Boxing Rostrum

Without wasting thoughts on fights we know won’t happen, what are the highlight pairings that have real chances of being made in 2009?

Margarito v Mosley, Darchinyan v Arce, Marquez v Diaz, and Pacquiao v Hatton are already scheduled and all four have that battle royal look, so we’re already guaranteed thrills and quality.

To complement that batch I reckon on things happening at super bantam where Celestino Caballero, Israel Vazquez, and Juan Manuel Lopez are all genuinely keen to prove themselves top dog in a hot division. Doesn’t much matter which of them get together first, does it. Any two from three would be a lip licker.

Edwin Valero and Joan Guzman against each other at lightweight would be a fizzer too, but with no title at stake seems a non starter. Either of those facing the Marquez v Diaz winner must have possibilities, though, and who could deny the fascination there, were it to happen.

At featherweight, Yuriorkis Gamboa is on a reign of terror and is sure to get a title shot in 2009. The division is not particularly strong these days, though, and Gamboa’s year won’t capture too much of my attention unless he goes in with Chris John. The Indonesian may or may not be a real star. Reports are divided as to the merits of John’s win over Juan Manuel Marquez. I haven’t seen the tape myself so can’t offer a view but there are those who say Chris genuinely outboxed the Mexican. If that’s true he must be very good indeed and, if he could be lured to the States, a championship fight with Gamboa has must see written all over it and would tell us if the Cuban exile is a great fighter or just an explosive bully.

Most eagerly anticipated match for me, though, is Kelly Pavlik against Arthur Abraham. I have respect for the technical ability of WBA champ Felix Sturm but there’s no doubt that Pavlik against Abraham would be for the middleweight championship of the world. And I think it will happen.

Before that landslide loss to Hopkins, Pavlik would have been the likely favourite but since then a lot of people are leaning towards the German Armenian.

Kelly looked strangely lethargic throughout, right from the start, against Hopkins but even allowing for that he was badly exposed, boxing wise. That failing to adapt and produce something different, plus a vulnerability against big hitters early on in fights, has Pavlik now seeming less flexible and maybe less reliable than the solid, still unbeaten Abraham.

While Kelly doesn’t look a monster any more, however, there are questions that Abraham has yet to answer. We know all about his physical strength, and we know about his durability and resilience. The way he tolerated the pain from a terribly broken jaw, yet still soldiered on to decision Edison Miranda in their first meeting, leaves no doubts on that score. And we know that Arthur carries his power right through a championship fight, because he’s produced devastating finishes in the 11th and 12th rounds of title bouts. The guy is a rock.

What’s more, Abraham is still improving. And his confidence is about as high as it can get. But, having acknowledged all that, just who has he beaten?

Prior to winning the IBF crown, Arthur’s best win came in outscoring a defiant but faded Howard Eastman. Since becoming champ by knocking out the then fairly useful Kingsley Ikeke, the names of Abraham’s victims hardly come from the middleweight division’s A-list.

Edison Miranda stands out as easily the best he’s faced in defence of his title and is, of course, the common denominator between Abraham and Pavlik. It has to be said that Arthur looked pretty awesome last June blasting Miranda out of there inside four rounds on his U.S. debut, an even more spectacular triumph than Kelly had achieved against the Colombian. But direct comparisons don’t mean a lot, do they.

On the night of the broken jaw, Abraham had his hands full all the way with Miranda, not just as a result of his injury. Even before the break it had shaped as a real contest. When Pavlik fought Miranda, though, Kelly backed up the favoured Colombian from the start and generally beat the crap out of him until Edison was helpless and rescued in the seventh. That battering could have had a permanent effect on Miranda so, as good as Abraham looked in destroying him in their rematch, it’s possible he was a tad flattered by the manner of his win. Food for thought.

What we don’t know about Abraham is how he’ll cope if having to fight at a fast pace round after round. He’s got a method of fighting that’s built on saving energy behind a high guard and coming alive only in bursts. That may not be enough against someone as busy as Kelly Pavlik. Patience might be a virtue but it can get you in a lot of trouble on the score cards if the man you’re boxing is throwing plenty of leather and you’re not.

Surprisingly, for a boxer with a tight guard who holds his gloves in front of his eyes, Arthur Abraham rarely comes through a fight without facial damage. It could well become a factor against a heavy handed guy like Pavlik, but Kelly will also be looking at that defensive shield as an invitation to target the body. And while Abraham has yet to show any signs of physical frailty, and does have that indestructible air about him, he’s never yet had to take whacks to head or ribs from a Kelly Pavlik, or anyone comparable.

