Boxing Rostrum

Enzo Calzaghe, trainer of Gary Lockett, has been somewhat dismissive of Kelly Pavlik in the build up to his fighter’s challenge for the middleweight title.

Enzo admits that Kelly is good but says he’s mechanical, that he does “the same thing, same thing, same thing all the time.” Just to hammer home the point, Calzaghe Snr says he hasn’t seen anything whatsoever from the middleweight champ that worries him.

That statement could just be a worry to Lockett, though. He’s the one who’s got to do the fighting, and the one who stands to catch any backlash. But, then, that’s what Gary’s getting paid for.

When it comes right down to it, Enzo Calzaghe himself has nothing to lose on June 7th. If Pavlik gives Lockett a going over, mechanically or otherwise, it will be no more than is generally expected so won’t reflect too badly on Enzo despite his scathing remarks about the champ. Should Gary give the champ a real go of it, however, the little trainer will cop plenty of kudos for his foresight, won’t he. And either way, so long as Lockett doesn’t do the sensational and actually win, Enzo might then get what I reckon he’s really after.

Joe Calzaghe has already said that money will dictate who and where he fights next, in what could be his career closer. Roy Jones has looked the man in the frame, but Kelly Pavlik might yet prove the more lucrative option, and even if that’s not the case, I strongly sense that Kelly is the man Enzo wants his son to fight anyway.

Enzo Calzaghe says Gary Lockett will spring a surprise and take the middleweight crown next week but I don’t think he really believes it. I do think his stated low opinion of Kelly Pavlik is genuine, though, and reckon those provocative verbals were designed to set up the climate for a Joe Calzaghe v Kelly Pavlik meet.

Enzo clearly believes his boy would have no trouble beating Pavlik. I say that could be a big mistake.

Ricky Hatton won a landslide points decision over Juan Lazcano, so the huge crowd in Manchester last night went home happy. Making that crowd even more content was the earlier performance of Hatton’s prospective next opponent, Paulie Malignaggi, who struggled plenty before taking a split verdict over Lovemore N’Dou.

Judging by what just transpired, then, a Hatton v Malignaggi fight might not now look as enticing a prospect as it perhaps did two days ago. Bare facts rarely tell the full story, though. If Hatton does meet Malignaggi, I still expect it will be well worth a watch.

Hatton showed all his old drive, put Lazcano under non stop pressure, and was very much the boss. Attack wise it was up there with the best we’ve seen from Ricky. Only Lazcano’s extreme courage, and toughness, kept him going in the face of a steady beating and even then the ref could have called it off on several occasions in the second half of the fight if Lazcano hadn’t managed to fire back with something every time he looked on the verge of being overwhelmed.

Despite being dominant, though, Ricky was vulnerable in spots, and genuinely troubled twice. He was hurt in round eight, and a Lazcano left hook had him on queer street again in the tenth. Both times Juan was aware of the opportunity, and let fly as best he could, but just wasn’t good enough to press home his momentary advantage.

Still has to be a concern. Ricky must have been hurt several times by Kostya Tszyu when winning the IBF title three years ago, because Tszyu was a murderous puncher and landed some clean shots in the course of that battle, but he kept the pain to himself, with no outward signs. No hiding it here, though. And Lazcano, while his record says he can punch a bit too, is definitely not in the Tszyu league for hitting power.

Maybe it was just one of those things, or maybe general wear and tear has got Hatton’s punch resistance on the wane. Adds spice to his next outing, doesn’t it.

Paulie Malignaggi’s performance against N’Dou was a mystery. As always, Paulie had no trouble talking the talk, but you’d have a job finding any relevance in his pre-fight words to what he actually produced in the ring.

Seems to me that three things shaped the action. Firstly, having already defeated N’Dou with some ease to win the IBF title, Malignaggi expected the same again and went in complacent. Secondly, Lovemore fought a lot better than last time. Thirdly, the hair.

Boxing is a hard enough job as it is without having your vision impaired, but that’s a problem Malignaggi had to cope with from the moment his fancy coiffure began to unravel and flop down in front of his eyes in the very first round. It was a ludicrous situation and I still can’t believe Buddy McGirt let things continue like that for eight rounds before getting the scissors out.

On top of that protracted embarrassment, Paulie says he broke his right hand in the sixth round. That might partially explain his disappointing performance after that point, but he didn’t impress through the opening five sessions either.

