“Please…/I’ll straight cloud your test/you just drizzle, you no worrying me/Boy don’t chu know that I’m “Superman”?!”/bullets bounce off my chest/ take a knee- Bellew you next/bring a Tec with you too- I am that dude”
Well… I had a little fun before the fight time Saturday night.
As a few friends gathered around the card table the other night, picking me apart for being absolutely sure that Adonis “Superman” Stevenson was going to beat up and embarrass former champ Tavoris Cloud, I wore knowing smirk.
He did. And he would beat the hell out of the pre-historic Bernard Hopkins too.
See, when you have a name like Adonis (let’s deal with that) how can you lose anyway? Maybe his mother was a fan of the Goddess Aphrodite (who favored Adonis) and his father that of Zeus (who immortalized him after being slain by a boar), because he seems supernatural. You don’t start boxing at 29, after chewing on bad bologna for being a real life pimp and collecting assault charges, if you aren’t somewhat unique. Now 36, having scaled the Olympus of the fight world, I saw a southpaw of incredible range and definition on display against a granite chinned opponent.
I saw “Superman”.
If Andre Ward murdered Chad Dawson, then Stevenson cremated him. “The Riddler”, Andre Ward (click here to learn why he gets this rather funny and enigmatic nickname), would probably be really tricky and confusing for Superman to deal with. But I don’t think Tony Bellew will be in December.
Stevenson has amassed a cult following with an incredibly magnetic persona, presence and alluring ring style. I’m a fan. And provided he gets past Bellew (I’m certain he will) we have the makings of a light heavyweight thriller on our hands with the surging Sergei Kovalev (not “Kovalov”, as Roy Jones insisted on calling him during his butchery of Nathan Cleverly). I’m gonna go ahead and call Kovalev “Lex Luther”, because he’s capable of drowning the “Man of Steel” in Kryptonite. Then again- the bad guy always loses. But wait; doesn’t Superman have a criminal record?
Oh to hell with it.
The Joker: “That’s not funny!”
Yes it is- and so are you.
For all that Boxing is, and how good it can be, we’re reminded on occasion of just how very bad the sport can be as well. A glaring display of this occurred the other night with the showing of Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. against Brian Vera. Let’s get right to the bottom line here.
Vera beat him.
But he was actually beaten well before the ringing of the 1st bell. In a preposterous set of circumstances, the two agreed to essentially an 11lb disparity above super middleweight to stage this contest. Not only could Jr. not make 168lbs, despite being in his 20’s and challenging for a middleweight championship around this time last year, he had to re-do things at an agreed upon 173lbs after dropping Vera a payoff to do so.
Then he gets the clueless and lascivious Gwen Adair among the judging panel, to drop a 98-92 score against him, after turning Jr. into a tomato can for Halloween. The other two judges could maybe be stared at with that “really?” look on your face.
I can “see” her and her best friend CJ Ross (with her dumbass scorecard on September 14th) playing games with each other’s glasses at Starbuck’s and causing traffic accidents due to over-caffeinated stupidity. She should be ashamed of herself for going amateur night with the scorecards.
Plus we have to throw a chorus of boos in the direction of Jr. himself for this fiasco.
Those of us who really follow the sport with a keen eye can tell what the real play was here all along. It’s no coincidence that Andre Ward was plugging a fight with Chavez Jr. over the summer with Jim Lampley, and Jr.’s weight hovering around 168. Nor is it coincidental that Ward’s promotional issues with Goossen coincided with a not-so-secret desire to strike a deal with Top Rank.
Guess who Top Rank promotes?
The only one completely looked over and disregarded here was Vera, who’s been nothing but a classy and hardworking professional his entire career, while never exactly being a stepping-stone or cannon fodder either.
If there’s any silver lining in this, he proved what a big baby the weed-smoking, cereal at midnight eating, Speedo wearing and perennially undisciplined Chavez Jr. really is. While he himself is not in the class of Ward, he definitely proved that Chavez Jr. is nowhere near it, and hurt the viability of a match-up Ward wants because of the payday it would produce. Or could that be “would’ve”?
Then having the audacity to whine to the world that questioned the validity of his win, while explaining in earnest why he won it, may have actually subtracted from a fan base that would be hard pressed to agree with him.
As the son of a legend, who couldn’t walk in his father’s shoes with two tube socks on, the son of Jor-EL can flip flop his way into legend if he delivers another emphatic victory. Laughter in triumph besets tears in tainted glory.
The jokes on you son.