Pavlik against Abraham could be a great fight. Has to be exciting. And, as I said, we’ll have ourselves a real middleweight champion. With the heavyweight division still in a mess, that's the next best thing for the sport of boxing itself.

Oscar De La Hoya looks an empty shell for eight rounds and on the strength of it Manny Pacquiao, the conquering hero, is feted and rated like he’s superman. Doesn’t make much sense to me.

That’s not to deny Pacquiao is a great fighter. Maybe he really is the current pound-for-pound best. If Manny does merit that acclaim, though, his win over the Golden Boy can hardly go down as the clincher. The Filipino idol came with a plan, executed it to perfection, and enjoyed an overwhelming victory. Full credit to his own performance, but what did he have to beat. Next to nothing.

Now we’re looking at Pacquiao v Hatton in May, and Manny has already been installed as strong favourite to win. Had this match been made in the first place, however, instead of Pacquiao v De La Hoya, would the odds layers have viewed it the same way. I doubt it. Seems the bookies too have been overly swayed by what happened at the MGM Grand.

Size difference was what made Pacquiao the outsider against Oscar. The perception was that Manny wasn’t big enough to hurt or seriously threaten De La Hoya but, having upset that particular applecart, nobody now seems to be considering size as a likely factor in the Hatton fight even though Ricky is also a naturally bigger man than Pacquiao. And Hatton, unlike De La Hoya, will be coming with a full tank.

There was a lot to like about Ricky’s dismissal of Paulie Malignaggi. Okay, Paulie isn’t as good as he says he is, and nowhere near as good as he thinks he is, and he doesn’t pack much power, but he is a decent boxer who figured to ask the Mancunian quite a few questions, and it’s a tribute to Hatton that he had the answer for everything.

Floyd Mayweather Snr prepped Ricky to outbox the boxer and, after losing round one, that’s what he did, while putting some hurt into Paulie along the way. What impressed most was how Hatton stayed focused throughout, even when his domination became total. But for the hook up with Floyd Snr, Ricky, having got Malignaggi under control, would probably have gone with a natural instinct to force things and chase the knockout, but instead he stayed smart and increased the pressure in increments. Though this wasn’t Hatton at his most exciting, he has never turned in a more mature or complete performance.

I think Ricky Hatton can beat Manny Pacquiao. And, never mind what happened with Pacman and Oscar, I think he’ll do it because he’s the bigger of two good men.

The book might tell us that Manny has just triumphed spectacularly against boxing’s biggest name in a match made at 147 pounds, whereas Ricky’s two welterweight ventures have seen him flattened by Mayweather and on the verge of collapse at the end of his razor thin win over Luis Collazo, but I don’t see any of that as having a bearing.

Ricky Hatton hasn’t excelled at welterweight, but he’s a most formidable, bull strong fighter at 140 where the action with Pacquiao will be taking place. Manny has won at 147 – in weird circumstances given Oscar’s part in the proceedings – but clearly isn’t a welterweight and, fact is, has yet to even prove himself at light welter.

Manny’s win over David Diaz was terrific. He showed he could move up from super feather and outbox then outfight a good lightweight yardstick, and the end was crushing, but can he produce that kind of effectiveness another five pounds higher against someone of Ricky Hatton’s calibre who will be boxing in his home division.

Hatton is bigger and stronger than David Diaz, a harder puncher, a better boxer. Altogether superior. And Ricky isn’t slow. He surprises people with his quickness and has a stiff jab when he’s minded to use it, as he did, or as Floyd Snr had him do, against Malignaggi.

If Pacquiao wants to meet Hatton head on, I reckon Ricky would go with that willingly. If Manny opts for speed, zig and zag and in and out the way he laid it on De La Hoya, I fancy Hatton can cope quite well with that too. Pacquiao moved around Oscar with ease, making him look like a statue at times, but I can’t believe he’ll prove as elusive faced by Hatton’s pressure because Manny doesn’t have the defensive genius of Floyd Mayweather and clever footwork alone may not keep him out of harm’s way when Ricky’s on the premises.

