It has officially ended.

Not the fight or even the love affair with Manny Pacquiao, but the boxing
public's loyalty to the sport. And while many believe that once the
fight between Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao is finally made,

"they will come" they have completed misunderstood the fickle nature of

the sport's fan base. By nature, boxing fans are knowledgeable and resilient;

with a sport as unpredictable and corrupt as boxing, they have to be. 
 
When it comes to the current debacle, it's not worth trying to follow the histrionics

and posturing, most won't. At this point, I am not sure both camps can explain it.

The essential problem here boils down to the timing and arrogance

of those involved in the conflict.
 
Fans passionately follow skilled action fighters, not unlike Phish fanatics;
however, when they feel slighted (and this by definition is an enormous one),

they look to other arenas to fulfill that empty space. Will that be MMA?

I am not sure.
 
What is clear is that the fans will act out by staying home. This time, it is the nature

and the timing of the slight that will leave fans clamoring for the exit. They

will take umbrage to the fact that, while most struggle to even find a job, these millionaire prizefighters who are bound to add piles to their stash, can't agree on a drug test. Really?

If that egregious behavior didn't completely rankle the entire fan base, then the daily media onslaught highlighting innocuous banter between the Jets and the

Sharks did. Truth is, the camps destroyed the momentum, thus alienating the

fan base for the foreseeable future. 
 
Eventually, the negotiations will iron themselves out and the fight will come off in March or early fall. Unfortunately, no one will be around to watch it.

Puerto Rico's Finest

I never thought I would say this after watching over 100 fights of Hands of Stone, but there’s another one out there. Yes, another Roberto Duran, albeit a southpaw from the Philippines who is quickly becoming the face of sports . Manny Pacquiao, who has grown in stature and popularity more than any fighter in the last twenty-five years, is the spitting image of Roberto Duran, which is high praise for a fighter that started his career losing twice to average fighters in his first thirty bouts. Surely, placing Pacquiao and Duran together is not entirely unheard of, and in boxing circles the comparison has surfaced thousands of times; however, I think my reasoning extends beyond the ring as much as it applies inside of it.

Having spent nearly a year in Panama, I never thought that I would claim that there is another athlete as cherished in their country as Duran is in Panama. However, Pacquiao fits the bill. The similarities begin with their childhoods. Both men were born into abject poverty, abandoned by fathers, and raised by mothers. Both men had to get away from the dangerous hometowns to blossom as fighters. Duran’s legacy, like Pacquiao’s, was secured through his affection for people who grew up the same way he did. Duran’s acts of kindness never wavered as he quickly transformed from Chorrillo’s gem to an international icon. Pacquiao is driven by a similar moral compass and realizes that his popularity and fame are reflected in the eyes of the 90 million Filipinos who watch his every move.  (Note: Panama has 3 million) Unlike Pacquiao and Duran, not all fighters are capable of, or want to, face the reality of their people’s situation. Coupled with that stress is the immense pressure (on both fighters at their peak) to bring every friend along the journey to get a glimpse of paradise.

However, with the intuitive sense to assist their countrymen comes a heightened sense of self that is impossible to avoid. Often, whether it’s right of wrong, we chide and judge professional athletes by the men in the “inner circle.” Similar to the chaos Duran faced after the Montreal fight, Pacquiao is also teetering on the brink of outright mega-stardom, and the hangers-on posse has quickly moved from harmless worship to utter distraction.  What’s clear is that both men need to be surrounded by friends, acquaintances, and family in order to get into a comfort zone and feel protected. After this fight, Pacquiao has to find some balance to offset the excess manzanillos (or leeches) that surround him. He doesn’t need someone to tie his shoes, and then another to blow his nose.  If he doesn’t clean house soon, then he’ll possibly regret it later.

