Sunday, September 19, 2004

 

The Hopkins-De La Hoya Fight

Man, that was a waste of money, huh?

Why do pay-per-view fights always end up being overhyped and underwhelming (kind of like Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow-- my review will be up later)?

All during the undercard, HBO boxing reporters Jim Lampley and Larry "I Love The Smell Of Oiled Biceps" Merchant kept yappin' about comparisons between this fight and the infamous Sugar Ray Leonard-Marvin Hagler bout in 1987, the one that Leonard eventually won by decision but could have gone either way.

Everybody kept talking Saturday night's fight up, talking about its potential for entering the pantheon of "legendary nights." And all this time, I'm thinking:

Dudes, we already paid for the fight. You can stop kissing each other's groins right now, we're not going anywhere. Not while we still have chips.

The bigger problem here was how bad both undercards were. I arrived a few minutes late to my friend's house to watch the fight, and so I missed the 33-second knockout in the first fight. So, it was time to cue the HBO file footage and canned interviews with members of the Nevada Boxing Commission. Seriously, at this point, Boohbah is more interesting, and a whole lot cheaper.

Scanning the audience, who's famous:
-- Mike Tyson. Good to see the sedation is working. Still love the face-tat, baby.
-- John McCain. Is it all that smart to have the MGM Grand's fireworks go off near this man? I'm just asking.

Speaking of which, did we learn nothing from the Great White fiery-death experience? No fireworks inside the house, people: it's an easy rule to follow.
-- Nicole Kidman. WTF? Your agent is really stretching, dear.
-- Scottie Pippen.

Scottie Pippen.

Why the hell are you smiling Pippen? What the hell do you have to smile about? You sat on the effing bench against the Knicks, letting *TONI KUKOC* take the game winning shot. Kukoc is working checkout at a Cub Foods in Schaumburg while you sit there watching a championship bout. You should be ashamed for yourself, not smiling with your friends, you worthless sack of lazy filth.

So what if all that happened in 1994? I still hurt.

Moving on, the best celebrity appearance of the night occurred while De La Hoya received his pre-match instructions from the ref, who not only looked but sounded like Dave Chapelle. Who was that standing with De La Hoya's posse?

New Mexico Governor and former Secretary of Energy Bill Richardson.

WTF, again?


Hey Bill! Wen Ho Lee sends his mad love.

The second bout of the night was between Sulking Hispanic Guy Number #1 and Sulking Hispanic Guy Number #2. At least, I think that was the case, as by this time I started to fall asleep. Mind you, I was sitting with friends, so I felt compelled to ask for their permission.

"I'm tired. I've had a long day. I'm going to sleep now, wake me up when the fight starts."
"Sure, okay."

Thirty seconds later, I open my eyes to see my buddy Mike holding a pen near my face.

Friends, gotta love 'em.

Anyways, what I saw of that second match was boring, and eventually it ended, with Sulking Hispanic Guy victorious.

ANOTHER twenty minutes until the title fight. Good lord, I could rebuild an engine in less time.

A bit of pre-bout controversy (with a De La Hoya fight? Get the eff outta here!). Seems that Golden Boy took a "banned substance" before the fight. I was hoping for something really stupid-yet-disqualifying like Benadryl, or Flinstones vitamins, but it turned out De La Hoya had received an injection of lidocaine into his hand.

Hey, if it helps Oscar hit like a man, I'm all for injecting *concrete* into his hand.

It just so happened that during practice that week, while Oscar's trainer removed the tape from his hands with scissors, the trainer cut the webbing between two of Oscar's fingers, requiring eleven stitches.

First off: EWWWWWWWW!

Second off: really, how hard is it to cut off tape without injuring the WEAPONS OF YOUR MULTI-MILLIONAIRE PRIZE FIGHTER? Seems to me that calling for a little focus from your trainer at that particular moment ain't exactly asking for the world.

When questioned for his thoughts of Pretty Boy's predicament, eight-time felon and undisputed middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins said something I didn't really understand. I'm sure it was really important, however-- like the formula for cold fusion, or something.

Everybody in the room made predictions. I go for Hopkins by decision. De La Hoya is in his best shape in years, he's got something to prove by moving up a weight class, and while Hopkins is the much better fighter, De La Hoya can stick with him.

Of course, once the fight began, I realized that my prediction failed to take into account a crucial factor acting against Oscar De La Hoya: he's a pussy.


Pussy.

Oscar put up a good fight, had even won a few early rounds. He closed with Hopkins often, but a lot of his swings were wild, and the ones he did connect on didn't seem all that impressive. By late in the bout, it was clear Hopkins was breaking away on points.

As De La Hoya's trainers spread Vagisil all over his pretty face, Hopkins just seemed eager to get the thing over with. Going into the 9th, I would have thought "Hey, this will go to a decision, Hopkins will win, and I will look smart tonight. Life is good."

No sooner had this thought entered my mind when eight-time felon Hopkins landed a crushing blow smack in the middle of De La Hoya's gaping pussy.

Okay, maybe it was in the middle of Oscar's liver. And maybe it wasn't a "crushing blow"-- Hopkins didn't even land with the square of his glove, it was just a glancing blow underneath the ribs. Didn't matter, the punch was still enough to send Oscar to the mat to the tears of teenage Mexican girls everywhere.

When asked after the bout what happened, De La Hoya said Hopkins "just hit me in the button."

Damn, you mean Oscar De La Hoya has a button you can push where he goes from tough scrappy fighter to whiny bitch in ten seconds flat? How come we didn't know this before last night? I bet Shane Mosely would have paid good money to know where that button was-- it would've saved him all the trouble of winning by decision.

To conclude, Hagler-Leonard can rest easy, it wasn't a legendary night. Larry Merchant didn't make nearly enough homoerotic references. Scottie Pippen never had any hustle. Bernard Hopkins is an eight-time felon. And this morning, Oscar De La Hoya has a really sore pussy, uh, liver.

That's about it.

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