Of Cotto And Malignaggi... Of Power And Heart... Of This Way And That Way
By Coyote Duran (June 12, 2006)
Photo © Sally Grossman
Whether you prefer to hear it from Elton John or Chad Kroeger, one thing’s for certain: Saturday night truly is all right for fighting (sorry, Showtime).

With Top Rank and Golden Boy Promotions going head-to-head with main events that many critics believed shouldn’t have been featured on a pay-per-view basis, suffice it to say, it was a great night to be a fan.

I like to admit when I was wrong and with not having seen the Bernard Hopkins-Antonio Tarver bout for the World Light Heavyweight Championship, being wrong about questioning the level of action, or lack thereof, excites me because now, I can’t wait to see the fight. But I chose to miss Golden Boy’s event in favor of the Top Rank joint (live from New York City’s Madison Square Garden, courtesy of Top Rank Pay-Per-View). More surprises to be seen, I figured.

Now as I’ve mentioned in articles past, I don’t go out of my way to order or cover pay-per-views so the first thing that amused and equally concerned me was the lack of chemistry and verbal preparedness between the ringside analysts. Between George Foreman taking every opportunity possible to drop Muhammad Ali’s name, Tim Ryan proclaiming that “fans were literally raising the roof” and Foreman correcting Ryan’s pronunciation of “Cuevas”, I longed for a Larry Merchant-Jim Lampley exchange early on in the broadcast.

With a preliminary fight between two undefeated junior featherweights, Juan Lopez and Sergio Mendez out of the way (Lopez rose to 12-0 with 10 KOs with the unanimous six-round decision, Mendez fell to 4-1 with just 1 whack), fans were treated to a sharp performance by ‘The Other Pacquiao’, Bobby Pacquiao, 27-11-3 (12), who administered a crippling left cross to the body that followed a low-ish right uppercut to lay out former WBC featherweight titlist Kevin Kelley, 58-7-2 (39), in four rounds. After regaining his bearings, Kelley would liken the shot to the body blows he would absorb in his fight against Marco Antonio Barrera, three years prior, which similarly enough, ended in the fourth heat.

In another record-building showcase, Top Rank darling Julio Cesar Chavez Jr., 26-0-1 (20), would patiently feel out Aaron Drake, 10-2 (8), using his reach well to keep his lefts effective. Noticeable was Chavez Jr.’s penchant to let his lefts go a speck low when he let loose. Probably excitement, is all. Chavez Jr. would clock Drake with an amazing left uppercut, dropping him and ultimately gaining a TKO victory in the second stanza. With such a swift beating accepted, Drake didn’t just drive down Queer Street; he packed up all of his shit and moved there.

There are absolutes in life, guaranteed. One of them being that New York City loves John Duddy, 17-0 (15). Duddy’s challenge was Alfredo Cuevas, 25-9-1 (17), a perennial middleweight workhorse who had previously lasted 12 rounds with current Undisputed Middleweight Champion Jermain Taylor almost three years ago but fell in four to Kassim Ouma in his last bout before facing Duddy. For all of Cuevas’ gameness, a good jab and an observant opponent will almost always deep-six a can-do attitude and Duddy’s jab did just that. Combine Duddy’s subtle habit of watching Cuevas’ hands as if to predict when he would throw a jab or combo and the pattern was set. Duddy also showed a good beard, taking Cuevas’ best shots and displaying a good ability to counterpunch but Duddy’s flaw was certainly dropping his left late in each round. Whether or not it was comfort dictating his defense or a little fatigue before the bell is unknown but it’s something that needs to knit itself, lest North Ireland’s favorite son is OK with catching that one big right cross that macramé’s his ass to the canvas one day. Needless to say, Duddy’s plan rooted itself well and a marked-up and bleeding Alfredo Cuevas wisely surrendered prior to the opening of the eighth, unable to breathe properly through his nose. Meanwhile, one would think every Irishman in NYC crammed himself into the Garden to revel in Duddy’s victory. Good stuff, man.

George Foreman’s comment, post-fight, amused me. “That left jab can take you to the championship.” Not by itself, bub.

Now, does being a football player for Notre Dame dictate you receive 25 large for your professional debut? If that truly is the case, make sure you get your junior college transcripts in after your amateur career and before you turn pro, up-and-comers, because that’s a sure thing, kids. Tommy Zbikowski, 1-0 (1), earned that much for his pro debut against Robert Bell, 2-3 (2), in a scheduled four-rounder that only went as far as 49 seconds into the first round when ‘Tommy Z’ planted Bell with a lightning fast combo sealed with hot left hands. Bell would rise, only to get his head spun like a top by one hard right cross to the melon. The ref said “F__k this!” and called as halt to the massacre. $25,000 for under a minute’s work? Man, I’m in the wrong line of work. See, kids? College is good for you!

The fight we were all waiting for was right around the corner, finally. Thus far, a pretty satisfying night, I would say, but to be terribly honest, a tiny little voice inside me was asking myself, “What if Miguel Cotto gets that one good shot in? Then what?” Well, we found out in spades.

