Barclay Center, New York, 889/2014– Give me a second to clean up this garbage that Showtime dumped into my living room yesterday. I’m a die hard, but SERIOUSLY, this was the Theater of the Absurd. The so-called ‘main event was really the pain event.
Danny (Swift) Garcia (28-0-16k) v. Lightning Rod Salka (19-3-3k)
Al Haymond, my good man, I appreciate you getting the most $ for your guys for the least amount of risk, but look, I’ll be 72 on the 26th of October and I guarantee you, I can do better than Salka. He calls himself ‘lightening Rod’, well it looked like he was struck by lightning when he pounded his chest and Garcia damn near broke his fkn’ neck with that look- away left hook. I get DG wanting to see what was up with himself after Herrera kicked his ass in his native country, but c’mon, man. Sometimes, even in a mismatch, we speak of a guy having a ‘puncher’s chance’ but the only chance Rod had was of getting killed last night. He was as nervous as a ho’ in church in the first rd. resembling a man heading for the gallows. The fact he made it through the round was quite an accomplishment, really. In the fatal second, Garcia punched the clock, as well as Salka. Garcia clocked Rod with a big overhand right and how he stood up was a shock. He was soon on the deck from a follow-up flurry. Looking toward his corner like he was in quicksand with steel boots on. A few moments later, another flurry put Rod down again. Acting like he had a set, he was up, pounding his chest like a well-trained fool. Danny threw a straight right to the body and followed with that dangerous look-away left hook that he loves to throw, damn near decapitating Salka who went down as if he was struck from above. Gladly, he didn’t die, though he needs to kill his peeps for getting him involved in this shit. C’mon Danny, let’s see you with Herrera, Thurman, Peterson, Broner, and Molina…..
Lamont Peterson (32-1-1-16k) v. Edgar Santana (29-4-20k)
WBA 140lb champ Peterson took on a dangerous all the time puncher in Santana. I like these types of fights, where a guy has one punch power and can change shit in a second. Peterson is a smooth, slick boxer with decent power, especially downstairs and he was touching Santana’s rib cage all night. It’s quite amazing how some guys can soak up that much continuous punishment without going down or even changing their expressions. Santana was dogged in his pursuit, willing to accept five to maybe land one, but he was getting his ass beat all night long. They should’ve been playin’ Lionel Ritchie. On occasion, he’d land a thumping left hook, but LP has learned, you don’t have to always fight fire with fire. He tried that shit with Lucas Matthesyee (?) and paid dearly. This time he boxed smartly, stayed off the ropes and kept the action near ring center. He bounced shot after shot off of Santana’s sturdy jaw bone, but I knew there was a cumulative affect taking place. This guy should’ve had RINGSIDE tatted on his torso, the way LP was digging in, was there some gold there? Peterson, with a well reported hard upbringing, what’s next? People really wanna’ see him and Garcia and both guys are asking for it. No doubt LP would do more than the dreaded Lighting Rod.
Daniel (Miracle Man) Jacobs (27-1-24k) v. Jarrod Fletcher (18-1-10k)
This hookup was for the vacant WBA Middleweight title (I think that’s my belt). Fletcher was billed as some sorta’ threat to Jacobs, yeah, right. This thing didn’t look like it was gonna’ last three minutes, the way Danny Boy got with his ass. A short sizzling left hook had the “threat” on the mat and in trouble. He somehow survived and I was anxious to see if DJ was gonna’ go for the early clean up. Nope, he didn’t. For some reason he took his foot completely off the gas and started switching back and forth gliding around the ring as if he was in the gym. In fact, in spots, it got really boring. He would flash on Fletcher for a moment, then it was back to the basics, giving Fletcher some false hope. Afterwards, DJ explained, “I didn’t wanna punch myself out and get tired”. Damn man, your mind should’ve been on punching Fletcher out, not yourself. You’re a well-trained world-class fighter and you’re worried about gassing out after two damn rounds? Hell you won’t be champ for long with that attitude. At least, he admitted he’s not ready for GGG that would be wrong, just wrong. Jacobs launched an assault on Fletcher early in the fourth and that lasted for a few moments, when Fletcher remained upright, then it was, ‘back to boxing’. Finally, Jacobs rocked his do-nothing opponent in the fifth, driving him to the ropes dropping him with a salvo causing the ref to call it off.