One huge danger to Hatton is his own between-fights lifestyle. Floyd Snr has told him the perils of not staying in shape but pigging out, loading his gut with beer and junk burgers, and piling on the chins. I suspect, though, that the words of wisdom have fallen on barren ground. Very hard to change the habits of a lifetime.

Ricky probably figures there’s no harm done, that the physical condition he brings to the ring couldn’t be improved on no matter how he indulges himself while not in training, but Mr Mayweather knows what he’s talking about. In an arduous, draining fight the abusing effect of all that munching and quaffing must do away with maybe 5% of Hatton’s dig deep capacity. We’re not talking about courage here. Ricky will never come up short in the grit department. But what good is spirit if the flesh can’t respond. And even if he’s only betraying himself by 1% through his recreational activities, it’s still 1% too much. It took a lot less than 1% to break the camel’s back.

Just one of those things, but Shane Mosley is about to find himself as the connecting rod between two men who could, probably should, and almost certainly would have fought each other five years ago had promotional considerations allowed it.

Mosley, who in my view should be banned from boxing over admitted drug abuse ( and I say that despite being a huge admirer of his ring skills ) is slated to meet Antonio Margarito in his next fight on Jan 24th at the Staples Center. Last time out, Shane flattened Ricardo Mayorga right at the death to win a fight which, bizarrely, he was about to win on points anyway even though I can’t see how anyone watching with an open mind, and through open eyes, could have failed to have the Nicaraguan wild man in a handy lead with one round left. But that’s another story.

On 25th Jan, 2003, Ricardo Mayorga scored a big upset in battering WBC welterweight champ Vernon Forrest to defeat inside three whirlwind rounds. It was a unification bout, Mayorga risking his WBA belt in the process, but few had seriously believed the then unbeaten and silky skilled Forrest would have much bother with the rival claimant. Wrong. Ricardo stormed forward like a drunk ploughing his way through a refreshment tent and proved too much of a beast for Forrest who just couldn’t fend him off.

Two weeks after that shock, in a lower key title match, Antonio Margarito took less than two rounds to annihilate Andrew “Six Heads” Lewis in defence of his WBO version of the welterweight crown. It was the same Lewis who Mayorga had stopped to capture the WBA bauble a year earlier.

Margarito, eyeing the possibility of a big purse, made noises about wanting to fight the Nicaraguan but it seems the WBO crown wasn’t deemed a strong enough bargaining tool, and Antonio wasn’t yet a big enough presence in the game, so the fight never really looked like being made. Too bad, I say. From a viewing point of view, and from the betting angle too.

If Margarito and Mayorga were to box today, at welterweight, the Mexican would be a heavy favourite, and rightly so, but the price would likely be too skinny to make a bet worthwhile. Had they met back in 2003, though, Ricardo Mayorga would certainly have worn the favourite tag which would have opened a juicy wagering opportunity because even back then I had full confidence that Margarito was the superior man. An all out war for sure, but I’d have backed that opinion by lumping on large at outsider odds. Then as now, Tony was the better fighter. More composure, better engine, greater resolve.

That doesn’t mean I have no respect for Mayorga. He’s a good strong warrior who’s up for a battle against anybody, and I must admit to surprise at how well he performed in the Mosley fight up until the last moments. And I’ll be very interested to see how he shapes against undefeated slugger Alfredo Angulo in February, or, rather, how Angulo shapes against him.

Mayorga’s pre-fight rants and baiting of opponents are legendary but now it’s turned full circle with Angulo already sounding off about what he’s going to do to Ricardo. And he's been a bit explicit with it. So things could get real noisy by weigh in time once Mayorga gets his own mouth into gear too. The fight itself, for sure, will be played out in bedlam.

Angulo is fresh, throws a lot of punches, and hits hard. But this time he’s going to get hit back, and by somebody who’s a good deal better than anyone he’s yet faced. I love this kind of action, don’t you. The rising prospect and the old hand. Angulo’s camp obviously feel the timing’s right in taking this fight now but Ricardo Mayorga still has some of the old fire left, judged by his efforts against Shane, and could be a bit too savvy for Alfredo. We shall see. Either way it figures to be violent.

The one thing worse for boxing than to have Nikolay Valuev against Evander Holyfield for the heavyweight championship of the world would be for the two of them to box a rematch for that supposed title.

Which is not to slight Evander Holyfield. At his best, Atlanta’s pride and joy was one of the greatest fighters we’ve ever seen, but the was in that label carries heavy emphasis. The Holyfield we see now is a decade beyond the stage where he was already five years past his best.

