Scar Tissue Part 25: Elvis Sightings
By Jess E. Trail (Jan 30, 2008) Doghouse Boxing
It pleased me that the recent Jones-Trinidad bout did well at the pay per view box office – over half a million buys isn’t half bad for a couple of old-timers. I bought it. I also watched it a second time this weekend prior to the entertaining bout between Alexander Povetkin and Eddie ‘My hero is Dominick Guinn’ Chambers. It was worth watching the second time.

Why did a fight like this one get over half a million buys? These were two former supermen who had experienced serious
soiling of their red capes over the last few years. The reason for many, I believe, springs from the same motivation that inspired me to spend some serious time in Scotland a few years back, driving doggedly back and forth around the perimeter of Loch Ness. Unfortunately, my dogged determination only enabled me to verify the existence of Gary Larson’s Loch Ness Dog. It’s also tied closely to the same reasoning that caused me to take a month long leave of absence from work a couple of years ago and spend them searching for Bigfoot in the Sierra-Nevada mountains. For luck, I brought a friend of mine who smells a little like what I always assumed Bigfoot would smell like. We always called my friend Bigsquatch for the same reason. He wasn’t very smart either and hated the nickname because he thought we were being nasty. We had no luck there either. Success always seemed close, but it was most likely just the smell of Bigsquatch.

We need our Larger Than Lifers. When Roy Jones was knocked out by Antonio Tarver and Glen Johnson, we lost one. Love him or hate him, his otherworldly speed and reflexes were not to be seen elsewhere. His occasional goofing and grooving thrilled many and disgusted others. These are powerful emotions. The Roy Jones Experience brought reactions from the most extreme of the saddled up fence rider and the barely boxing fan. Tito Trinidad elicited a similar
response for one reason – punching power of mythic proportions. Until he moved past 154, he had the power to break the hardest of chins. Add to that an endearing and electric personality and you have a Larger Than Lifer.

I’m quite sure many believed it was possibly the last appearance of one or both of them.

So why are we willing to watch two living legends who are well past their primes? It is for the same reason that since 1977, any guy with black hair dye, lamb chop sideburns and an addiction to sausage gravy could make a living as an Elvis impersonator. It is for a glimpse and a reminder of the larger than life.

Look around at the boxing landscape right now. Tell me if you think we are in the midst of a golden age. This isn’t meant to be a burning condemnation. Golden ages don’t come around constantly or we’d have to call them something else.

We take our Larger Than Lifers for granted, until we feel them slipping away from us. The other night, we desperately grabbed on and pulled a couple of them on stage one more time. And I’ll be honest. I was thrilled. Both men – and particularly Roy Jones – nearly turned back the clock. As a matter of fact, I was so electrified, that next week I’m calling off sick and heading to Roswell. Anyone wanna come along? If so, bring your own peanut butter and ‘nanner sandwiches. I’m only bagging a few.

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