowly paid assignments. Or do they jump to other divisions like the lower weight triumvent currently setting boxing alight of Morales, Barrera and Paquaio, searching out the biggest fights, for the most money even though they are compromising themselves in weight, which can be tantamount to a huge gamble?
Current events would suggest that the methods of Hopkins and Tszyu hold the key, thereby constructing a legacy at one weight before seeking the huge paydays at the tail end of a career.