For Valuev to have struggled so badly against the venerable one devalues the title connotation altogether. And that’s not a personal slight on the Russian giant either. He’s spent years of dedicated toil getting to be as proficient a fighter as his ability would allow, and all credit to him for that, but Nikolay is just not very good, is he.

Valuev is a huge man, which translates as a huge target, and that, together with his slowness, might make him a sitting duck for either of the Klitschkos. That’s my view, and possibly yours too. Such a match does not seem to be anywhere near, however, which may be a pity for the sport itself because Valuev would cause quite a stir if he caught a knockout punch and went down hard. That kind of spectacular, titanic image could even put the heavyweight championship back on the front pages and give boxing its biggest lift in years.

Even that would be just a temporary respite, though. The biggest problem right now is having two Klitschkos on the scene. They say they’re proud to be the first brothers in boxing history to hold world heavyweight crowns at the same time, and you’d have to agree that their ring accomplishments have been commendable, but they should have restricted their claim to recent boxing history.

In yesteryear you had your heavyweight contenders and, above them, you had the heavyweight champion. Champion, not champions. There was no such thing as multiples thereof.

In reality, though, notwithstanding the present multi-belt nonsense, nothing has changed. If either of the Klitschkos is the heavyweight champion of the world, the other one isn’t. That simple. But we’re not going to find out which is the proper champ because they’re not prepared to decide it in the ring.

So boxing has to suffer as a consequence. What’s desperately needed is for one of them to get beaten or one of them to hang ‘em up and leave it to his brother. This is not an anti-Klitschko rant, just a pro-boxing stance.

What do we want? A true heavyweight king. When do we want it? Any time soon would be nice. Sooner still would be perfect. Chances of it happening? Well, nothing is impossible. Or is it.

Fifty years ago Archibald Lee Wright, alias Archie Moore – the Old Mongoose himself – did something truly amazing.

On 10th December 1958 Moore defended his world light heavyweight title in Montreal against 29 year old Canadian, Yvon Durelle, and the home crowd had come expecting to see a pretty good fight, but what they actually got to witness far exceeded that.

Rugged Durelle wasn’t one for reconnaissance. No taking a look to see what the other guy had to offer before committing fully to the battle. Full steam ahead was his motto, and never was it more in evidence than on that night.

Some records list Moore as being born on 13th December 1916, which would put him just three days shy of his 42nd birthday going into the fight. His mother, however, said otherwise, agreeing 13th December was correct but insisting little Archibald had in fact first seen the light of day three years earlier in 1913. On account of she’d been present at the birth I’d be inclined to go along with momma on that one but, either way, rising 42 or 45, Moore was a marvel to be still boxing at the top level as a reigning world champion, at such an advanced age, having begun his pro boxing career way back in 1935. When he entered the ring, Archie Moore was about to take part in his 205th professional fight

Those bare facts suggested the less skilled, but powerful and much younger challenger might have chances but nobody could have anticipated what happened at the start.

Archie, master of the cross armed defence amongst other skills, was hard to prise open and land on cleanly, but that meant nothing to Durelle who just came out and did his thing, breaking through straight away. Once Archie was in trouble Yvon kept the pressure full on, dishing out such a battering in that first round that Moore hit the deck three times. And one of the knockdowns saw Archie flat on his back.

How many could survive that kind of beating, yet find the spirit and the strength to keep going. Very few. Even fewer could come through a round like that and then somehow go on to make a reasonable fight of it. Any such man, you’d think, would have to be a young prime-of-life fighter.

The 1958 version of Archie Moore didn’t fit that profile at all yet he did survive Durelle’s opening three minute onslaught and make it back to his corner. He also survived what came his way from a rampant Durelle through the next three rounds and, when dropped again in round five, he dragged himself back up and survived that too.

After fifteen minutes of fighting, Yvon Durelle had had Moore lying at his feet four times and must have figured it couldn’t last much longer, that ref Jack Sharkey or Archie’s own corner crew would do the compassionate thing and stop it, or that he’d finally knock out the veteran, or that Moore would simply collapse from a combination of old age and the accumulative effect of all the punches he’d caught on the night.

By that stage what Moore had endured was already extraordinary but, far from being satisfied with such an incredible show of defiance, Archie then went into miracle mode.

