Tag Archives: HBO

IBR on The Cruelest Sport

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“The outcome was as expected: Tim Bradley won a unanimous decision over Ruslan Provodnikov last night at the Home Depot Center in Carson, California. But the expectation that Bradley, openly frustrated with his career, was being given a palliative in Provodnikov was quickly turned on its ear. Over the course of twelve harrowing rounds, Bradley was repeatedly pushed to the threshold of his resolve by the incorrigible Provodnikov. However much the boxing community may have considered Bradley an imposter on the throne, Provodnikov treated him like a king, and, against such distinguished opposition, looked to overthrow royalty.”

Read A Ruthless Scrutiny: Tim Bradley W12 Ruslan Provodnikov on The Cruelest Sport.

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IBR on The Cruelest Sport

Adrien Broner v Gavin Rees

“It started with his pledge to “put on a show.” What was intended as entertainment, considering the showman, was more than the miserable expectations a mismatch can produce. What was intended as entertainment, considering the showman, was sure to involve extracurricular self-indulgence of the grooming and rapping variety. For those looking for a fight, what was intended as entertainment at Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, New Jersey, Saturday night included self-proclaimed showman Adrien Broner dismantling Gavin Rees over five lopsided rounds.”

Read “A Shallow Pulse: Adrien Broner TKO5 Gavin Rees” on The Cruelest Sport.

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IBR on Fight Network

“In “Federer as Religious Experience” author David Foster Wallace writes, “high-level sports are a prime venue for the expression of human beauty.” Save for the apotheosizing power of resilience and the dangers inherent in miscalculated range, there seems little connection between a game once played by the affluent in v-neck sweaters and the naked brutality of the cruelest sport. But Wallace’s exploration of human beauty in sport reveals itself to be apropos of prizefighting.”

Read The Promise of Beauty: Mike Alvarado Faces Brandon Rios on Fight Network.

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IBR on The Cruelest Sport

“With cruel, calculating efficiency, Kazakhstan’s Gennady Golovkin ravaged Poland’s Grzegorz Proksa en route to a fifth round TKO in their middleweight bout at the Turning Stone Resort and Casino in Verona, New York. Golovkin (24-0, 21KO), was originally slated to face Dmitry Pirog in a much-anticipated rumble for validation by American audiences. When Pirog withdrew due to injury, Proksa (28-2, 21KO), signed up for what proved to be a courageous but painful night’s work.”

Read “Lowering the Boom: Gennady Golovkin TKO5 Grzegorz Proksa” on The Cruelest Sport.

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The Bad Left Undone: Why There Was A (Now Cancelled) Broner – Sykes Fight

“I found that I could not eat enough to vomit enough.” – Christopher Hitchens in Letters to a Young Contrarian

Adrien Broner was to return to the ring on May 19th at the Mandalay Resort and Casino in Las Vegas. Broner’s contests thus far have served as public grooming exhibitions for the undefeated lightweight from Cincinnati; nary has a nick been suffered outside of a close shave courtesy of Daniel Ponce De Leon.

The U.K’s Gary “Five Star” Sykes, 20 – 2 (5KO), had the honour of playing the role of opponent in this less than stellar production. Sykes, like all who submit themselves to the virulence of schooled fists, is deserving of respect. Nevertheless, the question remains: how was a fighter one fight removed from a loss, whose last bout was a scheduled six round affair, fighting for Broner’s WBO accessory on HBO?

A powerful promoter, influential manager, and indiscriminate network might each venture an unsatisfactory answer were the question posed to them (and deliver it straight-faced while munching on the last cucumber sandwich). Like Schopenhauer’s consolation for failed relationships—which was predicated on the lack of procreative compatibility between partners—the businessmen are likely to provide an explanation for gross mismatches that ignores how people feel about the issue. There would certainly be an element of truth in a defence of Broner – Sykes that is rooted in business reasoning, in particular an absurdly favourable risk-vs-reward ratio; but this explanation speaks only to the interests of Broner’s manager and promoter, Al Haymon and Golden Boy Promotions respectively. It is hard to see how HBO benefits from airing such a dreadful product. Broner – Sykes is the boxing equivalent of the Flobee: a ridiculous idea advertised with the phony enthusiasm of an infomercial.