Style-wise a prime Roberto Duran was the most intriguing athlete I’d ever witnessed.  If you wanted to dance with him, he’d let you have fun for a couple rounds, hunt you down and destroy you. If you specialized on infighting, Duran forced you against the ropes and ravaged you with crisp hooks. If brawling was the best option, Duran suffocated you with devastating punches for entire rounds. Before trainers Ray Arcel and Freddie Brown were brought into work Duran’s corner, he was already an excellent fighter who merely lacked technique and discipline. Arcel and Brown added the polish. Before Pacquiao started working with Freddie Roach, he was also a fine boxer. However, no matter how much critics attempt to alleviate or downplay Roach’s presence, the trainer has renovated where necessary (balance and defense) and the Pacquiao we’ll see tomorrow night isn’t the talented, but undisciplined boxer he once was. Duran and Pacquiao took what Roach, Arcel and Brown gave them and added it to their collective arsenal. With wise cornermen, both men moved from virtual one-handed dynamos to invincible boxers.

When Roberto Duran fought Palomino in 1980 before his epic bout with Leonard in Montreal, the critics still belabored the point that Duran’s power didn’t translate at 147 pounds.  Duran responded by pounding  Palomino, a former world champ, for ten rounds, at times making him flinch before each offering. Cotto is a step above Palomino, but the comparisons are evident. Pacquiao, like Duran, hasn’t convinced ringsiders that Ricky Hatton and Oscar De La Hoya provided accurate litmus tests above 140 pounds. Even if and when he dominates Cotto convincingly, few will be appeased until he meets Mayweather. While Pacquiao is fighting 40 pounds above the weight of his pro debut, Duran also had added 35-40 pounds to his frame by the time he met Palomino at the Garden.  While both fighters have one-punch power, they both relied on workmanlike round-by-round attrition of their opponents.

Politics
Both fighter have dabbled in politics to improve the living conditions of the poor in their respective countries. Few athletes are successful because they don't understand the complicated world of politics and are overwhelmed once they get an opportunity. Maybe Manny will one day be an exception, but Duran had little success in that spectrum.

It’s difficult to find a link between the men in the charisma category. People love(d) each fighter for different reasons. Duran, who could hardly speak English, was barbaric, but genuine. He’d curse you out before the fight, and hug you in the lobby the next day. The hate wasn’t real, but the rapport he had with fans was palpable. To this day, I can’t figure out how Manny Pacquiao went from a popular boxer to a beloved international figure in two fights. I can’t figure out why he’s on the cover of Time. But he has transcended sport, and forced every casual fan to take notice. Although Pacquiao never possessed the irresistible qualities of Duran, his charm is revealed by his engaging, warm personality, combative boxing style, combined with the fact that he came along when boxing needed someone to attach to. Along the way, didn’t hurt that Mayweather had done everything in his power to deter fans from liking him.

At this point in his career, there’s little that Manny Pacquiao has to accomplish. Instead of focusing on seven titles – some more legit than others – he’s beaten 4-5 Hall of Famers in his 50-plus bouts. In comparison, Duran was 71-1 by the time he met Leonard in 1980. For Pacquiao, we can focus on opposition like Marco Antonio Barrera, Erik Morales, Juan Manuel Marquez, Hatton and De La Hoya as his crowning achievements, while Duran had faced and beaten Esteban DeJesus (3x), Palomino, Ken Buchanan, a tough Ray Lampkin, and Ernesto Marcel prior to Montreal. Both men fought in generations that were disparate in so many ways that it’s difficult to make any clear comparison, especially with the longevity factor on Duran's side. No one fights over 100 bouts anymore or moves up from 118 to 160. Beyond the ring, Pacquiao has captured Duran's spirit and popularity. There will never be another Roberto Duran. But he's as close to a Panamanian clone as any fighter in the last two decades. In the ring, with the ambush, quick hands, and underrated defense, Pacquiao looks like Duran, but he hasn't reached Duran status. No one ever will. Duran by KO at any weight.

Happy Birthday Ismael!   King of Panama

By Christian Giudice

Ismael Laguna Meneses was born on June 28, 1943 on Fourth Street in Colon, Panama to Modestina Meneses de Laguna  and Generoso Laguna Martinez. Today, he turns 66. He’ll be the first to tell you that even though one of his early nicknames was “El Tigre de Santa Isabel” that he is and will always consider himself a fighter from Colon, Panama. “Make no mistake about it, I am the Tiger from Colon” he told me on several occasions. While most are familiar with Colon as the hub of the Duty Free Zone, Panamanians recognize it as the birthplace of Panama’s greatest professional athletes.

