Punch-Drunken Stupor:
"Lauding Lewis, Remembering Rahman"
By Jonathan
David Morris
20.11.01
- Thanksgiving is upon us, though some would argue
boxing got a head start when it crowned a turkey of
a champion earlier this year. But I'm not here to
talk about John Ruiz, so let's focus instead on Lennox
Lewis and the newly deposed Hasim Rahman.
They fought again this past weekend,
Lewis and Rahman did. Lewis won. Well, of course he
won, no one can stop him when he's motivated. Everybody
knows that. Even Rahman knows it, which might explain
his attempts to rattle Lewis' trademarked composure.
All that trash talk seems feeble,
even desperate, in retrospect. Rahman talked a good
game. Look who's talking now.
"I've changed his name to Has-Been
Rahman," Lewis declared shortly after reaffirming
his linear stake to greatness.
Yes, greatness. It's an abstract tossed
around with such frequency that it's become the hot
potato of ringside chat. True greatness is reserved
for fighters who've had moments like these, fighters
who've conquered their own demons, fighters thrice
crowned.
Go ahead, count 'em--one, two, three
times a heavyweight champion. That's the impressive
stuff from which legends are born.
Lewis, already an elitist, has earned
lifetime membership in a clique known as the Three-Timers
Club, a group even more exclusive than the Self-Righteous
League I spoke of last week. How many men can flash
their Three-Timers Club ID cards for discounts at
the local Mickey D's? Three, ironically: Muhammad
Ali, the man roundly regarded as the greatest ever;
Evander Holyfield, the very man from whom Lewis took
the torch; and Lewis, who's no slouch amongst such
company.
Once was nice and so was twice, but
the third time's a charm. Lewis' latest knockout answered
questions rather than asked them. No titles in the
trash can, no bawling psychos refusing to fight, no
legroom for the judges to do their worst. Controversies?
None whatsoever. It's quite possibly his defining
moment, if for no other reason than the fact that
no one can take it away from him.
Every last undeserved pockmark on
the Lewis legacy has been cleaned. Now, more than
ever, he's clearly the direct descendant of boxing's
royal ilk. The atrocities of last April didn't ruin
his record, they strengthened it. Joe Louis lost to
Max Schmeling. Lennox Lewis lost to Hasim Rahman.
Both obliterated their conqueror in the grudge match
and never looked back.
There's further proof still that this
is best Lewis yet. Many predicted he'd do the safety
dance, that he'd waltz with Rahman and show precaution.
He did nothing of the sort. He systematically broke
his man down. This was the same Lewis to whom Frans
Botha and Michael Grant couldn't hold a candle, the
same Lewis who proved the ruination of Shannon Briggs
and Andrew Golota, the same Lewis who effectively
retired Tommy Morrison and Razor Ruddock.
This is the Lewis that casual fans
can't help but respect. Boastful, not brash. Vicious,
not primeval. Greater than the sum of his parts. In
a word: Awesome.
People have been quick to say Rahman
pulled a Buster Douglas. The comparison certainly
has its merits but it's a discredit to the three-time
champ. Lewis, unlike Mike Tyson, forced an immediate
rematch, where he flexed not just his muscle but his
psyche.
There's no telling what would've happened
had Tyson got back in the ring with a reigning and
defending Douglas but there's plenty of reason to
believe their second affair would've ended like their
first. Douglas was hardly a pillar of fistic enthusiasm,
but he had the mental edge. Intimidating as Tyson
can be, bullies break easily. Lewis is not a bully.
He's a soldier. His resilience this past Saturday
proves it.
Rahman had his fifteen minutes. It
took even less time than that (breaks between rounds
included) for Lewis to serve his comeuppance. Yet
the Douglas comparison is trite for more reasons that
one. The importance of Rahman's title reign cannot
be ignored.
Only seven months separated The Rock's
title win from his title loss. It was nonetheless
a long, strange trip. The whirlwind of heavyweight
infatuation that followed Rahman's special night in
South Africa last April was truly a splendid sight
for the sorest eyes in boxing fandom. From Rahman
and Lewis themselves all the way down to the stalwarts
and the upstarts, the division that seemingly had
one fight and one fight only--Lewis versus Tyson,
from what we were told--abruptly burst at its poorly
stitched seams. As it turned out, the weight class
was made of some pretty good stuffing.
Up until Rahman started making waves,
much of the mainstream media ignored our fair game
regardless of its bolstered intrigue. But for avid
sweet science supporters such as ourselves, it sure
was, well, sweet.