Though the aforementioned troika are guilty of dragging competition through the mud, there is another motivation at play. La Rouchefoucauld captured this motivation when he wrote, “The world more often rewards outward signs of merit than merit itself.” HBO’s preoccupation with “outward signs of merit” is evident in the making of Broner – Sykes.

This is not to say that Broner is completely devoid of merit: he has flashed an impressive array of offensive and defensive skills, albeit against generally suspect competition. But his resemblance to the meritorious Floyd Mayweather Jr., could hinder the chances of seeing Broner in competitive fights.

Mayweather, whose aura depends heavily on his undefeated record, is nearing the end of his career (a career soon to be interrupted by a prison sentence). Since he is one of the sports’ few legitimate attractions, there is pressure on HBO to find his replacement. Broner, who is likened to Mayweather with contrived regularity, looks like a winning candidate.

It isn’t simply that Broner is undefeated and resembles Mayweather stylistically: Broner, like Mayweather, is African American. This is the crucial similarity, as HBO looks to garner and preserve an African American fan base during the twilight of Mayweather’s career. To add substance to the assertion that HBO is indeed focusing on this particular market there is this from Thomas Hauser’s “HBO and the State of Boxing Part 1:” “Sources say that, on September 16, 2010, HBO Sports president Ross Greenburg made a presentation to the CEO and outlined a plan to raise ratings among African-American viewers.” While Greenberg has been replaced by Ken Hershman, the implication contained in this quotation is that HBO is concerned with their African American viewership. With that meeting occurring barely 1.5 years ago, it is likely that this concern is still relevant, and influencing HBO’s boxing programing.

The futility of operating according to such a foolish understanding of fan allegiance is evident in the returns on HBO investments like Paul Williams, Andre Berto, and Chad Dawson. All three men have been heralded as the sport’s future, with that same rhetoric reverberating off the walls of the empty arenas that play host to their fights. Although focusing on this superficial association misses the point, it is partially responsible for Broner’s “outward signs of merit” being rewarded.

Mayweather, while guilty of avoiding many of his high profile opponents at their apex, did not achieve his success simply because he’s African American. Sykes is Broner’s 24th professional opponent. In his 24th bout as a professional Mayweather scored a stoppage of Emanuel Augustus, and dismantled the late Diego Corrales in his next fight. He had already defeated Jesus Chavez, Genaro Hernandez, Angel Manfredy, and Justin Juuko. Mayweather has taken risks in his career, and he has risen to each challenge; his perfect record spellbinds so many in part because it has recognizable names on it. Mayweather has genuine merit. While many of his recent fights can justifiably be decried as mismatches, he manoeuvred himself into the position of fighting in foregone conclusions by beating quality opponents and understanding self-promotion. These are qualities that are not promised by a particular ethnicity, and they are unlikely to develop in a fighter spoon-fed an interminable stream of no-hopers before a disgruntled viewership.

The purpose for Broner – Sykes was not to develop Broner, or to expose him to new challenges in order to fortify his game—the purpose was to capture the attention of a specific audience by means of a familiar aesthetic. To this extent, the opponent is irrelevant. Regardless of public dissatisfaction, Broner will continue to be rewarded with televised mismatches and disproportionate paydays if for no other reason than it is erroneously assumed that looking the part is sufficient for playing it. To maintain the resemblance Broner must continue to win, which means more than just his opponents will lose.

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Clockwise: A Preview of Morales – Garcia

As I was about to toss the chicken bones on the floor and conjure up a prediction, my fire alarm went off. There wasn’t any smoke mind you, save for the incense burning to mask the smell in the cauldron. The sharp beep was merely tolling the death of the alarm’s battery. I hadn’t changed it since I moved in, so I suppose that this lesser warning was to be expected. It was only a matter of time. As always, good luck in your predictions leagues.

 

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Strong Opinions: Appraising the Antics of Adrien Broner

His chosen sobriquet is especially fitting: Adrien “The Problem” Broner is just that. He’s a formidable fighter, with a particularly problematic dynamic of offensive and defensive prowess. These fistic virtues are well established; there’s little trouble assaying the undeniable abilities of Adrien Broner. He should prove to be a rather baffling riddle for opponents for some time. Appraising his antics however, and their effect on his career, are much more difficult tasks.