Malignaggi also did some complaining to the ref, motioning that he was being rabbit punched by N’Dou, but I thought he brought a lot of that on himself by turning his head and ducking extra low, inviting Lovemore to chop down at him with the right. And as the fight went along N’Dou adopted an exaggerated sideways on stance, meaning those right hand shots were coming from a long way back, with plenty of warning. You’d think a boxer who considers himself a quick reflex guy, like Paulie, would have been able to dodge most of them without having his head go into diving mode, wouldn’t you.

Can’t be too critical, though. A fighter must have something about him if he can have a rank off-night yet still win against a decent opponent in Lovemore N’Dou who probably boxed to his own optimum in there.

Hatton v Malignaggi? Why not. They’re talking Madison Square Garden, which would be great because it’s still the Mecca of boxing and because the atmosphere for such a fight there would be special. Last night was amazing with 55,000 people inside the Manchester City Stadium, but they were all supporting the home boy, weren’t they. Wouldn’t be those sort of numbers on hand in the Big Apple but Ricky versus Paulie at the Garden would be played out, hopefully, before rival cheering sections - Brooklynites and other New Yorkers for Malignaggi matching their decibels against Hatton’s travelling army. And with two guys in the ring who really love to fight, chances are they’d all have plenty to make a noise about.

Jeff Fenech will try to finally get a win over Azumah Nelson when he and the once great African meet again next month in what is being hyped as the last act of a trilogy. You couldn’t call it that and mean it, though, could you. It’s too far removed from what went before.

When those two met in ’91 and ’92 they were championship fighters. Their fights had meaning on the world stage. On 24th June, in Melbourne, they’ll be just a couple of old guys engaged in what is really little more than a freak show. They’re picking up a nice purse, of course, but that’s the only welcome thing about it.

Fenech will be 44 when he climbs into the ring. He last boxed against Philip Holiday who destroyed him inside two rounds thirteen years ago. Azumah, rising 50, hasn’t fought since being clearly outscored by Jesse James Leija a decade back. When calling time on their careers, both men were already in serious decline, so it beats me why anybody would part with hard earned cash to watch what’s left of Nelson and Fenech fight each other in 2009.

Their first meeting, in Las Vegas in June 1991, was a frenetic affair that ended in a draw. Officially, that is. Most neutral observers thought the Aussie had won, that he’d simply outbusied the classier, more dangerous Nelson in a battle where Azumah had looked good early but just didn’t seem to have the energy to keep it going against an all action opponent.

Fenech believed he’d been robbed blind. One thing at which Australian sportsmen are truly world class is shooting off at the mouth, and the dust had hardly settled before Jeff was proving himself no exception. He gave it large and loud about the injustice of it all and went on to promise, and convince, his countrymen that nothing would be left to doubt in a rematch.

Fenech was right about that. But not the way he intended.

Azumah had suffered malaria during prep for the first fight. Some of the debilitating effects were still with him when he got in the ring, which would explain why he wasn’t able to demonstrate his full powers and, crucially, couldn’t sustain the physical effort. For the second clash, though, Nelson would be malaria free and more than ready. Fenech badly wanted a second helping, and Azumah was so keen to oblige him he agreed they should fight in Australia where the Ghanaian could expect no favours.

On arrival Down Under, Azumah Nelson told the press, “In my country we don’t beat people, we eat them.” It wasn’t a threat to bring cannibalism to the State of Victoria, just a way of giving the more switched on natives a hint as to his mental and physical well being, and at what he had in store for their vociferous Mr Fenech.

Thirty seven thousand brain-washed believers trooped into the Princes Park Football Ground in Melbourne on the night of 1st March 1992, expecting to see their hero vanquish Nelson in style. Instead they got to find out what world class boxing is all about.

Azumah took charge from the off. He belted Fenech to the floor in the first round, also in the second, and when Jeff hit the deck yet again in round eight, spoilsport ref Arthur Mercante stopped the fight.

Fenech fought bravely in that busy style of his but his punches never bothered Nelson. Azumah, though, jolted the Aussie many times in the course of emphasizing his superiority. Nelson could likely have got him out of there early had he really gone for it but gave the impression he was happy to punish Fenech, maybe because he thought Jeff had shown him disrespect in the wake of the Vegas controversy. And although joyous at having his hand raised, there was a further impression that Azumah might have preferred the chance to punish him for a few rounds more.