A lot went down in that seven month
span. David Tua, he of perennial potential, flatfooted
his way to yet another squandered shot at something
like stature when Chris Byrd danced perfect circles
around him this summer. Meanwhile, Evander Holyfield
and John Ruiz continued to waltz their way in and
out of plans for the rubber match from Hades. Wladimir
Klitschko further cemented his claim as the best big
man that sports editors haven't yet heard of. And
Mike Tyson grew up--like I said, strange.
Prior to this year, the heavyweight
picture was a three man race. Between Lewis, Holyfield
and Tyson, there simply wasn't any room at the top.
That's one of the nice things about Rahman's reign--it
gave the vast assortment of young guns some breathing
space and some time to mature.
Things are once again hinged on Lewis
and Tyson, but what's next is anybody's guess. This
is the Rahman Effect. With a single, solitary punch,
the glass ceiling was shattered. Even once Lewis has
swept up all the shards, fans will notice things are
much more interesting now.
The Rahman era put a question mark
on the division's immediate future, something unseen
since those wretched days of the mid-nineties. The
moment that Rahman's right connected, the balance
of power was suddenly up for grabs again. Unlike the
last time around, it was a good thing.
You might recall that heavyweight
boxing had a handful of suspicious spearheads a half-decade
ago. Contemporaneous champions Frank Bruno and Bruce
Seldon were chiefs among them. They were placeholders
rather than titleholders. Even the most vociferous
of Rahman's hecklers could distinguish him from that
group, a fact that's a bombshell in and of itself.
History might note that The Rock's
Shocker marked the beginning of an abbreviated title
reign chock full of small surprises. Not the least
amongst things unanticipated was the champ's newfound
reputation. At last endowed with gold, Rahman shed
the outer layer of humility that had masked his persona,
revealing a thick championship skin. In any and every
situation, Rahman proved himself resourceful. He became
the Swiss army knife of heavyweight fighters.
When Lewis showed up shapeless and
immobile last April, for example, Rahman brandished
his secret weapon. He uprooted an oak tree opponent
and carved out his own legacy in the process.
Faced with an inordinate number of
contractual opportunities in the weeks that followed,
Rahman conjured the shrewd businessman within. He
signed away his scruples in a deal with Sir Spikesalot,
a decision that could have paid even larger dividends
had he secured a tune-up.
And once the pre-rematch hype got
underway, Rahman showed off his gift for gab and won
over considerable support in the process. Hard as
he hit Lewis earlier this year, his constant ramblings
hit even harder. Calling Lewis' sexual preference
into question may have seemed like a low blow but
one cannot deny that it riled the typically impervious
Briton.
Lewis was the same man whose very
title contention morphed Riddick Bowe and Mike Tyson
into whimpering fools. When Rahman noticed that the
former champ was unnerved, how could he resist? After
all, it had never been done before.
Of course, no king has ever gotten
the unanimous support of his hill. It just doesn't
work that way. Naturally, Rahman believers saw his
victory as the fabulous forthcoming of a formidable
new figure of excellence. Conversely, the Lewis faithful
regarded it as a fluke, a flash in the proverbial
pan of heavyweight history.
Many even went so far as to call Rahman
lucky. Lewis himself likened their first bout to a
lottery. What happened in South Africa was only partly
good fortune. Rahman was lucky to find himself with
an unguarded, unmoving target, but it was free will
that landed the knockout shot. Fate banged on Rahman's
front door and he greeted it with the heaviest of
handshakes. He hit the clincher during crunch time
and Lewis dropped the ball.
Maybe Rahman's aptitude for intimidation
proved his undoing. That doesn't invalidate his reign.
Just think of how surprisingly well he filled those
championship shoes. Was he a Lewis, Holyfield or Tyson?
Not by a long shot. He was far more dignified than
Bruno and Seldon and you can't ask for much more from
a slightly above average belt bearer.
Rahman reminded us that a blip on
the map is not always an abomination. He also reminded
Lewis that the concept of "weight unlimited"
shouldn't be taken literally.
They say that a fighter can only be
as great as his competition. Lewis' past performances
are therefore a credit to his accomplishments, and
his pair of fights with Rahman also go a long way
towards defining--or is it redefining?--how he will
be remembered.
In the twilight of his career, Lewis
has several compelling challenges to serve as the
exclamation point on a career full of statements made.
Two tasks, in particular, come to mind.
First, he needs to finish off Tyson.