For some, his rapping and hair brushing are merely manifestations of the confidence required to take part in compromising violence. The Broner apologist might suggest that the gaudery evidences Broner’s security in his own abilities, his willingness to increase the stakes by adding to audience expectations. A man who’s as brash as Broner must do more than simply win: he has upped the ante, adding an aesthetic demand to his ring exploits that must also be satisfied to meet the expectations of the performance. Those who appreciate the theatrics can defend Broner on the grounds that he’s challenging himself to be more than a fighter, but an entertainer as well. And in being an entertainer, Broner is garnering an audience.

For others, Broner’s antics, the thespian quality of his time in front of the camera, are merely a product of a benign childishness. Broner—at only 22 years of age, and yet years deep into his profession—has certainly committed much seriousness to the exacting demands of his particular vocation. Given such a sacrifice, those who take this position argue that the playful young man should be permitted his potentially off-putting antics as merely a byproduct of his age. He isn’t being forcibly escorted through the doors of nightclubs, experimenting with psychedelia, or participating in other activities associated with the edifying hooliganism of many a man his age. At 22, he has spent considerable time under the scrutiny of others, and so his innocuous routine should be forgiven. It’s an instance of child’s play in a man’s art, and it isn’t without precedent.

There’s a third faction which loathes the arrogance and the pomp, that cannot palate the superfluous choreography accompanying the bruising dance. Those who find the ceremonial grooming and rehearsed interviews so distasteful identify a degree of disrespect in Broner’s antics. There’s very little playful about a sport where men break their hands striking their opponents, and some believe the entire edifice is trivialized by Broner’s clownish histrionics. Even a less severe judgement of Broner’s schtick can sketch a rather obnoxious, juvenile portrait. For many, the absence of decorum in Broner’s celebration is an indictment of his class. Perhaps these cruel strokes are fitting, and Broner is guilty of an arrogant idiocy that has no place in what McIlvanney so appositely titled ‘The Hardest Game’.

Applying a Venn-diagram to the above portraits would probably reveal a more temperate characterization: the overlapping sections of the three circles permitting just enough of each perspective to prevent too rigid a characterization. Yes, he has conducted himself as a professional in regards to his first priorities, evidenced by a surgical and definitive stoppage of Eloy Perez last week. But the question of what to make of Broner can’t be satisfied by his record. His performance, which he clearly puts much preparation into, entails more than what he accomplishes during the fight. Adrien Broner wants viewers to evaluate the entire package. He must be pleased to know that many are considering him as just such a whole, though there’s striking disagreement over the sum of those parts.

This process of appraising Broner has spawned a second question.

There’s a line of reasoning proposing that Broner’s theatrics augment his fistic endeavours. It seems intuitive to assume a connection between a noteworthy performance—for whatever reason—and increased viewership. A week removed from his knockout of Perez and people are still discussing Broner’s histrionics, proof enough that his extracurricular activity is memorable. The more interesting question is: will Broner’s antics make him a star?

Broner, particularly in Cincinnati and neighbouring cities, will probably increase attendance at the cards he performs on. This impact can be expected to increase as Broner continues to win under the lights of a major network (conditions which seem likely as Broner is probably the best fighter in his division, and is an HBO staple). Promoted properly, Broner might even develop into a solid regional attraction, somewhere along the lines of Tomasz Adamek or Fernando Guerrero.

But neither Adamek nor Guerrero boasts the appeal of a Mayweather or Pacquiao—neither fighter is a superstar. Of course, neither Adamek nor Guerrero augment their performances with the self-promoting histrionics of Broner. The added ostentation is an important factor, as talent alone has proven insufficient for stardom. Will his polarizing gaudery then, allow Broner to achieve the status of the sport’s most popular practitioners? Or will his antics’ greatest achievement be the production of a schism among preexisting fans, with those eyes that were going to watch regardless simply observing with a reduced impartiality?

The most interesting problems tend to produce more questions than answers. They boast a complexity that requires layers of deconstruction, revealing multiple avenues of further inquiry. It’s often best to handle such puzzles with a cautious rumination. Perhaps Adrien “The Problem” Broner, both in his polarizing affectations, and his star potential, should be catechized with similar diligence, though it’s unlikely that most minds aren’t already firmly made up.

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Critical Mass: Early Questions About Gamboa – Rios

On April 14th, featherweight Yuriorkis Gamboa is scheduled to face lightweight rancor Brandon Rios. At first glance this is a delectable dialectic of speed, power, size, and strength that promises drama and excitement. While the foregone conclusion becomes increasingly normative in big fights, Gamboa – Rios doesn’t lend itself particularly well to prognostication. The difficulty in predicting an outcome hinges primarily on how both fighters will respond to being lightweights. The influence of the scale betrays the fact that at 135lbs neither fighter may be operating at his optimum weight.

