Lennox Lewis, I’m coming for you man. My style is impetuous. My defense is impregnable, and I’m just ferocious. I want your heart. I want to eat his children. Praise be to Allah! Just wondering, has anyone seen Lennox Lewis’ children lately? Maybe Iron Mike followed through on his promise. Sure looks like it. Hey hey hey!
Josh Q. Public:Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees, and people say we #### around. But we’re too busy singing, to put anybody down. -Monkees
Lancelot Links:
1. Will it ever end? More steroid madness from the guys who brought you Game of Shadows.
2. Nebraska fans are not happy. Can you blame them?
3. Now that he’s won again, who will the Pride of Wales fight next. Accoriding to Bad Left Hook, there’s no shortage of potential opponents for Joe Calzaghe.
4. New head coach of the Boston Celtics. Kevin Garnett. Thanks Boston SportZ:
5. Kosuke Fukudome can throw a Major League tantrum. Don’t believe me? Just ask the guys over at Home Run Derby.
Josh Q. Public:Blinding me with science. Science! Science! I can hear machinery. Blinding me with science. Science! Science! -Thomas Dolby
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Ahhhh. The sweet science. JoeCalzaghe. The sweetest scientist of them all. Dropping the science like a physicist. Dropping it like the bestest pugilist. Dropping it with his big left fist. Better than the Bald Bull. Better than Mr. Sandman. Better than Piston Hurricane. Better than Kid Quick. Body blow! Body blow! Knock him out! Joe Calzaghe maybe the best boxer in the world right now. You got Pretty Boy. You got Pac Man. You got Winky. You got the Executioner. All great fighters. All the brightest of the brighters. But none of them shine as bright as the Pride of Wales. The Italion Dragon. Joe Calzaghe. Undefeated Joe Calzaghe. 43-0 and Joe Calzaghe. Thirty-two knockouts Joe Calzaghe. Damage. Unh! Damage. Unh! Damage. Unh! Damage, destruction, terror and mayhem. Pass him a sissy and suckas he’ll slay him. I’m gonna knock you out. Mama said knock you out. He’s knocking folks out at a staggering pace. Knocking out mugs all over the place. Hail Mary, full of Grace. Just knocked out Contender alumnus and the Pride of Providence, Peter Manfredo. Knocked him out in the third. You heard? Word! Manfredo had no answer for Calzaghe’s trademark super-fast punches. Punches in bunches. Punches that put you out to lunches. The Pride of Wales came out at a frenetic pace in the third. The Pride of Wales threw ninety-two punches over the one minute-and-a-half the third lasted. Blasted. Outclasseded. Flurries. Furious flurries. Fast and Furious flurries. If you have what it takes, you can have it all. Dominic Toretto style. Manfredo did his best to bob and weave. He rope a doped the evil with righteous bobbin’ and weavin’. Tried to let the good get even. To no avail. C’mon down. Welcome to the Terrordome. Referee, Terry O’Connor was forced to halt the bout. Winner and still champeen, Joe Calzaghe. That was the Dragon’s twentieth successful title defense. His twentieth successful defense since he won the title from Chris Eubank in 1997. Goodness! That equals Bernard the Executioner Hopkins’ and Larry the Easton Assaisin Holmes’ marks. It also moves Joe within five of the Brown Bomber, Joe Louis’ record. Gracious. With a win over Denamrk’s Mikkel the Hitman Kessler, hopefully in July, The Welsh Warrior will take his rightful place atop boxing’s elite. C’mon down. Welcome to the Terrordome.
This post brought to you by: Thomas Dolby, Nintendo, LL Cool J, Universal Pictures and Public Enemy.