Along with numerous world champion boxers that hail from the coastal city, famous Hall-of-Fame baseball player and sweet-swinging lefty Rod Carew is also a Colonense.  When it comes to Panama, the name “El Tigre” Laguna is enough to spark memories to satiate long-time sports fans on the isthmus. In fact, it was Laguna who initiated the love affair with boxing in Panama.

While growing up on the streets of Colon, Laguna filled the role of older brother as he protected the smaller kids who couldn’t protect themselves. Occasionally, when there wasn’t a fight, young Laguna took it upon himself to find one.

“I had eight or nine fights for breakfast,” said the two-time lightweight champ from his current home in Bethania. “I would tell people to take chewing gum and put it in my hair. Even if there wasn’t a fight, I would go looking for one. “

During the late 1950s and early-60s, the fight game was growing rapidly in Colon. There were two gyms called Panama Al Brown and Box of Matches where the fighters began to make names for themselves. Laguna, 12, bided his time working for a butcher, where he earned his nickname “Cuerito” or little piece of skin when he drank the blood of the cows to make him stronger.

“Back in those days, I would kill the cow with a knife and then drink the raw blood,” he smiled. “They would always catch me drinking the blood. It was a custom.”

While the skinny Laguna focused on his street-fighting ability, he couldn’t completely avoid the lure of the ring. Back in the early 1950s, there was a stylist named Isidro “Hurricane” Martinez – a national featherweight champ - who caught Laguna’s eye. Martinez was his idol, but Laguna had not yet begun to assess his skill level inside a boxing ring.

Carving his own path to the ring, Laguna decided to take a risk that everyone in the neighborhood deemed suicidal. At the time Panamanian professional Carlos Watson was looking for a local to spar with him one day. Despite being feared in the neighborhood, Watson found a willing opponent in Laguna. Although he was skinny, inexperienced and lacked punching power, Laguna felt he had nothing to lose against Watson. He put on the gloves to the dismay of his friends.

“I was skinny like a worm,” he said. “I went to spar with Watson and the people were saying ‘Don’t do that, Laguna. He’s going to whip you.' I went right at him. I was 13 and that’s how I started boxing. That day I opened a cut over his eye and the crowd started to cheer for me because I was the underdog.”

That day, Laguna cut Watson so badly they had to stop the fight. The speed that shocked Watson that day would play a major role for “El Tigre” when Laguna faced world lightweight champ Carlos Ortiz for the title on April 10, 1965 in the Juan Demostenes Arosemena Gym in Panama City.  While preparing for the bout in Panama, Ortiz tried to get a better understanding of this unknown fighter.

“He was so fast you couldn’t believe it,” said Ortiz. “In and out, in and out, he was like lightning.”

The streets were empty that night in Panama when Laguna stripped Ortiz of his championship (majority decision) with his blinding display of  swift combinations and movement. Not only did he win the lightweight championship, but he became the first Panamanian to win a world title inside the country.  The people still never let him forget what he did for them that night.

“They still call out to me, ‘Champ, champ.’ It feels good. For me, it was like getting my Masters,” he said. “Nothing compares to it in my life.”

Panamanian boxing manager Carlos Eleta claimed that Laguna was a “beautiful fighter in the ring,” a label that many attached to the fighter during those halcyon days. He took his switchblade jab, unmatched class, and genuine love for his people and ignited a boxing craze in Panama that is evident to this day.

Letters for Genaro

Send a letter to Genaro Hernandez and
wish him well as he battles to beat cancer.

Letters can be sent to

Genaro Hernandez (World Boxing Cares)
36 W. 22nd St.
New York, N.Y., 10010

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/group.php?gid=63208706039&ref=mf

Remembering Luis Spada



"The test of courage comes when we are in the minority. The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority."

- Ralph W. Sockman

Upon hearing the news of Luis Spada's passing on Saturday, I tried to recall the day I met the man nearly six years ago. He had no idea who I was, but allowed me into his home for an interview and spent time showing me all of his boxing memorabilia. Kind, gentle and proud were a few of the words I used to describe the man who treated me so well in his home that day. I can still see him displaying a photo taken with Carlos Monzon, his collection a veritable history of a sport that he came to love.