The public has savored this fight
for quite some time. Hard to figure why, since Tyson's
half the man he used to be, but if that's what folks
want then give it to them.
The Lewis legend will go untarnished
should he fail to meet Old Man Mike. The champ owes
nothing to him, even the millions of dollars in step
aside moolah paid way back when. But Lewis shouldn't
have too much trouble with Tyson, so why not go for
it?
Some think Tyson's punching power
would be too much. Really? That Lewis has a suspect
chin is a misconception. It's not his chin that's
earned him his doubters, it's his guard. If he keeps
his hands up, he'll keep Tyson at arm's length. He'll
dominate like he did against Tua, though hopefully
in more thrilling fashion.
And when he's done, there's one more
thing he could do: Once again unify the heavyweight
titles.
Holyfield and Ruiz have the WBA title
locked up in a mockery of boxing's multi-sanctioning
body system. They might be giants, Holyfield and Ruiz,
but they sure aren't champions. Not legitimately,
anyhow. Lewis should take on the winner and settle
the score.
An undisputed heavyweight champion
is precisely what the world needs now. Lewis is the
man for the job.
Indeed, the WBA title was unjustly
split from its WBC and IBF brethren, and, in that
regard, Lewis has nothing to prove against either
man. But to use his own words, the WBA belt is "on
loan" right now. It's rightful owner ought to
take it back.
One final note: If Lewis does opt
to unify the titles once more, we'd be well-served
to root for Ruiz against Real Deal. This way, we'd
see Lewis take out the man for whom the titles were
so stupidly splintered, and we'd also avoid a clinching
encounter of the third kind with Commander 'Vander.
Do we really need two Holyfield rubber matches in
as many years? Didn't think so.
Anyway, having mentioned John Ruiz
as champion one too many times for my liking, I'm
going to wrap things up now. The Stupor Mailbag will
return next time, so email me at Stupor@JonathanDavidMorris.com
and tell me why I'm way off base on every point made
herein. Until then, I'm off to Grandmother's house
for some deep-fried cooking, so enjoy the holiday
and/or your Xbox. Word.
Rahman-Lewis: They Could Be [Super]
Heroes For Just One Day
By Jonathan
David Morris
15.11 - Faster than a trudging Tua.
More powerful than a loco Golota. Able to flatten
tall Bothas with a single punch. Look! Up in the starlit
Las Vegas sky! It's a Byrd--it's a Klitschko--it's--it's--it's
a bummer it's only Lennox Lewis.
What? You were expecting maybe Hasim
Rahman?
Does it make a difference? Here's
the honest appraisal: If you're looking for a superhero
to emerge from this Saturday's heavyweight championship
rematch, count on looking further. Fact is, despite
their many skills, both Lewis and Rahman are ripe
with flaws. But with more at stake than two titles--try
two careers--it's at least going to take heroics of
the mere mortal kind.
Take the vanquished champ turned challenger,
for example. Mild-mannered Lennox Lewis by day, Mr.
Enigma by night, he's left opponents compacted and
fight fans confounded for several years now. At 38-2-1
(29), his record is near enough to sterling. The notion
that his career is in jeopardy might seem nonsensical.
It's not.
Lewis--excuse me, Mr. Enigma is a
gentleman but don't let him fool you. Though he's
often turned a cold shoulder when asked if he gives
a damn, the duration of his career has thus far proven
his media obsession. You think he ignores his press?
Think again. He eats tabloid back pages for breakfast
and ESPN vignettes for lunch.
The cynics have left indelible chinks
in his armor and it shows. To a large extent, his
disapproval rating has defined his legacy. Most every
word he's ever muttered has implied his heartfelt
goal to stick a smelly sweatsock in the mouth of each
detractor.
Talented? Yeah, he's talented. That's
what makes him Mr. Enigma.
Consider: Chief amongst his enemies
is the Self-Righteous League, a large faction of disbelievers
hell-bent on delegitimizing his rightful place in
history. Amongst the ranks of their top-secret membership
are press row figureheads such as Mr. Know-It-All
Sports Reporter and Mr. Thumb-In-The-Butt Sportscaster,
as well as armchair athletes the likes of both Billy
Bob Diehard and your average Joey Kegstand.
Mr. Enigma's encounters with the Self-Righteous
League date back at least as far as 1996, when he
decisioned Ray Mercer in a scorcher at Madison Square.
Even before that, he unjustly drew the League's ire
during his who's-ducking-whom war of words with then-champion
Riddick Bowe in 1992.