Even at his lowest point, when everybody present had surely written him off, Archie still had it in mind he was there to win the fight; there to retain his title. Moore wasn’t the flashy type but he was a craftsman in the ring, composed and precise, and as the pace dropped a little – which it had to do – he began to find Yvon with solid shots, draining Durelle’s strength and confidence before eventually breaking that hard man’s spirit.

A crowd which had been excitedly celebrating could only look on astonished as Archie Moore turned the whole thing on its head. Over the next few rounds Moore equalised the knockdown score, and it was Durelle’s own fourth trip to the canvas that saw him counted out in round eleven, leaving Archie the stunning victor and still champion of the world.

That wasn’t the only time Moore came from behind to score a knockout victory with his crown at stake. He and Harold Johnson had five meetings in all, but just the one title match. That was in 1954 at the Garden. Archie went down in the tenth and was trailing on points but upped the intensity and managed to keep his crown by forcing a stoppage in round fourteent. Spectacular stuff. Then, in 1956, Archie was in London to defend against Trinidad’s Yolande Pompey and found a lot of problems in the early stages. Pompey started well, got into a rhythm, and after eight rounds had gone by held a good lead and seemed to have the champ’s measure. False security. The Mongoose nailed Yolande in the ninth and ripped open a gash over his left eye and a tenth round blitz finished the job.

Commendable as they were, though, neither of those triumphs compared to Archie’s Canadian caper. And while he’s in the record books for having the most knockout wins by any boxer ever – a record that should stand for all time because nobody these days has anywhere near enough career fights to even have a chance of beating Archie’s mark – what really enshrines him in the history of boxing is what he did on that stupendous evening at Montreal in December ’58.

Archie Moore. Great fighter. Great champion. Fascinating and unforgettable man.

People deal with trauma in different ways, don’t they. Amir Khan showed his personal mettle by coming back from the Breidis Prescott disaster in thumping style, and Enzo Maccarinelli kept pace on the same bill, duplicating Amir’s deed in scoring three knockdowns on the way to a second round stoppage of Matthew Ellis which will help erase the pain of Enzo’s unification loss to David Haye.

But Audley Harrison, who found himself out-gritted by Belfast cabbie Martin Rogan in the other high profile bout at the ExCel last Saturday, obviously doesn’t share the Khan/Maccarinelli desire for doing positive things in the wake of adversity. Worse than that, Audley has always been a timid practitioner, on the rebound from adversity or not. Even before getting flattened by Michael Sprott almost two years ago the big southpaw took ring caution to excess, and in the one emphatic triumph of his career, the three round win over Danny Williams in their rematch, he still managed to border on panic when Dan tried to bull him into the ropes. Harrison has size and boxing skills and decent power but plain refuses to use those talents to the full, or anywhere close. And he ain’t going to change now, is he.

What a contrast with Maccarinelli. Despite the memory of being extinguished in two rounds by Haye last time out, at the O2 Arena in March, there wasn’t a gun shy bone in Enzo’s fists as he hounded Ellis and blasted him out with body shots. Blackpool’s Ellis, a one time hot prospect himself, may have been a late replacement for Jonathon Banks who had been due to contest the vacant WBO cruiserweight title with Maccarinelli, but he’d been slated to box on the card anyway, was fit and ready, and was heavier than the Welshman. Didn’t help him, though. Enzo went straight for his man as usual but, like Khan, had his hands in position to block any reply. Good stuff.

Too many modern boxers hunt the head exclusively. It looks flashier keeping the attacks up top, and maybe that’s the way to go with the judges these days, but a mixed offensive output has to be more effective and more difficult to guard against. If a guy firing rib benders locates the liver, he’s in business. And even if he doesn’t find the finisher, a body assault will generally serve to bring down the other man's hands and get better access to his chin.

Enzo Maccarinelli sprays shots up and down the target, and his punches are naturally vicious. He’s a good fighter, good to watch, and the air of vulnerability about him only adds to the attraction. Enzo will get the chance to win back his old WBO crown once Banks is fit to face him, and victory in that delayed clash would have him again looking to acquire the other belts too. He wants to take on the best out there, and prove himself better, and with David Haye out of the picture you’d have to give him some sort of chance of doing it.

I’ve had a couple of days to think about it and give it a bit of perspective, and try to find something to fault, but I still have to admire the way Amir Khan went about his rehab assignment in London last Saturday.