A member of the Argentine Navy, Spada was initially piqued by the sport when he visited New York boxing gyms while stationed there in the 1950s. It wasn't until the 1970s and 80s, that Spada, through his association with wealthy landowner Carlos Eleta, emerged as a central figure to Panama’s boxing panorama. Thus, he will be forever linked with world champs Argentina's Niccolino "The Untouchable" Locche, Hilario Zapata, Nicaraguan Eddie Gazo, Rigoberto Riasco and Roberto Duran.

Yet, for me there is one moment that truly encompasses the spirit of the man. When Duran was defeated by Sugar Ray Leonard in Nov 1980, Luis Spada decided to be one of the few courageous ones to stay by his side. At the time, Spada refused to abandon his friend, and instead followed his heart. Friends and confidantes deserted Duran after that loss. Not Spada. He stood beside Duran because he had “a great appreciation" for the fighter. 

It would have been easy to walk away and forget about the fighter. But after the fight, Spada told him, “Anytime you need me, even to carry your spitbucket, just call me.” Duran remembered his kind words and would later reach out to Spada to revive his career. With Spada as his manager, Duran forged ahead and won his third title.

Although Spada faded away from the boxing arena in the last decade, one can’t forget or minimize the contributions that he made. More importantly, he stood up for and stayed loyal to a friend when no one else would. Few men would have had the courage to make such a decision. That’s how I will remember him.

Christian Giudice

christiangiudice@hotmail.com

 Jose  “Chegüí” Torres
(1936-2009)

Finally a fight for the boxing purist might have been the overall sentiment from boxing fans after sitting through 12 scintillating rounds of action last Saturday night. In fact, WBC welter champ Andre Berto retained his belt with a 12-round unanimous decision over gutsy former champ Luis Collazo, by beating a fighter he had to face somewhere down the line.  

Despite the disparity in scoring (Judge Bill Clancy had it 116-111, compared to 114-113 (twice)), there wasn’t any ambiguity about the way the young fighter dominated Collazo in a final round he had to win. He slashed him with uppercuts, backed him up and created space when he needed to extend his punches. No longer was he the petulant student throwing random punches, but a calculated and aggressive boxer showing his ability to resist a veteran, in Collazo, always teetering on the brink of greatness.

When Collazo shined in the early rounds, the fight had shades of David Reid - Felix Trinidad and even a slight resemblance to Davey Moore - Roberto Duran, 1983, where youth was blindly served on a platter to powerful veteran fighters with rock chins. Needless to say, the losers Reid and Moore were never the same.  

Berto was rocked in the first round, but was intelligent and lucky enough to survive. At his best in the middle rounds, Collazo battered a flat-footed, motionless Berto with uppercuts and left hooks. Berto, with mouth wide open, looked more exhausted than hurt by the late-fourth and fifth rounds. Each time it appeared Collazo was ready to dispose of the young champ, he backed off and gave him a breather.

Then, out of a flawed gameplan or exhaustion, the mercurial Collazo stopped throwing punches in the seventh and eighth rounds. Ironically, that was about the time that Berto started landing crushing body shots, which clearly had an effect on the former champ. His hands stayed by his sides as Berto gained both confidence and time to recover.

If Berto decided to stand in front of Collazo for 12 rounds, we certainly might have seen the end of a young champion before his campaign had begun. Instead, Berto listened, processed and applied. He listened when his corner screamed between rounds to punch, move and stay on the outside and won the last two rounds.

When needed, Berto fought a 12^th round with a fury and intensity that few 20-something fighters would have been capable of. Will he learn from this fight and catapult to stardom? Time will tell.

It would be unfair to categorize this fight as another corrupt decision. Both fighters made a case for the victory as Collazo boxed beautifully, and Berto adapted at every juncture.

For Berto to be great one day, he had to face a man so skilled and ring intelligent as Collazo.  

In fact, Berto made veteran choices that belied his 23 years, while Collazo showed glimpses of a man who still straddles, but has never completely crossed over to boxing’s elite. When the fight ended closed out, we knew we had witnessed something great to start 2009, and that’s a feeling we rarely had in 2008.