Sometimes a fighter
wins but really
loses. It's all
about the end game.
The classic case of
this involved
Riddick Bowe's two
brutal battles with
the "Foul Pole,"
Andrew Golota.
When Big Daddy met
Evander Holyfield
for the third time
in the mid-90's, he
did not look nearly
as fit as the
fighter who won the
title three years
earlier. His
training routine has
dropped off
considerably, but
his eating habits
had increased
considerably.
When those two
variables intersect,
the result is not a
good thing. And it
showed during the
last fight of this
hard fought trilogy.
A lethargic Bowe was
decked by a
Holyfield left hook
in the fifth and he
also appeared hurt
in the eighth, but
then he landed a
thumping right
during a furious
exchange and that
was it for the "Real
Deal." But in
winning, it was
clear something was
very wrong with "Big
Daddy." He was more
vulnerable, his
musculature had lost
definition, he was
lethargic, and he
could not sustain a
steady punch volume.
All of a sudden, he
appeared ripe for
the picking.
His two brutal fights with Andrew
Golota in 1996 proved just that and
were a case of "winning the battle
and losing the war." (The ensuing
riot after Golota was DQ' d for low
blows in the first fight was an
infamous night in the history of
boxing and who can forget the
overhand telephone right to the head
of the Foul Pole?). Wisely, Bowe
rejected the notion of a trilogy, as
he would never be the same after
these two "wins."
A similar example involved Harry
Arroyo. After his win against
Charlie "White Lightening" Brown, he
defended his title against rock-hard
Terrence Alli, 24-3-1, from Brooklyn
by way of Guyana. The fight took
place at Bally's in Atlantic City in
January 1985 and for those who were
fortunate enough to be there or to
witness it on national TV, it was a
memorable one with ebb and flow
action and incredibly hard punches
landing on the heads of the two
combatants. Savage and brutal, each
fighter took turns hitting the other
with sharp combinations and accurate
shots. Harry was hurt by a vicious
uppercut in the 7th but somehow hung
on. In the 11th, with the fight dead
even on the judges scorecards,
Arroyo, who had been down once,
waged a fierce exchange with Alli
finally catching him in a corner.
Putting his punches together, albeit
slowly, he launched a barrage of
unanswered punches that snapped
Alli's neck back until Referee Tony
Perez had no choice but to call a
halt to the onslaught at 1:16 in
what was hailed as one of the best
fights of the year. Both fighters
were ready to go at the end; Harry
survived.................................but
at what cost?
While the loss seemingly had no
adverse impact on Alli's career (he
would go on to win 29 more bouts
though his last nine were winless),
it was a different story for Harry.
In April 1985, and possibly too soon
after the Alli fight, he defended
his title against rugged Jimmy Paul,
21-1-1.This time he lost a lopsided
decision. Paul put Harry down five
times to take the IBF title away
from him, affirming that the Alli
fight took far too much from him. He
would never be the same and his
career then took a sharp downward
direction.
In May 2005 Diego "Chico" Corrales
defeated Jose Luis Castillo for the
lightweight title via TKO in the
tenth round in a savage war that is
universally regarded as the best
fight of the decade. Both men stood
in front of each other, battering
each other with hard combinations
and power punches throughout the
entire fight. It was old school
stuff and it was simple ferocious.
Finally, in the tenth, Castillo
knocked Corrales down, causing
Corrales to spit out his mouthpiece.
This allowed him some extra recovery
time while getting another one put
in. Seconds later Castillo knocked
Corrales down again. Once on the
ground, Corrales took his mouthpiece
out, allowing him more recovery
time. This caused the referee to
deduct one point from Corrales.
Corrales the got up and somehow
connected with a punch that Castillo
later called "a perfect right hand."
Trapping Castillo against the ropes
and sensing the kill on his wounded
prey, Chico landed numerous punches,
causing referee Tony Weeks to halt
the action. Castillo was trapped
with his hands at his sides,
apparently knocked out on his feet—a
potentially life-threatening
position.
A rematch between Corrales and
Castillo occurred on in October of
the same year. Since Castillo did
not make the weight, the fight
became a non-title bout. The two
fighters continued with the same
fighting style that they had used in
the first fight, trading inside
punches throughout the first three
rounds, but early in round four,
Castillo knocked down Corrales with
a left hook to his chin. Corrales
wobbled to his feet at the referee's
count of ten, causing the fight to
end.
Chico would later lose to Joel
Casamayor in 2006 and it is
reasonable to assume he left too
much in the ring during his first
fight with Castillo even though he
won it.
In 1982, legendary Wilfred Benitez
beat the great Roberto Duran by UD.
Coming in, Benitez was 43-1-1. After
his "win," he would close out his
ring career going 14-6 and losing
many embarrassing fights to mediocre
opposition like Pat Lawlor and Scott
Papsadora. Perhaps another case of
"winning the battle and losing the
war." Today, he lives with his
mother in Puerto Rico. The millions
in ring earnings are gone as is his
wife. His own house is gone as well.
So many battles won, but far too
much lost in the end.
And of course, who can dispute the
high cost Muhammad Ali paid when he
rope-a-doped Big George Foreman into
an end game strategy in Africa.
Sure, Ali won, but the body shots he
sustained from Big George were
savage and would have debilitated a
lesser man. Ali's later "win" over "Smokin
Joe" in the Philippines and victory
over hard punching Earnie Shavers
would contribute greatly to
rendering into him a shell of his
former self. We all know the result
and it is painful to write about,
much less witness. The horrific
Holmes' defeat in 1980 would finish
the job that his victories started.
Yeah, sometimes a fighter wins, but
is the end game worth it?
