Geniuses, Warriors, Braggarts And Other Myths (About Boxing) | 09.21.09
by admin
Geniuses, Warriors, Braggarts And Other Myths (About Boxing)
It is hard to pin down an exact correlation between art and boxing. It is not my intention to do so here, but I will probable use some metaphors and analogies that the reader might find odd, if not entirely bizarre. There is evidence, from Saul Bellows’ energetic paintings such as “Stag at Sharky’s”, to Ernest Hemigway and Joan Miro’s rumored sparring sessions, to Martin Scorsece’s fascination with Jake La Motta, to Shaun Leonardo “El C”’s performance art which revolves around boxing, that for some reason, boxing attracts or at last mystifies artists. One might say the same could be said for just about anything, like say, round things. But that would be pedantic and boring, the reader hopefully agrees.
On saturday September 19, the world (or the remains of that world that still cares a bit about boxing) saw one of this era’s contender for pound-for-pound fighter in the world make his comeback after a 21 month layoff; the longest in his entire career (which began since he was a child). The event was staged as a mega-spectactle in which ‘Pretty Boy, aka ‘Money’ Floyd Mayweather,Jr. would return to show the World that he was not quite done with it, especially with some tiny, ferocious philippino walking around saying HE’s the best (or, sorry, everyone else saying he’s the best which so far, seems to be the case). To prove it, Mayweather would start by demolishing one of the few fighters to give Manny Pacquiao, currently ranked number 1 boxer in the World, a run for his money, fighting twice and going the distance; 12 rounders of blood, sweat and guts poured onto canvas (someone should grab the canvas off one of those fights, all full of blood, sweat, water, mucus, saliva, and stretch it like a painting. Maybe I will do that.), exahusting, gruelling battles of stamina, endurance, skill, and well, yes, balls. Many say Márquez won at least one of the duels: Officially, one was a draw and the second a one point split decision (presumably caused by the only knockdown of the fight against Márquez) which won the battle for Pacquiao. On the first fight, Márquez came back from being knocked down a whopping three times in the first round to steal draw: an astounding feat.
Mayweather, at 5’8 over Márquez’s 5’7 height and 72 inches versus Márquez’s 68 inches reach, gave Floyd a rather unfair advantage. Add to this that Márquez has never fought in this weight, complying to a ‘catch weight’ of 144 Ibs. Which Mayweather (purposefully) broke by comino in at 146 Ibs (and paying a sizeable chunk of 600k to the Mexican), adding to that an extra two or three post-weigh in, it was obvious Mayweather had a foolproof plan and had set Márquez up. Nobody know this for certain until the fight started. Even at the glove shaking it didn’t seem like it would make much difference; Márquez would be a tough opponent, we thought. It probable wouldn’t have, had it been someone other than Floyd Mayweather, who was slick as grease on light speed molecules; fast, strong, methodical. Márquez soon began to appear as a tiny, lethargic man trying to pummel a giant who, unfortunately, counted teleportation and intangibility as some of his powers. Mayweather was never there, and when he was, he landed an absurd number of punches, totalling more jabs than Márquez landed total punches. Mayweather did knock him down, once. But true as taxes, Márquez would not go down again, and kept serious and admant throughout the fight. He is very proud, and should be, giving props to his Aztec heritage and superstitions such as drinking his own urine. Mayweather is proud too, but in a wannabe gangsta style that he believes will earn him more bling cred in a nefarious mix between Muhammad Ali and 50 Cent (one of his fans). No one buys it. He is too dedicated, too disciplined, too…sweet, in a way, to be someone who really gives a shit about bling and yo-yo I’m the man. Self confident and arrogant? Sure. But he is definitely more talent, brains, and tactic than brawn. His humility and sportsmanship, his sincerity after a fight is what makes him a contender to be truly great.
The problems with the fight were precisely all of the above. Now the criticism is made that Mayweather picked on a little guy, that he is afraid of fighting someone like Shane Mosley (a big,strong welterweight, ranked no 5 in the World) or anyone who could be a potential threat to his unblemished record of 40 wins and zero losses, more than half by KO. The entertainment value is also questionable, asi Mayweather appeals to any but boxing purists and lovers of the sport, not the general fanantic who wants to see the Ali dances, the La Motta battles, even the brawn of Mike Tyson. Mayweather put up a boxing clinic, being neither scathed or barely touched, fighting in an unorthodox cross-shoulder guard, ducking, bobbing, slipping, throwing continuous right hand leads, beatiful left hooks from the inside. It was beatiful to watch, and one could not feel but a bit sorry for Juan Manuel. But audiences want to see somoeone digging deep into his soul, his reservoir of manliness, bloodied, tired, and still looking for it. That is not Mayweather’s style, unfortunately. There is no one (except perhaps Pacquiao, which is, supposedly, the whole point of this fight, to prove that he is better than Pacquiao and putting him one step closer to that fight which believe it, would be a mega battle) who can challenge Floyd to that point. And so, only connoseiurs of boxing (if there is such a thing) can really appreciate Mayweather. Much like a Rothko’s purity, spirituality and depth, it just can’t really be transmitted to an audience who wants fireworks like, say, Van Gogh’s furious impasto or Leonardo DaVinci’s delicacy; contemporary art is similar in this way to boxing. They are both subject to an audience; but that audience largely misunderstands or ignores the subleteties that are inherent to these endeavors. Both activities also have a proud and well detailed history, a tradition, and the ages of warriors, like the age of the genius, is well, over (if it indeed existed). Márquez, with his $6 million plus, should have been more relaxed, as Mayweather grinned through his hardest punches, that it didn’t really matter all that much if he won or lost, he should have tried to enjoy it. But Aztec warriors are not allowed such a travesty! They must suffer, dig deep, and come out swinging. Mayweather, ‘The Villain of Boxing”, is similar, in some respects as Damien Hirst in that they know and control the business they are in. They undertand it as true entrepreneurs, knowing and exposing it at the same time that this is not just a sport, but showbiz, and that one way or another, money has to be made. This doesn’t take away from their canniness or their wittiness. Actually it defines it. They don’t fool themselves into thinking they really and truly are geniuses forever (or like the UFC clowns, who laughably ripp off Ridley Scott’s ‘Gladiator’ to introduce each event, which is, basically a cage fight with a couple of rules).
They are simply the best at what they do. Why would you ask for more?
Fede