Sadam Ali (19-0-12k) v. Jeremy Bryan (17-3-7k)
Now, this was supposed to be a showcase fight for the rising Ali, the undefeated New Yorker, being primed for big things. Here was Bryan, a guy who all three losses had been by ko and he was from South Carolina, though he was born in Newark. This actually turned into one of the better fights. Bryant, was awkward, but seemed to have a little sting on his shots. He stung the favorite with a good right hand early in round to, getting much respect from Ali. Ali was not his normally aggressive self but was boxing and thinking a lot more. This showed maturity, a lotta’ youngsters try to please the home folk by always being on the hunt. In the third, Bryant blasted Ali with a big left hook, nearly dropping him. Ali was holding on while clearing his head, another sign of maturity. His corner was getting in his ass for being so passive (easy for them to say, corner men are brave as hell). Sadam woke up in the fourth launching his own left hook bomb on Bryant’s whiskers, shaking him up, big-time. Bryant tackled Sadam to the mat, buying precious seconds, which he badly needed. From that point on, Ali was able to avoid Bryant’s sneaky shots, and started to wear him out with body shots. In the ninth, a right hand deposited a fading Bryant and he barely beat the count. This was a decisive round as Ali went on to gain a close split decision win and a much-needed step up in competition.
Zachary Ochoa (7-0-4K) v. Luis Cervantes (7-7-3-2 nd-2k)
Another unbeaten New York hotshot found out what bull spit, the comment ‘numbers don’t lie mean’. I’m sure his peeps figured with his 500 record, Luis Cervantes was probably just excited being in the Big Apple. Hey Zac, guess again. This was one of our Cali guys, with the still-fit veteran trainer Steve Quinones in his corner. With a smirk on his face, and a bit of drool on his lips, Ochoa found himself in hot water as soon as the bell sounded. The ShowTime talking heads were still talking about how much time Luis had spent away from the gym, but he was already in Zac’s ass, with no interest in that ‘feelin’ out business’. He was firing hard shots at the youngster, making it a brawl right away. It was obvious his body attack was gonna’ pay off as time went on. Ochoa’s arsenal seems very limited. He constantly throws a jab and overhand right. He probably threw a dozen, if that many left hooks over the entire six rounds. This was an action-packed battle with both guys giving and getting. In the fifth, a low blow by Cervantes nearly caused Ochoa to fall out the ring and he requested some time to walk it off. After signaling to the ref, he was ready, Cervantes, playing gentleman, reached to touch gloves and promptly ate a hard straight right hand, for being Mr. Good bar. I thought he was already pissed from the first round, but now he was really after homeboy, forcing him to the ropes and landing at will. Zach was outtalked’ gas and getting thumped at the bell and do I really have to tell you what happened next? That’s right, folks, and our home cooking call of the night. The announcers (surprise) even commented on the call. They better be glad my boy Teddy Atlas wasn’t there, somebody ‘would’ve had hell to tell the captain’. Zac, your attack is wack; you need to learn how to throw a left hook, for starters. I have a suggestion, Zac, come to Cali for the rematch.
Anthony Peterson (33-1-17K) v. Edgar Santana (37-18-2-26K)
In the opener, the ‘other Peterson”, Lamont, returned from one of his many sabbaticals to face a guy that lost 37lbs in three weeks and hadn’t eaten in three days (so the announcers said). Well, he ate something in this fight and I hope he liked the taste of leather because that’s exactly what he got. Funny, it seemed Lamont was the hungry one, as he just ran up one side and down the other of Mr. Hungry. A hard left hook put Edgar down and out at 2:41 of the first round and I’m sure he headed straight to the nearest restaurant, even a Big Apple would’ve tasted good.
All in all, tonight was a mixed (fixed?) bag and I’m glad they were rather brief outings.