Less Is More: The Latest Strategy In Marketing Sergio Martinez

This isn’t really about Sergio Martinez. Martinez is one of the characters in the sport who elicits a spectrum of opinion ranging from venomous criticism to idolatrous adoration. These opinions become even more impassioned when the Prince of Culiacan is mentioned. Martinez, as recently as this past Saturday, is vanquishing the opposition without any recourse to opinion. A champion defending his title in his own idiom; his ledger and the manner in which he has compiled it, as consistent as the opinions of him are multifarious. This isn’t really about Sergio Martinez.

No, this is about the new angle spun in the promotion of the King of the Middleweight Division. This is about the Emperor’s new clothes. This new slant argues that Martinez is an undersized middleweight. Martinez, who began his career as a welterweight, didn’t invade the middleweight ranks until 2009, at the advanced age of 35. The process of aging impedes weight loss, and yet Martinez has reportedly found himself comfortably beneath the middleweight limit the week before the fight. Accepting this reasoning—which is different than establishing its truth, mind you—it can be ventured that Martinez is a small middleweight.

Some of the opposition he’s downed as he’s ascended his perch has been small by middleweight standards as well. In his last six fights—roughly the duration of Martinez’ tenure at 160lbs—he has fought Paul Williams twice, Kelly Pavlik, Serhiy Dzindzurik, Darren Barker, and recent knockout victim Matthew Macklin. Williams, himself an ex-resident of the welterweight and junior-welterweight divisions, often proclaimed that he would face anyone from 147-160. Making such a proclamation presupposes that he could indeed make the welterweight limit while retaining his puissance. It’s a dubious claim, but Williams managed to make welterweight in 2008 while fighting primarily between 154 and 160. Williams is a tall but spindly middleweight, and the physical advantages he enjoyed over Martinez would be relevant regardless of weight division. This doesn’t mean Williams was bigger than Martinez, however. Dzindzurik was an undefeated champion at 154lbs, and believed by some to be the best fighter in the division. But he was still campaigning below middleweight. The remaining three fighters were legitimate middleweights when Martinez fought them, and whatever denigrating asterisk might be inserted is either inconsequential or applicable to so many pugs it’s practically irrelevant. So if Martinez is an undersized middleweight, it’s fair to say he’s paired off against a few as well. Why then, draw attention to his size?

The end game for this marketing strategy is probably that it speaks to people who can be swayed by the charms of the pound-for-pound debate. This particular brand of collective onanism is a viable marketing tool given modernity’s preoccupation with lists and a pervading need to establish theoretical superiority. Consider the debate raging between Android, iPhone and Blackberry, or the passionate constituencies lobbying on behalf of The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, and The Wire. There’s a pervading zeitgeist that needs to establish, on subjective grounds, what is the best. Boxing, as another form of publicly appraised drama, has found its cast tabled for similar debate.

When the criteria for determining truth are malleable, and the consequences for being wrong are nil, the debate is self-perpetuating. In essence, what is produced is the opportunity to witness perhaps the best fighter in the world, or the third best, or one of the five best, depending on the criteria. Regardless of the criteria, there’s room for debate therein. Hitching Martinez to this pettifogging cacophony is a sound strategy: it keeps him on people’s lips in a meaningful way. But capitalizing on human inclination isn’t the sole explanation for trumpeting this line of reasoning.

Martinez has of late received criticism for his kvetching over the reticence of Mayweather and Pacquiao. There’s been a shift in ethos, and some who once admonished the sport’s two biggest earners for not stepping way up to the plate have now started complaining about Martinez’ caterwauling. By drawing the collective attention to Martinez’ size, the hope is to reduce the criticism he’s received for tirelessly seeking out fights with men who generally ply their trade two divisions south of him. If Martinez is a small middleweight—perhaps a largish junior-middleweight—then pursuing a Mayweather fight isn’t bullying. Mayweather, after all, has explicitly stated that his May tussle with Miguel Cotto is to be waged at 154lbs to ensure that the best of the Puerto Rican fighter is on display. Of course, anything Mayweather says should be downed with a chaser, but the fact remains that the fight will be fought at the junior-middleweight limit. This means that the undersized middleweight Martinez should, physically speaking, be in the running for a Mayweather fight. The size differential is negated to a large degree.

The same rationale can be applied to Pacquiao, though with less persuading results. That being said, the Mayweather fight has seemingly been the one Martinez most coveted, probably because Mayweather is the larger of the two stars and thus more likely to navigate the waters of junior-middleweight again.

The move insulates Martinez in another significant way: it protects him from the rabble demanding that he—since he’s so comfortable challenging smaller men to fight him—take the deontologist’s path north. There are a number of names at super-middleweight—Froch, Kessler, Bute—that could ensure packed houses for Martinez were he to try his low-hanging hands at 168lbs. Team Martinez has responded to suggestions of this nature before, stating that were the right deal to come along Martinez would consider the move. The right deal being as nebulous and elusive a concept as it is, it’s hard to pressure the fighter for not accepting solicitations to come upstairs. Of course, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get criticized for a perceived hypocrisy. But if the public is told forcefully or consistently enough that Martinez is a small middleweight then the move to super-middleweight becomes more unrealistic, more demanding, more dangerous, especially since the move to junior-middleweight is more in keeping with his natural build.

It must be said that this new marketing tactic for Martinez is brilliant. It’s arguably rooted in truth, bears a fruit most find delicious, and provides a thorny defence. Moreover, Martinez himself is a fine fighter, and regardless of the spin, his performances—even if their dominance is receding—are always there to salvage his merits. Were this really about Sergio Martinez it could be said that his rather fruitless promotional campaign may have finally yielded a crop. But then, this isn’t really about Sergio Martinez.