Gamboa will be moving up two divisions to challenge for the title Rios lost on the scales. If he chooses to bulk up to increase his strength and durability, this added mass could prove problematic. The Cuban is a dense and muscular featherweight; the question of whether he can add enough functional size to be an effective lightweight is a legitimate one. Even if he adds the weight properly, his superlative speed stands to be encumbered by the added bulk. His hands will remain blindingly fast regardless of the increase in size, he could hold ten pound dumbbells and still throw faster than Rios. But for a fighter whose defence is predicated on movement both the decrease in speed and the tax of maneuvering a heavier body about the canvas could prove his undoing. This threat is exacerbated both by Gamboa’s tendency to become increasingly skittish later in fights—when he holsters his most spectacular weapons—and Rios’ traditionally strong finish. To be stationary against Rios is suicide. If Gamboa’s intrepid first venture north is accompanied by an inability to evade a hard charging Rios, what transpired in the early rounds will probably be rendered moot by Rios’ inexorable artillery.

Of course, Gamboa may transition seamlessly into the lightweight division. Rather than focus on crafting a lightweight’s body, he may simply allow his frame to expand naturally. Instead of whittling down to 135lbs, he could approach the fight with the intention of barely surpassing the lightweight limit by the time he starts his ring walk. The threat here is that he will then be facing a fighter who is two weight divisions larger. Gamboa will retain all of his dynamism, but concede every possible size advantage to his opponent—an opponent whose style is predicated on capitalizing on those very same advantages.

Rios faces his own challenges with the lightweight division. He has profited from essentially fighting as a welterweight: his durability and power stem from his massive size and the fact that he exchanges blows with fighters he dwarfs. Rios’ body however, seems increasingly less willing to cooperate. In his last fight, when he was stripped of his title for failing to make weight, Rios looked like an achromatic adumbration of himself. He has obstinately remained at lightweight to exploit his natural advantages, but the demands of a maturing body are even more refractory. Perhaps Rios’ struggles with the scale speak more to his preparation and commitment than they do his physiology. Ultimately, determining why Rios finds making weight so challenging is a secondary matter to this enterprise. What is relevant is the fact that, regardless of the explanation, making 135lbs could have a detrimental impact on Rios’ performance.

It may be that Rios’ last fight—where he was stripped of his title for failing to make weight—was an aberration, and that the circumstances that produced his first fight of that weekend have been rectified. However, it is just as possible that those struggles were the death knell of his term at lightweight. On that weekend in April, the battle with the scale may be the only one he can fight.

The questions posed by the lightweight limit present a number of outcomes. Rios, if he makes weight without exhausting himself, seems durable enough to absorb the speed and power of a recent featherweight. However, if Rios again endures attrition on the scale the argument for a Gamboa victory becomes increasingly more plausible. If both men struggle at lightweight an even fight may break out, but the counterbalance will be negative: neither fighter will be at his best, robbing the contest of some of its appeal. Regardless of what transpires between the ropes, the scale will probably factor heavily in the outcome. (Especially if Rios fails to make weight and Gamboa walks—which is exactly what he should do under those circumstances.)

With the scale come excuses.

If Rios wins many will attribute his victory to an insurmountable size discrepancy. And how much credit does he deserve for beating a featherweight moving up two divisions to fight him? If Gamboa wins, Rios apologists will say he outgrew the division and Gamboa merely finished what the scale started. None of these narratives may prove true, but the fact that they can so easily be appropriated by the overarching storyline of the fight speaks to the complexity of the contest.

Given this myriad of questions, Gamboa – Rios is undeniably intriguing. That Gamboa has the audacity to challenge a masquerading welterweight without first acclimatizing to the lightweight division should be applauded. This is not Jones – Ruiz: Rios is arguably the best lightweight in the world if Juan Manuel Marquez campaigns at junior-welterweight. He is certainly the biggest bruiser on the block. Perhaps Gamboa sensed that his development as a draw has stagnated in its infancy and he thought it best to seize the boxing world’s imagination. It could be that he thinks Rios plays to his strengths stylistically. It’s a perilous move regardless, and his bravery should be celebrated. This is prize fighting—and Gamboa is big game hunting.

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