Whatever, because of everything surrounding their first go, Azumah Nelson took particular delight in proving himself the better man in front of Jeff’s own crowd. And he’ll always be the better man no matter what happens next month.

Who will win on June 24th? Don’t know. Don’t care. Either way, it won’t mean a thing. Let’s just hope the two old geezers screw every penny they can out of the deal, and keep our fingers crossed that neither gets hurt unduly

Undefeated WBO super featherweight champion Joan Guzman, who had visa problems in the first instance, has decided to move up a division rather than wait for a re-scheduled date to fight Scotland’s Alex Arthur in Edinburgh. As a result the Scot, who held its interim title, now gets full recognition as champ.

It’s a boost for British boxing, which has lost three ‘world’ titles recently via defeats for Enzo Maccarinelli, Gavin Rees, and Clinton Woods, and gives the fight game at large a second King Arthur to complement IBF middleweight champ Arthur Abraham.

Alex getting crowned is a great thing for himself, of course, but it’s an iffy coronation really. Arthur had won his interim title ten months ago by stopping Koba Gogoladze in ten, the same Gogoladze who this week folded inside a round against unsung Korean Ji-Hoon Kim.

Arthur’s only defence of that bauble saw him struggle to see off Manchester’s Stephen Foster Jnr over a full twelve rounds. Foster turned in a lifetime best that night and deserves credit for what was a terrific effort, but you’d have expected a world class fighter to tame him, and Alex never did.

Frank Warren says he believes Arthur will be a long term champion but that strikes me as just promoter speak. I don’t see Alex Arthur beating any of the real top men in this division. And Guzman, in my view, would have beaten him for sure.

It’s as well for Alex that the fight didn’t happen. Even better for the sport of boxing. Instead of entering the ring as challenger, which is what he would properly have been, the Scot was set to go in parading his interim belt, as some sort of champ in his own right. Does that mean that Joan Guzman, while defending the WBO championship of the world, would at the same time have been challenging for the interim title. Or do you think that, fight over, the interim belt would have been discreetly spirited away from the scene of the farce. Yes, too right it would!

If Amir Khan needed to travel a bit further along the learning curve before aiming at a world title, as Frank Warren hinted would be best even after Amir won the WBO eliminator on his latest outing, you’d expect his next opponent to suit that purpose, wouldn’t you.

Why, then, is Khan boxing Michael Gomez on June 21. What can he learn from that? How can Gomez help bridge the gap between the quality of foe Amir has faced so far and the kind of fighter that will be waiting for him when he does go for the jackpot? Beats me. Whichever way you look at it, Khan against Gomez is a strange piece of match making.

Any success Gomez has had in the pro ring has come at super feather and here he is being offered up to a big, hugely gifted lightweight. The Irish-Mancunian is a tear up junkie who always brings full heart and soul to every task but he’s been in some torrid battles, suffered a beating or two, and absorbed a lot of punches to the head in the course of an often thrilling but arduous career. Gomez might be only rising 31 but he’s past his retirement date for me and, anyway, even at his very best was never more than a European level fighter, certainly not world class.

That’s not to say the action will lack excitement, though. Briefly at least. Michael will try to attack Khan like he has everybody else, coming forward in a straight line, square on, hands cupped to his head, elbows tucked in tight, looking to get close and unload his cherished hooks. When he lets his own punches fly, though, Gomez neglects defensive duties and I see him turning into little more than fodder for Amir’s twin cannons.

It’s a fight where there’s a possibility of Michael Gomez getting hurt, badly so. Amir Khan is faster, more potent, and much much better than anybody Michael ever faced. He’s also fired up to do damage. Verbal threats from Gomez have been reciprocated, mutual animosity appears genuine, and it’s unlikely we’re going to see any mercy in there – except, hopefully, from the referee.

So Khan wins again and improves his record to 18-0. His fistic education won’t have moved on likewise, though, will it. It will still be where it was at before this strange match was made.

Building up to his fight with Sam Soliman, Anthony Mundine says he’s a Muslim and won’t allow himself to lose to a Christian. Distasteful and insulting words. At best, pathetic. But some of Mundine’s related spoutings have to get the thumbs up from those of us who like a good laugh.

