By Carlos Acevedo of The Cruelest Sport.

1.

"Beneath it all, desire of oblivion runs."
Philip Larkin

2.

In the ring, Edwin Valero was riveting, and the strange quality that defined his style–an uncommon cruelty–was couched strictly in boxing terms throughout his career. Now we can say it, though we may not want to believe it: Yes, his bloodlust appeared to be a natural extension of his fractured psyche. Over the years, several fighters with similarly destructive styles–among them Mike Tyson, Frank Fletcher, Tony Ayala, and James Kirkland–have found themselves unable to curb their hostility. Read more...

by Andrew Harrison (Safe Side of the Ropes)

An imaginary stick-up took place in Quebec over the weekend after a middle aged, balaclava wearing former hoodlum reported that he’d been robbed on a business trip by a local man and his gang of accomplices. Closer inspection found that the supposed perpetrator and his crew had been victims themselves, of false accusation and possibly even calumny. Confused? You can bet plenty of others were after they found themselves bleating long and hard about how Bernard Hopkins had been the victim of a hometown heist. (read more)

By Carlos Acevedo of The Cruelest Sport.

Bernard Hopkins looked down-at-heels for three or four rounds against Jean Pascal last night in Quebec City before taking over for the last two-thirds of the fight, showing the intelligence, professionalism, and technique that his far younger opponent lacked. It was, considering how Hopkins usually performs, a pretty good scrap at the Pepsi Coliseum.

After dropping Hopkins twice in the first three rounds—once with a borderline rabbit punch—Pascal spent the rest of the night filibustering. Unable to figure out what to do with a real pro, Pascal simply did nothing, and let Hopkins, who turned professional in 1988, control the pace and work out openings at his leisure. Letting a fighter like Hopkins take his time, plan, and execute is a serious tactical error. Joe Calzaghe edged Hopkins in 2008 by throwing megatons of leather and forcing Hopkins to react instead of dictate. It certainly was odd seeing a 46 year-old boxer landing lead left hooks to the body from two or three feet away on a fighter young enough to be his son. Read more...

by Andrew Harrison (Safe Side of the Ropes)

Bernard Hopkins, as much a part of the sport’s fixtures and fittings over the past couple of decades as fussy entrance music, bogus trouser tighteners and sequinned shorts, has a chance to sear himself into the record books in Quebec on Saturday evening. Fast approaching 46, the Philadelphian renard has the opportunity to become the oldest winner of a bonafide boxing world title since folk first began punching each other in the face for money under the auspices of the Marquess of Queensberry. (read more)

by Paul Magno of The Boxing Tribune

Once upon a time, boxers fought within the framework of the sport. Even with the corrupt sanctioning bodies getting involved and mucking up the narrative, the real professionals found a way to still do things the correct way.

They fought their mandatories, took their money fights, and still had time to fight the meaningful bouts that satisfied hardcore fans. They played off against the sanctioning bodies’ contenders, often using them as the tune ups between tougher, more lucrative contests.

That era of peaceful, symbiotic co-existence between the needs of the public and the hungers of the sanctioning bodies died in July of 2005 when Jermain Taylor dethroned long-time middleweight champ, Bernard Hopkins. Read more...