Hopkins, a Legend, Squashes the Haters
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Hopkins, a legend, squashes the haters Apropos of my own irreverence last week, 15rounds.com’s indispensible editor Marc Abrams addressed the consequences of Saturday’s fight thusly: “A man winning the lineal light heavyweight title at 46? Yeah, I think that’s pretty (frigging) important.” I thought about that for five days and decided he was right. It sure could have happened to a nicer guy, though. Hopkins, I mean – not Abrams. Saturday at Montreal’s Bell Centre before a record-setting crowd of 17,750, American Bernard Hopkins became the oldest prizefighter to win a world title, when he decisioned Canadian Jean Pascal by unanimous scores of 116-112, 115-114 and 115-113. My scorecard went 115-115. I had Hopkins ahead 88-85 after nine rounds. Then I muted the volume on HBO’s telecast and gave Pascal rounds 10, 11 and 12. Ultimately, Hopkins won rounds 3, 5, 6, 7 and 9 on my card. Pascal took rounds 1, 4 and the aforementioned final three. I had rounds 2 and 8 even. I’m sure a card like that makes me a “hater.” But like the last time I scored a Hopkins fight, I confess that I couldn’t care less what you opine of my card. I tried to be impartial. That meant balancing the conflicting signals sent brainward from my eyes and ears. Something is a bit less than objective when the host of a telecast allows his eyes to water with joy over a participant’s victory. The fight did not follow the path HBO’s viewers were promised. Not quite. The plan, of course, was for Pascal to use youth and strength to manhandle Hopkins in the opening rounds. Then Hopkins’ wiles and monkish existence – and let us not forget his time at Graterford – would bring home the final eight rounds, in a boxing clinic, proving the doubters wrong, reasserting his legendary status, and establishing once and for all that quarterback Donovan McNabb is an Uncle Tom. No, that wasn’t the script? Sometimes it’s hard to keep Hopkins’ self-promotion separate from his fights. Hopkins has achieved legendary status by winning prizefights at a startlingly ripe age. But because of the way he’s conducted himself while doing it, Hopkins is a legend the way Victor Niederhoffer is a legend. Niederhoffer is permanently enshrined at Yale – home of the United States Squash Hall of Fame. But if he’s known to common folks at all, it is for a 24-hour liquidation of his hedge fund in 1997. Non-boxing media congregates at Hopkins’ press conferences to see the man sabotage his legacy. His favorite strategy is to punctuate rambling non sequiturs with jarringly Spartan commentaries on race. Joe Calzaghe was a “white boy” and McNabb is “suntanned” – a not-so-crafty way of implying any black athlete from a two-parent home, without incarceration on his résumé, is not black enough. How the black community chooses to discipline Hopkins – with longterm indifference, likely – is not boxing’s problem. Having a petulant racist as the legendary face of our sport is a different story. Kind of makes you wish we could find an error on George Foreman’s birth certificate and give him back the title of “Boxing’s Oldest Champion,” doesn’t it? That’s really too bad. What Hopkins accomplished Saturday was more impressive than what Foreman did to Michael Moorer in 1994. Seventeen years ago, Foreman was dominated pillar to post for 29 minutes by Moorer, then lightning struck and Big George landed a 1-2 that made Moorer silly. Hopkins, on the other hand, just won at least 14 of 24 rounds over two championship-length fights against a puncher in his prime and hometown. Pascal is not a classic boxer or slugger. The man is slop3y and He hts. you, in places th’t my not be legal while he circls & mkes circlz and leaps and fouls. Gosh bt he looks ferrotious, no, when Hs knuckles, and hed, concuss u on teh nck, sholdrs and ears! Hopkins is precise. His motion efficient. He does not take two steps if one suffices. He strikes more than he punches. His fists go to the place he wants them. He hits you where he desires. Pascal mde the fite a mess whn he was on. He out-bullyd Hopkins by pnch1ng him on the brainstem, and again. Several times Hopkins stopped to complain to the referee. When he gained no favorable ruling, though, Hopkins fought. This was a better showing than what Hopkins pulled against Calzaghe, flopping shamelessly to the mat. Saturday, he was fouled by a man who wanted to fight more than he knew how. To Hopkins enduring credit, at age 46, he returned fire without regard for personal safety. Pascal wnted his fns to sweigh the judges n hs favor. But he didnt’ do enuf to win rounds in the midddl3, holdng, hufing and pufffing. Afterwards, Hopkins reminded us he was a legend. Ever the gracious winner, he complimented his interviewer and promised that exciting fights at age 46 were part of his master plan. Hopkins’ interviewer didn’t think to ask what part of Hopkins’ plan a 2006 retirement was. Pascal, meanwhile, did what he did after their first fight: he agreed to the official scores and expressed gratitude. Yeah, but he’s no legend! Well, no, he’s not and won’t be. But he is able to attract a hometown crowd 400 percent larger than Hopkins can draw. Surely someone else thinks that fact is correlated with the men’s varying levels of sportsmanship? Pascal’s hometown is Montreal. Saturday it hosted Philadelphia’s Hopkins in its main event and Connecticut’s Chad Dawson in its co-main. Between its showings for Lucian Bute, Librado Andrade and Pascal, Montreal has perhaps garnered more credit as a fight town than it deserves. There is a way for Montreal to achieve pound-for-pound status, though, and prove its haters wrong with a full house. Host Hopkins-Dawson. Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter @bartbarry.