He says Muslims around the world need inspirational figures to look up to, figures like himself, Zinedine Zidane, and Shane Mosley. What is Mundine on to find a place for himself in that kind of company? Zidane is a three times world footballer of the year, a global icon. Shane is one of boxing’s finest, pound for pound, over the last decade and a half. Anthony Mundine is a reasonably able fighter but, in comparison to those two, he’s a nonentity.

Warming to the theme of self-aggrandisement, Anthony tells us he can be a six times world champ, and rule the roost at three different weights. In a fit of modesty he does say he’s not, perhaps, quite up there with Ali and the immortal Ray Robinson but insists that, having previously been the best in the sport of rugby league – as rated by himself – his combined achievements will ultimately make him the greatest athlete ever.

Now let’s get a bit of reality into the piece. Mundine got flattened by powder-puff Sven Ottke and was beaten out of sight on home turf by Mikkel Kessler. He also was found wanting against the strong but unexceptional Manny Siaca. Anthony simply hasn’t been able to do the business when matched tough.

Mundine did get the better of Danny Green, so credit to him for that because the now retired Green was a decent fighter, but that one win won’t get him far along the road to the ambitions he’s set for himself, will it.

Anthony Mundine likes being called ‘The Man,’ but I’ve got a more appropriate label for him. The Buzzard of Oz. He’s spent most of his career feeding on prey that doesn’t have the wherewithal to put up much of a struggle, and when he goes back in with Sam Soliman on the 28th of this month he’ll just be revisiting the carcass of a meal he ate earlier.

The WBA have told Mundine that after he’s dealt with Soliman he’s got to face up to a "challenge" from Mikkel Kessler. Anthony has already declined, saying the decision to face Kessler again is not very viable. Just to clarify matters, not very viable means Mundine has suffered one hammering from the Dane and has no intention of experiencing an encore.

The Buzzard will avoid Kessler by dropping to middleweight, where, he says, he’ll look for a fight with Kelly Pavlik, Arthur Abraham, or Felix Sturm. Sounds like a man on a mission, doesn’t he, but who does he think he’s kidding. There’s as much chance of Mundine climbing in the ring with Pavlik or Abraham as there is of Margaret Thatcher leading the Communist Party into battle next time there’s a by-election in Papua New Guinea.

The Aussie might conceivably be willing to take his chances against Sturm, a smooth technician but non-concussive puncher who wouldn’t intimidate him like the other two, but I’d still be surprised if Mundine proved keen on the idea. More likely, I’d say, the tried and trusted route of waiting to pick up a fake crown.

Kelly Pavlik has Gary Lockett to think about right now and it seems he may already be pencilled in to face Marco Antonio Rubio next, come September. That would preclude any chance of a Pavlik v Sturm fight this side of Christmas. Maybe Felix could do unification business with Arthur Abraham, though. The powerhouse Armenian is prepping for his grudge match with Edison Miranda in June and a clash between himself and Sturm could possibly happen late summer. It would be a huge attraction in Germany. It would also narrow the middleweight argument down to just two men.

With Abraham’s IBF belt on the line together with Sturm’s WBA title, the winner would be in position to fight Kelly Pavlik for the middleweight championship of the world, as acknowledged by everybody. Except for the WBA, of course. Should Sturm and Abraham indeed meet in what would amount to a semi final, the WBA would fete the winner as super champion, as it does in these situations, while simultaneously, and ludicrously, declaring its world title vacant.

Enter Anthony Mundine. The WBA has treated Anthony like a favourite son so far and there's no reason to expect such treatment won't continue, as and when the opportunity arises. In the wake of an Abraham v Sturm fight the WBA would likely look to fill its phantom vacancy by sanctioning Mundine against somebody he'd be expected to beat. If going to plan, Anthony would then have yet another belt around his waist, ostensibly making him a three times, two weight world champion. Wouldn't be the case, though, would it. Not at all. Except in his own imagination and the eyes of any gullibles Down Under who can’t see past the bullshit.

When Andre Ward won the Olympic light heavyweight title at Athens in 2004 he obviously looked an accomplished boxer but what stood out about him most was his status as the only USA entry to strike gold in that tournament. The standout thing about Ward when he turned pro, though, was the decision to campaign him at middleweight.

The light heavyweight ceiling in amateur boxing is 178 pounds. Andre scaled 165 on pro debut, which is the amateur middleweight maximum, though not in the paid code where the championship limit is 160 pounds.