Ladies Free Before Ten: A Preview of Martinez – Macklin

Given that the first IBR fight preview was a resounding success (the prediction was correct and someone even commented on the post!) you know there just had to be a sequel. Here then, is the prediction equivalent of Wedding Crashers 2…though considering the subject, perhaps Zoolander 2 would be more appropriate. And hey, good luck in your predictions leagues.

Buried Beneath “Legitimate Grounds”

One could construct a fairly compelling argument that undefeated junior welterweight Tim Bradley is deserving of his June 9^th match with Manny Pacquiao. It’s not merely that Bradley is undefeated in 28 professional bouts—prudent matchmaking can insulate even mediocre fighters from the threat of defeat—but the quality of his opposition that justifies seating Bradley in executive class. Bradley has defeated Junior Witter (in a fight many thought he wasn’t seasoned enough for), Kendall Holt, Devon Alexander, and recent Amir Khan conqueror Lamont Peterson. The Palm Springs fighter has the best resumé at 140lbs; his ledger is embossed by the fact that, while Pacquiao fights at welterweight, he has the frame of a junior welterweight. It can then be argued that Bradley has defeated the best 140lb fighters in the world, with the exception of Manny Pacquiao. This ascension via gauntlet in an era where the path of least resistance is beaten smooth, strikes as being deserving of reward. Twentieth century political philosopher John Rawls would agree.

Rawls would argue that Bradley is justified in expecting the fistic and financial opportunity of a lifetime. Having satisfied one of the criteria for reward (strength of competition) while operating according to the rules and procedures of professional boxing, Bradley has “legitimate grounds” for feeling entitled to the Pacquiao fight. This rationale would seem to be supported by the principles of professional boxing: the development of a fighter is guided by a risk/reward algorithm intended to produce maximum financial reward. Bradley’s taken the risks to justify the reward he’s been granted on June 9^th.

However just the above explanation may appear, there are grounds for challenging whether that’s the rationale that delivered the fight. It’s just as likely that it was Bradley’s recent move to Top Rank—no doubt motivated by the opportunity to face Pacquiao—that made him a viable contestant for Pacquiao. The absence of any other realistic opponent probably also had more to do with the fight coming to fruition than Bradley’s “legitimate grounds.” This isn’t to say Bradley isn’t deserving, it’s just that desert isn’t the determining factor.

The role of desert appears in the other consolation bout of the summer: Cotto – Mayweather. Cotto has earned the gold watch that is his payday against Mayweather. Like Bradley, Cotto’s strength of opposition is a virtue: the Caguas fighter’s ledger boasts stronger competition than both Bradley and Mayweather. But his opposition—which has declined in deed if not name in accordance with his diminishing capacities—isn’t what delivered this fight to Miguel Cotto. Nor is it the fact that Cotto, as both the rebound relationship after the departure of Felix Trinidad and a captivating fighter in his own right, is an established draw. While it is as a draw that Cotto can set “legitimate expectations,” his devout following is much like Bradley’s strength of competition: it’s the bewitching veneer that masks the principal motivation behind the matchmaking.

Mayweather chose Cotto because, while he remains a draw, he is unquestionably an impaired menace. That Cotto recently out-boxed and stopped nemesis Antonio Margarito is more a verdict on Margarito’s deterioration than it is Cotto’s rebirth; that the victory has spawned prognostications of a competitive bout with the best fighter in the world only makes the selection of Cotto as an opponent more ideal. The gold plating that was the Margarito performance helps to conceal the reality of the swindle. At his apex, Cotto was an established gate attraction and a legitimate threat: he had both the fistic and financial justification for fighting Mayweather. Now that the threat has been deemed easily surmountable, Cotto is getting his opportunity.

With Bradley and Cotto, the notion of desert can be applied sophistically to explain their upcoming fights. But there is another potential fight that more strongly dispels the notion that desert factors into matchmaking: a fight between middleweight champion Sergio Martinez and cultural treasure Julio Cesar Chavez Jr.

Sergio Martinez has earned the distinction of undisputed middleweight champion, having beaten Kelly Pavlik and Paul Williams, who were considered two of the best middleweights in the world at the time. Yet he is unable to get a fight with marketing phenomenon, Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. Martinez has earned this fight just as Bradley has earned his, and the “legitimate expectations” are established. These expectations mean very little however, as has been shown. Martinez continuously performs before the type of sparse crowds that turn out to watch cover bands in Las Vegas casino lounges. It’s this second characteristic of the middleweight champion that undoes his fistic qualification. The risk he poses completely overwhelms the reward he promises. That he is, as sovereign, deserving of a fight with anyone in the division, is irrelevant. The same business logic that is keeping Martinez from Chavez Jr is keeping a deserving opponent like Dmitry Pirog from Martinez.

Finally, consider the rematch between Lamont Peterson and Amir Khan. Given Khan’s protracted, petulant tantrum—enabled and abetted by his promotional company—Peterson has justifiable grounds for ignoring Khan’s wailing for a rematch. Others will argue that the closeness of the affair is why Khan deserves the opportunity to regain some hardware. Ultimately, it’s the most lucrative fight available to Peterson, which is probably why it’s happening.

This is not to say that Tim Bradley doesn’t deserve the opportunity to test himself against Manny Pacquiao, and to reap the financial benefits that accompany the risk. Nor is it to say that Miguel Cotto, who has helped buoy the sport throughout his career, isn’t deserving of the opportunity to produce the only pustule on Mayweather’s record. These are deserving men, as are Martinez and Khan. But in prize fighting “legitimate grounds” stand for very little, and desert is a variable removed from the equation.