Now, I’ve never been much in the bragging department when it comes to fight prognostication ability. I have my days but I’m pretty much the 50/50 guy, really. What was surprising to me, however, was how many fight writers actually pegged Paul Malignaggi to beat Miguel Cotto for Cotto’s WBO junior welterweight title. Was it an 11th hour bandwagon jump or a long-time appreciation of The Magic Man’s sheer boxing ability and quickness? Ah, who cares, man? That little voice would later tell me not to worry. This one was gonna last a while.

Malignaggi, 21-1 (5), would enter the ring loose and groovy while defending titlist Cotto, 27-0 (22), came in tight-lipped and looking pissed. The tension was abundantly apparent when both men had to be forced by referee Steve Smoger into touching gloves prior to the opening round.

Everyone who’s familiar with Paulie’s style knows he needs to make the difference with speed in order to make up for what is an obvious void of power. That’s no sin. Boxing is boxing and speed kills. What Paulie didn’t expect was that after his first salvo of combos, heads would crack early on amid a clinch and Malignaggi would sustain a gash below his left eyebrow, which was kept at bay with fantastic efficiency by Malignaggi’s corner.

The turning point which probably made many a Miguel Cotto supporter point wildly and exclaim, “SEE?!” highlighted the second round when after some swift trading, Cotto collapsed Malignaggi with a sweetheart of a left (that probably mashed Paulie’s orbital bone then). Malignaggi would rise quickly, playing the flash knockdown game but that sucker had to hurt. Admirably enough, Malignaggi would come back firing sharp combos, absorbing a hard right hand in the process before round’s end.

Malignaggi showed a good recognizance of his deficit, power-wise, and compensated, dialing up the speed and backing off Cotto considerably and amped up the chin, taking choice shots and employing better body movement as rounds passed. In the seventh, Cotto would emerge, seemingly fresher, and worked his combinations early, throwing Malignaggi off his game. The right side of Malignaggi’s face would become very noticeably malformed but the kid kept pressing. Cotto would, however, finish clean in a dominant round.

In the eighth, the ringside physician would look at Malignaggi’s face and deem him good to go. Enthusiastically, Malignaggi opened the round with his quick, flicking jab only to be met by some damn nice Cotto combos to the body. It really did amaze me as to how much punishment to the body Malignaggi was taking. What damned Malignaggi, strategy-wise, throughout the fight was the willingness to clinch with Cotto often, opening himself up to a close-quarters body exchange that Cotto would always come out ahead in. The reach and the jab always work but when you get sucked in physically, you ultimately get sucked in mentally.

Remember what I said about Malignaggi compensating lack of power with speed? The championship rounds were supplemented with heart for fatigue, and pain was settling in for the night. Malignaggi would try his damnedest to outslick the bullish Puerto Rican titlist in the 11th round. Beginning the stanza with a huge clinch, Cotto broke out with blistering body shots and a huge left to Malignaggi’s head. Paulie’s distance would make the frequency of Cotto’s connections farther apart but no less effective. To the end of the 11th, Cotto owned the round.

At this point, I’m sure the Madison Square Garden crowd (and Miguel Cotto) wondered what on Earth kept Paul Malignaggi on his feet. Opening the 12th in a heated clinch brawl, Cotto took advantage of the closeness and to wing some hot, short lefts. Post-clinch, Malignaggi tried to take the fight to a distance and work on Cotto from the outside. Cotto would cap off the round, however, with more of his potent work to the body, breaking down Malignaggi’s defense and opening upstairs for a brutal combination to the head. Surprisingly, both men were still on their feet after the final bell and the crowd was reminded that their price of admission was money well-spent.

Now, I watched this fight twice. I know I’m gonna get the barrage of e-mails telling me I was a) drunk; b) high; c) nuthugging; d) blind; or, e) all of the above. Just send ‘em. Part of my job is to accept that kind of punishment for voicing an opinion. Tit for tat, Daddy-O. But also know that I score fairly and my score was 114-113, in favor of Malignaggi. I scored rounds 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9 and 10 for Malignaggi and I scored rounds 2 (as a two-pointer for Cotto’s knockdown of Malignaggi), 4, 7, 11 and 12 for Cotto. I honestly thought it could’ve gone either way, but honestly, I didn’t think the gaps judges Peter Trematerra and Glen Feldman saw in their cards were all that accurate, but that’s them and I’m me. I’m certainly not gonna cry about an investigation. Hell, even Paulie thought he lost, but Wally Matthews put it best when he said Paul Malignaggi came in second on Saturday night.

With this win and loss, Cotto and Malignaggi, respectively, have new roads to travel. Malignaggi’s looking forward to some well-deserved R&R (Rest and Respect) and Cotto’s looking forward to big paydays and more belts at welterweight. I say, do it up, man. If we can get a Miguel Cotto-Ricky Hatton shootout at 147, then dammit, let’s have it. One thing’s for certain: The rest of you cats at welter are in for some serious shit when Cotto comes to town.

As for Paul Malignaggi, by his choice or Miguel Cotto’s, you can bank on it. The Magic Man, bruised and swollen all to hell, is literally and figuratively not just another pretty face. That lad’s got stones.

Hey, I just used ‘literally’ in a proper context!


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Coyote at: theboxingguy@yahoo.com
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