If Ward, at 165, was fighting fit to take on paid opposition the question has to be why he couldn’t have weighed the same in the amateur code instead of having to confront boxers, including world class Olympians, who were up to 13 pounds heavier than that. Seems bizarre that anyone would willingly concede such a natural advantage, doesn’t it, even though Ward was carrying enough unnecessary extra to make it appear, cosmetically, that he was competing with same-size guys.

In the pros you could say Andre has been disadvantaged to the other extreme. Or, rather, he was for a while. 165 on debut, Ward’s second and third outings saw him come in at 164, followed by 163. Clearly satisfied the reduction wasn’t harming their fighter, Ward’s camp then trimmed him more severely and through the next seven fights - on the way to ten straight wins - Andre never weighed more than one pound over 160.

Watching Ward’s fights back then you would hardly have suspected he’d been drained at the scales, because most of the time he looked so good and sharp, but it must have been a real issue for his people to suddenly jump him up to super middle where he’s now had five fights – all stoppage wins – in running his record to 15-0.

And maybe fighting too light had a bearing on Andre’s one blemish thus far, which came in his seventh start.

Ward has such natural gifts, easy graceful movement, lovely balance, rapid accurate hands, it was never hard to envisage him as a champ-to-be if he wanted it badly enough. When rugged Darnell Boone decked him in the fourth of a six rounder, though, some doubts set in, not because Ward was knocked down but on account of the way he boxed the rest of the contest.

Prudently fending off Boone for what was left of the knockdown round was the right thing to do but Ward spent the remains of the fight boxing in that same cautious manner, containing an excited Darnell and doing sufficient to outbox him but not looking confident enough to reimpose himself. Andre won okay but the nervousness in him after being floored made you wonder how he’d react, or cope, if in a similar situation against someone classier and fiercer than Darnell Boone.

So, what happened in that fight might have indicated a core weakness in Ward. Most likely, though, we might now think, his vulnerable moment owed more to the draining effects of unnatural weight reduction than any flaw in the Ward jaw, and was a tip-off that Andre should be boxing in the next division up. Well, it took another three outings after that one for the penny to drop, but now he is. And that’s not good news for other super middleweight aspirants.

Andre Ward beat the odds to capture gold and was up against it as a pro too when pitched in around 160 pounds. His path in both spheres could, and perhaps should, have been eased by those in control. Now that he’s comfortable boxing in his proper slot, who knows what Andre can achieve. Sheer talent like his doesn’t show up very often.

Gary Lockett will challenge Kelly Pavlik in Atlantic City next month on the strength of being the WBO’s number one middleweight contender, but quite how he got himself into that elevated position is anybody’s guess. Suffice it to say the WBO works in mysterious ways. As ever.

Lockett just makes it into the WBC top fifteen in bottom place, while he doesn’t figure in the ‘15’ at all with the IBF or WBA.

It has the look of a routine defence for the champ and yet maybe, just maybe, we could have some excitement early on because Gary Lockett can really whack. He’s won thirty of thirty one and even though there are no stellar names on the Welshman’s list of victims he has nonetheless wiped out a few durable types in spectacular style. Lockett can hurt Kelly Pavlik if he lands clean.

The reverse also applies, as we very well know. Kelly doesn’t do reconnaissance, does he. And he takes no prisoners. Gary will be up against heavy artillery and physical disadvantages from the start, but he’s got to brave all that and find a way in to unload his own blows because Pavlik will beat the crap out of him if he just stays on the outside waiting and hoping for openings to appear.

To get any joy at all, Lockett has to be positive. Much easier said than done, of course, but Gary is gutsy enough to give it the maximum try. He showed huge courage in his only career loss when he took a beating from Belarussian Yuri Tsarenko six years ago in a light middleweight scrap. We shouldn’t be mislead by the split decision at the end of that fight because Lockett’s face was grossly banged up, and he certainly finished a loser, but he battled through to the end of twelve rounds without any thought of quitting.

Lockett later avenged that painful setback and is now as good a fighter as he’s ever going to be. Is that good enough to beat Kelly Pavlik? No. Absolutely can’t envisage such an upset. Like I said, though, it could be interesting for a while. Kelly got dropped in the opening session by Fulgencio Zuniga, and Jermain Taylor had Pavlik disorientated and doing a spot of involuntary break dancing as well as flooring him in the second round of their first fight. Kelly can be a little vulnerable in the early going if the other guy has the will and the firepower to meet him head on.