The rivalry between Lewis and Bowe
began when the former conquered the latter for Olympic
gold in 1988. Four years later, Bowe beat Evander
Holyfield for the world title. Rather than plunking
down a large wad of step aside cash like Mike Tyson
did several years afterwards, Bowe dismissed the mandatory
Lewis challenge by tossing the WBC belt into a trash
can (where, I might add, it belongs).
The hostility between Lewis and Bowe
went unconsummated at the professional level. Lewis
was forced to garbage pick his way to the championship
in a media-driven mess that landed him a permanent
place on the mantle of misdirected disrespect.
In the guise of Mr. Enigma, he trudged
on, going head-to-head and toe-to-toe with every willing
contemporary--even if Bowe and Tyson stood apart from
that lot. In 1999, after years of toiling in unearned
insignificance, he decisioned Holyfield and unified
the titles. Despite all the boredom begotten in that
rematch, Lewis at last netted the prestige he had
long been denied.
He looked outright awesome in his
next three bouts, laying to waste such credible threats
as Michael Grant, Frans Botha and David Tua. And just
when boxing fans began to wonder why people hadn't
appreciated the thinking man's heavyweight all along,
BOOM! Hasim Rahman knocked him stupid with an epic
right.
The mystique he'd labored so hard
to build was shattered. Suddenly, his million-dollar
smile wasn't worth a shoeshine.
Nineties-generation heavyweights were
either banal, bipolar or bored. Lewis demanded his
quest was not like the others. How could someone who
seemed so sincere become so lackadaisical? The answer,
I'm afraid, is secondary. And whether we're made privy
to that answer this Saturday or not, the fact is that,
indeed, he did get lazy, he did get fat and he did
he get flattened.
Take nothing away from Lewis. He was
a fine champion and he stands a great chance to be
one again. He's said he'll retire if he loses. We'll
see about that--history usually proves such threats
idle. But if he does lose, his career as a top-flight
contender is effectively over.
Unfair? Sure, it's unfair, but it
doesn't change the fact that his following, while
rabid, is small. There wouldn't be enough fans to
create a groundswell; he'd lack the kind of grass
roots campaigning that's kept Mike Tyson's title hopes
alive.
Knowing what Lewis knows about how
average fans and reporters treat him, and having managed
to overcome the insanely high level of criticism that's
been bestowed upon his broad shoulders, one has to
wonder how he could justify his physical conditioning
in the first Rahman fight. Such general apathy does
not a great heavyweight make, which begs the question:
Was he even that great in the first place?
This is why he's Mr. Enigma, because,
much like a box of chocolates, you never know what
you're going to get (and usually he comes without
that handy dandy candy-arrangement chart). We'll find
out his true identity on Saturday. Superman or not,
we already know he's susceptible to kryptonite. Remember
when he devoured a batch last April?
Then there's the champ, The Rock,
with his secret weapon a thunderpunch that we'll call
the Shocker. Blunt, even charmingly human, Hasim Rahman's
persona screams Charles Barkley, formative years.
Sir Charles once matter-of-factly
stated, "I am not a role model." Rahman
might argue that he's no superhero and Lewis partisans
would second the notion. Yet the display of power
with which he flattened Mr. Enigma suggests he can
channel powers inhuman.
The Rock is the People's Champion
now, even if the people are just catching on. This
isn't your father's heavyweight fighter. This is the
first legitimate champion of the new generation--literally.
Smug, concise with words, risen from perceived mediocrity,
yet brilliant and fiery somewhere below the surface.
Solid as he is in body, he's equally
adept in mind.
Verbally, even physically, Rahman
has gotten the best of his rival in recent months,
playing and winning most every mind game. He perked
Lewis' interests with questions of the former champ's
sexuality and then put him through a table on cable
TV. That's the kind of ballsy behavior that the division's
been lacking.
Admittedly, Rahman versus Lewis is
a rematch many of us never thought we would see, a
fact that goes beyond the jabberwocky and courtroom
melodrama in which both men almost drowned this summer.
Any uncertainty here is the residue of disbelief.
Prior to the week of their first fight (when Lewis'
woeful physical conditioning was instantly apparent),
few amongst could have guessed that Rahman would shuffle
into South Africa a glass-jawed contender and waltz
home a power-punching heavyweight champion.
But that's Rahman. He's made a living
off of beating the odds. He's reminded us that expecting
the unexpected is what boxing is all about. Come Saturday,
we should expect nothing different.
Or should we?
Lewis has got a lot to lose this Saturday.
For Rahman, it's even more. Lewis has got his millions.