Okay, the guy he was fighting, Oisin Fagan, isn’t the best, or anywhere near. If Amir wanted to retain his lofty ambitions in the game he had to deal with that calibre of opponent, and do it with some authority. It wasn’t as easy as that in prospect, though, because the pressure on Khan was immense.

A lot of people were gloating over what happened with Prescott. Plenty would have been pleased to see Amir fall again. That’s just the way it is with some. And Fagan, a gutsy sort, made it plain he’d come out looking for Khan’s chin right from the off.

It would have been understandable had Amir shown apprehension in the early going, but he put his boxing to work straight away and kept it together beautifully through the four minutes and a bit the fight lasted. He has breathtaking ability. But, then, we knew that already. There have never been doubts on that score, not in the attack department anyway, but what was different here was the way he stayed mindful of defensive duties.

What we need to be mindful of is that Khan wasn’t in with a world class foe, and it didn’t last long enough to make solid judgement, so maybe he could revert to type and get sloppy in the heat of battle against championship level fighters. That’s always a possibility, but I tend to think it unlikely. That annihilation by Prescott had to be one hell of a shock to his system and I can’t believe he’d invite something similar in future by not paying proper attention.

There are those who say Khan’s chin will always let him down against the division’s top men, irrespective of defensive adjustments. Could be right. After all, everybody gets hit sometime, no matter how capable they are defensively. For now, though, Amir is back on track and at least heading in the right direction. The strength of his chin might be in question but not the strength of his character.

Carl Froch is now WBC super middleweight champ, rightly so after taking a just and unanimous decision over Jean Pascal, but didn’t he have to earn it the hard way!

Boxing’s not a contact sport. It’s a collision sport. Or it is when it’s done the way fight fans like to see it done, and that’s what we got in Nottingham on Saturday night. Both guys came out with equal credit for me because even though there can be only one winner it takes two to make a great fight. And this was a great fight. An attritional classic.

All praise to Pascal. Unlike others who shall remain nameless – except, of course, for Jermain Taylor and Denis Inkin – the Canadian, who was undefeated like Froch himself, had the guts and self confidence to confront Carl on the Nottingham Cobra's own turf, and gave everything in that ring. Okay, he came out a loser, but he’ll never have to look back and fault himself for lack of effort. And, aside from the endeavour and the courage, Jean showed plenty of quality too. He can keep company with anybody in this division. I look forward to seeing him again.

Carl had his man in trouble several times but couldn’t bring him down and, ultimately, it was the Froch jab that made the difference once both guys entered the fatigue zone.

With only one fight in the past year, and just two in twenty one months prior to this, inactivity hasn’t done Froch any favours. He could have performed even better, and been that much sharper, had there not been such big gaps between recent outings, and he was carrying a couple of physical niggles too, but Carl shrugged all that off to show what he’s about anyway. He can box or he can have a fight, is a genuine banger with a rock solid chin when it’s his turn to take a shot, and boasts that essential winning attribute – mental strength.

I’ve already said I fancy Joe Calzaghe to end up boxing Froch in Cardiff next summer, and the hunch is still intact. But Carl would have to cement his new status first.

Calzaghe is a world figure. Carl Froch isn’t. The terrific tear up against Jean Pascal may have alerted a British audience to Froch’s excitement credentials, given the fight was on free TV, as long as enough casual viewers were still on parade for the eleven o’clock start time, and hopefully the action also reached America too, but even wide exposure in this fight, notwithstanding capture of that WBC belt, doesn’t make Carl a viable opponent for Joe at this stage. Froch would need a significant, and impressive, first defence triumph to put himself in the frame for a crack at the Welsh hero.

Jermain Taylor is supposed to be the first-up opponent. Beating Jeff Lacy in what was called an eliminator gives Jermain number one position, but Taylor had already elbowed a straight title fight with Carl – hence Pascal stepping in – to take the “eliminator” with Lacy instead. I don’t know about you but my reading of that suggests the former middleweight champ is not particularly keen on duking it out with Mr Froch. And even though I think Jermain Taylor is a class fighter, I suspect he'll dodge Carl again and look elsewhere.

Whatever, Carl Froch needs a big name victim, to convince the Stateside market, before he can really muscle into the Calzaghe picture. He’s smart enough to know that. And hungry enough to want it. It’s just a matter of whether the money men will put him in that kind of fight.