Whatever, I hope the fight lasts long enough for the supposedly inspirational Enzo Calzaghe to show he can give Gary Lockett some sort of constructive corner advice if things are going wrong, and not just deliver his usual tirade of expletives, the likes of which could just as easily be imparted by any drunk off the streets.

Relatively harmless Frenchman Willy Blain has now crept his way to 19-0 as a pro, after his recent twelve rounds majority decision over Indonesian Daudy Bahari in defence of something called the WBO inter-continental light welterweight title. Blain has also been installed by the WBO as number one contender to Ricardo Torres which means that, having reached the top of the world as an amateur, Willy is now positioned for a mandatory shot at reaching the top of that organisation's particular world as a pro too.

The trouble with Blain’s record is that, unblemished though it is, he’s compiled it against boxers of little account. Which is how his team likes it, of course, but despite having had to face nothing too hostile thus far Willy has still suffered a scare or two along the way, brought about because he doesn’t take a punch too well. And he’s never been any sort of puncher himself.

That’s why the most surprising thing, for me, about Blain’s pro stats is that three of those nineteen victims of his actually failed to last the full distance. We’re talking rock bottom durability there.

Not able to really hurt people, then, Willy’s method is to frustrate the other guy with slippery southpaw awkwardness, survive the course, and put it all in the hands of the judges. Performing on home turf, or adopted home turf, has seen that formula work well enough to this point, including last time out. It still went to a photo finish, though.

Bahari was brought to Germany as a winning fighter in his own part of the globe who travelled with a 36-1-1 record, which made it look like Blain had a real task on. And maybe Bahari isn’t too bad at that. I haven’t seen his fight with Willy, nor seen him in action at all, and Chris John has proved that Indonesian boxers can be top quality even if the guys they’ve been beating are not known to us in the west.

That said, Daudy Bahari is clearly no Chris John. Bahari’s sole defeat shows as much, coming a couple of years ago when he could only win one round on all cards against the average Motoki Sasaki in Japan. And apart from his bare numbers looking pretty on paper, Bahari’s stoppage ratio tells us he doesn’t have the power to damage opponents.

I think we can be satisfied that that particular shortcoming is what got him the job against Blain.

Ricardo Torres has a rematch with Kendall Holt in July. The winner of that may or may not be allowed a voluntary before having to accommodate Willy Blain but it probably won’t make any difference because, given the voluntary option, both those guys would surely consider Blain the perfect choice opponent anyway.

Willy’s nickname, ‘Small Leonard,’ is wishful thinking gone mad. I saw his pro debut and, as for his professional development since, it seems to me he’s hardly developed at all. What you see now is pretty much what you got from him in the amateurs. Maybe that’s unfair but I’m not about to change the opinion.

Should Willy have to go to Colombia or the United States for his challenge, I expect he’ll get vanquished comprehensively. Battered and stopped.

Things could be slightly different if German promoters believe a big enough German or French audience has allowed itself to be conned into thinking Blain’s WBO ranking is justified. They might then be prepared to risk a winning bid and buy home advantage for the Frenchman on the strength of perceived public support for the fight.

Even with his own crowd behind him, though, I still couldn’t see Willy beating Torres or Holt, so if he does get the shot on his own turf it will be time to go in with a hefty wager. Bookmakers aren’t silly, of course. They know full well that betting is a mug’s game only for their customers, not for themselves. Sometimes, though, if the conditions are right, so are the available odds. That just could be the case here.

I’d be amazed if either Torres or Holt didn’t start a strong favourite to deal with Blain but if the bout is in Europe some bookies might consider Willy’s amateur pedigree, that 19-0 pro record, his top contender status, and consequently chalk up the defending champ at a price that’s not too prohibitive for us to steam in and really fill our boots.

Fighting at home, Willy Blain would look to slip and slide and otherwise fumble and grab his way to twelve rounds survival, then, if he somehow managed that, draw a sigh of relief and pray for the officials to do him a favour with some very creative arithmetic.

Could happen. The history of boxing contains some stinking decisions, doesn’t it. But I don’t think it’s likely here because I can’t picture Blain fending off any world class box-fighter for the whole championship schedule. I just can’t see it.