Rahman's just earning his now. Lewis has got his plaque
in Canastota. Rahman still pays full admission. Rahman's
a threat, no doubt about it, but he still walks the
fence. One false move, he's Bruce Seldon, Frank Bruno
or any of the other championship atrocities you can
think of.
And so the champ has got much to lose.
Due to various legal proceedings, he was never given
the luxury of a tune-up fight, which won't hurt him
tangibly but would have benefited him financially.
Nonetheless, he's made up for it by creating his own
drawing power.
I said at the start that both of these
men are flawed. That's true. They're also both spectacular
in their own right. You probably want to know who
The Stupor endorses. Maybe you don't. That's okay
because The Stupor is the boxing column equivalent
of the far neutral corner, so keep on wondering. I
don't like being wrong. Something tells me that, no
matter how hard I think about it, I'm bound to pick
wrong on this one. Expect the unexpected once again.
And maybe, if we're lucky, we'll see
some heroics.
STUPOR MAILBAG
RE: What
The World Needs Now 10.24.01
I thoroughly enjoyed your article and respectfully
endorse your sentiments. This is a good example of
articles that I personally would wish to be more popular,
and comes as a breath of fresh air. Unfortunately
the regular stereotype presentation of news on the
sport restricts an elevation of boxing and boxing
people.
-Leslie McCarthy
Thanks a bunch, Leslie, I appreciate
the kind words. Boxing's reputation is only partially
deserved, I'll agree with you there. But I assure
you that there's an abundance of fine boxing scribes
on the 'Net. You just need to know where to look.
RE: What
The World Needs Now 10.24.01
It has to be Wladimir Klitschko. New blood is the
only way to save the heavyweight division. If Lewis
were to win defeating the Rock, and with the re-emergence
of Tyson, the heavyweight division is headed for the
same state it has been in for the past five years.
Contenders will refuse to fight each other on the
off chance that they would lose and eliminate themselves.
The heavyweight division dictates how the public views
boxing. One champion, the awesome Russian, could rekindle
interest and make the division an active place. Lets
hope it works out.
-Anonymous
Point well taken. New blood is
so crucial right now and Wladimir sure seems like
the juggernaut to do it. Personally, I'm disappointed
with the American media for not jumping on the Klitschko
bandwagon--there's big bucks to be made here for everyone!
Likewise, I'm surprised that Wlad the Impaler hasn't
hired a better PR person. I'd hate to see him get
his break only to be referred to as the obligatory
"unheralded challenger." Fight fans know
he's anything but unheralded.
RE: The
Ballad of Anthony Mundine 10.26.01
Anthony Mundine is just a complaining wanker with
a big head and an even bigger mouth! He claims to
want to further his people's cause, yet he distances
himself from the "Dreamtime" (Aboriginal
beliefs) and becomes a Muslim inspired by Muhammad
Ali. He even tries to talk like Ali, except he talks
a lot of shit. Mundine had an excellent Rugby League
career but spat the dummy when he was ignored for
selection in our national team. He constantly told
the media that he was not selected because of his
colour, when he is known not to be a team player but
an individual glory hunter. Nothing much has changed
since he turned into a pro boxer. He has used his
mouth to make himself rich. How many boxers do you
know who have made more than 2 million dollars in
their first 10 pro fights? He is very ungrateful and
definitely undeserving of this title fight with Sven
Ottke.
-Darren Yates
Very insightful, Darren. Thanks
for the Australian slant on this subject. Mundine's
an inconsequential phony; his comments aren't worth
his nickel and dime haircut. However, if he's doing
it to put food on the table, at least we can put things
into perspective. Anyway, I don't know what "spat
the dummy" means, but it sure sounds uncomfortable.
Thanks for reading.
RE: What
Price Unity? It'll Kostya 11.06.01
You are comparing apples to oranges, comparing baseball
to boxing. If we do this then Kostya and Zab need
to fight at least three more times in just under two
weeks. My bet would be Kostya would sweep in four.
-Donald Belcourt
He probably would. Look, my comparing
the 140-pound unification with the World Series was
not meant to be taken literally--like you said, one's
apples, the other's oranges. The point is accountability
and boxing's dire need for some semblance of it. For
the sport to reestablish itself within the mainstream,
it's going to need a massive overhaul, one in which
a strict set of standards is implemented and--get
this--adhered to. Continuity is something that boxing
sorely lacks right now and your average Dick Casualfan
knows it. Best high-profile example I can think of
over the last ten years: Riddick Bowe and Roy Jones
both had fights stopped on account of hitting a kneeling
opponent (Buster Mathis and Montell Griffin, respectively).
Bowe got the no-contest but Jones got the loss. Where's
the precedent? There's a reason why baseball (and
football…and basketball…and hockey…and
soccer, for crying out loud) is more credible with
sports fans and it's because its wins and losses mean
just a little bit more. Or maybe that's just me, Donald.
I've been wrong before.
RE: What
Price Unity? It'll Kostya 11.06.01
I think [Jay Nady] did the right thing. If it weren't
for Judah backing up with his hands down against a
power puncher he wouldn't have been knocked cross
eyed. You said Jay Nady didn't even make eye contact
with Judah. How could he if his body and eyes were
flopping all over the place like a fish out of water?
Seriously his eyes looked like something out of an
Exorcist movie. They said he suffered a concussion
during the knock down. Imagine him getting hit like
that again and him being hospitalized. It would have
been awful. He should fight Mayweather. You should
probably stay home and watch that one if it ever happens.
-Francisco Cacho
Jay Nady's involvement isn't a
black and white issue, even though people seem to
be evenly divided (based on which fighter they were
rooting for, mostly). It's not the fact that the fight
was stopped that I have a problem with. If Judah couldn't
continue then so be it. Flopping or not, Judah should
have been given a ten count at the very least. Instead,
Nady determined that Judah was incapable of continuing
without fully investigating the fighter's condition.
For being something less than thorough, Nady interjected
himself as an X-factor, which a good referee shouldn't
do. I very much respect Nady and I definitely respect
what he did. I just wish he'd done differently, that's
all. And nothing justifies Judah's asinine behavior
afterwards. Nothing. Believe me, Francisco, I'd stay
home to watch either of these men versus Mayweather.
RE: Mayweather's
2001: A Space Oddity 11.06.01
"Mayweather's 2001" was possibly the most
disgusting and hateful boxing article I have ever
read. Mayweather has been nothing short of brilliant
since winning his world title. After the Angel Manfredy
fight, Mayweather made some unpopular comments about
a "slave contract." He made those comments
back in late '99. Get over it already. I understand
that the word "slave" still fascinates you
media guys but please let it DIE. Maybe you haven't
heard but Frank Maloney just called the contract that
Lennox Lewis offered him a "slave contract."
Why is there no ink on that one? I'll tell you why.
It's a white guy that said it and you're better off
not saying a damn thing about it...case closed. You
say the kid is undeserving of his high pound-for-pound
rankings but yet you're overrating Shane Mosley. He's
as unproven and overrated as they come but I can only
blame ignorant reporters such as yourself for making
him into something he is not. Mayweather will win
tomorrow [11.03.01] in grand fashion and once again
you'll have nothing but hard feelings and low self-esteem.
-Mike Hall
Hateful? Hateful how? Come on,
Mike. Get a grip. First of all, in regards to Mosley,
it looks like I'll have to whip out the evidence in
order to make my case here. Check the archives on
my site--you'll find there an article, written on
the 25th of July, detailing my grievances with Mosley's
poor opponent selection. So next time you call someone
ignorant, at least do your homework first. Secondly,
if you're trying to paint me as a racist, you're barking
up the wrong tree, pal. I don't dig that. Frank Maloney's
retarded; the reasons I haven't personally commented
on him are: (1) The last time I wrote was prior to
his making that statement; and (2) He's insignificant
anyhow. I hate to get all defensive over something
like this. Really, I do. We can agree to disagree
on Mayweather (and I was impressed by his courage
last Saturday against Jesus Chavez, if you still care
to know), but I won't sit here and let you tell me
that I dislike him because he's not white. Once again,
I'll quote myself. On the tenth of October, I wrote
this: "To be quite honest, a man's color, religion,
ethnicity or what have you, it's all entirely relative
to me. I respect a good person and despise a bad one,
categorizations be damned. Despite its occasional
exploitation of such themes, the boxing world mostly
feels the same." Again, if you don't believe
me, it's on the site. Anyway, thanks for reading,
Mike. Your opinion is respected and hopefully we can
find a middle ground next time around.
As always, the Stupor is an open invitation
for marked disapproval. Send your comments to Stupor@JonathanDavidMorris.com.
All responses will come in the form of this here mailbag
section, so please include your name for attribution
purposes. I'll be off in a dark corner somewhere,
playing my new Xbox all weekend long, but I'll be
back next week to rant about something or another.
Until then, rock on.