Josh Q. Public:Now you find the younger guys are putting up resistance and you’re almost beaten to the punch. You better get out now because you’ll never go the distance and you’re almost beaten to the punch. -Elvis Costello
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go. Whatever happened to the great American heavyweight? The Heavyweight Champeen of the World. It used mean to something. It used to mean a lot. A whole lot. It used to stir my pot. It used to float my yacht. But it seems so long ago, I almost forgot. But I didn’t. I remember. Remember the good old days. Boy, the way Glenn Miller played. Songs that made the Hit Parade. Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days. Like my main man Jake LaMotta always says: “I remember those cheers. They still ring in my ears. After years, they remain in my thoughts.” Yes they do Jake, yes they do. At present, three of the four heavyweight championship belts are in the possession of boxers from former Soviet republics. Well the Ukraine girls may really knock me out. They may leave the west behind. And Moscow girls may make me sing and shout, but those great American heavyweight are always on my my my my my my my my my mind. The Russians have far too many constanants for my tastes. Wladimir Klitschko. Nicolay Valuev. Sergei Liakhovich. Oleg Maskaev. What a disgrace. I consider it a challenge before the whole human race. And I ain’t gonna lose. We are the champions my friends! Ah, the champions. I wonder, yes I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder, where have all the great heavyweight fighters of my lifetime gone? Whatever happened to the guys who ate lightning? Whatever happened to the guys who crapped thunder? So here it is. Here is my small tribute to the greatest heavyweight fighter and the greatest heavyweight fight I ever saw:
Muhammad Ali: Ali was the first boxer to come into my radar. My Radar O’Reilly. He came in floating like a butterfly. He came in stinging like a bee. Ooohh la la, ah oui oui. I say Muhammad Ali. You say Cassius Clay. I say butter, you say Parkay. He’s the greatest either way. The greatest show on earth. The most recognizable man on earth. More recognizable than His Airness. More recognizable than Tiger. More recognizable than Bend It. More recognizable than anybody. Shook the world. Shook my world. Shook my world back in 1975. He was a fast machine. He kept his motor clean. He was the best damn fighter I had ever seen! The Thrilla in Manilla. The first fight I ever saw. It will be a killa and a chilla and a thrilla, when I get the #### In Manila! The finale of the Ali/Frazier troika. The Ali/Frazier jump for joyka. Best damn fight ever, boyka! Right from the giddyup we knew we were witnessing greatness. Heavyweightness. From here to the Golden Stateness. In the fourth round Ali busted Frazier’s mouth open. Busted it wide open. Frazier just kept on a coming. The fight became ferocious, furious, vicious, merciless. In the sixth round, Frazier threw a left hook that Angelo Dundee says was the hardest shot he had ever seen. The hardest there’s ever been. I couldn’t believe my TV screen. It landed on Ali’s jaw, and spun his head clear around. Regan MacNeil style. Somehow, Ali ate the shot and said to Frazier: “They told me Joe Frazier was washed up.” The fight began to turn Frazier’s way. It was becoming his day. He began to put on a display. His body shots drove into Ali’s kidneys, ribs and liver. Body blow! Body blow! Body blow! Go for the ribs, don't let that #### breathe! They seemed to suck the life out of Ali. “Damn!” Frazier said to his corner after the bell, “What’s keeping that mother####kin fool up?” But in rounds twelve and thirteen, Ali delivers forty-three punches to Frazier’s head. Dawn of the Dead. I am the greatest he said. Down does not go Frazier! You never got me down, Ray. Ya hear me? Never got me down. More of the same in fourteen. Smokin’ Joe wobbles but he don’t fall down. After round fourteen, Frazier’s face is one huge lump. One huge bump. One huge clump. His left eye completely shut. He ain't pretty no more. When the round ended, the referee had to guide Joe back to his corner because he could not see where he was. Frazier’s trainer Eddie Futch: ”Sit down, son, it’s over. But no one will ever forget what you did here today.” No they won’t Eddie, no they won’t. Frazier: “Man, I hit him with punches that’d bring down the walls of a city. Lawdy, lawdy, he’s a great champion.” Yes he was Joe, yes he was. Ali: “It was the closest thing to death that I could feel.” Tonight, we have had the privilege of witnessing the greatest exhibition of guts and stamina in the history of the ring! Ali fought some more. Won some more. But was never the same. That fight proved to me, he truly was the Greatest.
Josh Q. Public: Amadeus Amadeus, oh oh oh Amadeus. Come and rock me Amadeus. -Falco
Public Service Announcements: Ok, here we go! The one hit wonders. The one and doneders. The boy blunders. Here are my top three in no particular order:
Don Majkowski: The Magic Man.Quarterback. Green Bay Packers. Breaking out in 1989. Breaking out Michael Scofield style. Breaking out Thin Lizzy style. Breaking out with 4,318 passing yards. An NFL leading and Packer team record 4,318 passing yards. Breaking out with 353 passes in 599 attempts. Breaking out with twenty-seven touchdowns. The Magic Man led the Pack to a 10-6 record. The Magic Man made it to the Pro-Bowl. The Magic Man made it to the cover of Sports Illustrated. The savior of the Packers. The toast of the town. The next season, Majkowski was injured when he was upended and tackled on his shoulder by Freddie Joe Nunn. His season done. No more laughing, no more fun. He was never the same. Tore ligaments in his ankle. Lost his job to Ted Stroehmann’s boy Brett Favre. Wally Pipp style. He played for the Colts. He played for the Lions. But the magic was gone. His account overdrawn. No more Dom Perignon.
Mark Fidrych: The Bird. The pride of Northborough, Mass. The quintessential one-hit wonder. 1976 was the year. The Bird showed no fear. Making Tiger’s fans everywhere stand up and cheer. He put together one of the most captivating seasons back in 1976. He filled Tiger Stadium. He filled visiting stadiums. His arm electric. Hs antics eccentric. The Bird went 19-9. He did not make his first start until mid-May. He threw seven no-hit innings, giving up just two hits. The Bird went on to win a total of 19 games. The Bird went on to lead the league with a 2.34 ERA. The Bird went on to lead the league with twenty-four complete games. He was the starting pitcher in the All-StarGame. He won the American League Rookie of the Year Award. He finished second in voting for the Cy. The Bird talked to the baseball. He swore at the baseball. He paced the mound like a mad man. He made the cover of Sports Illustrated twice. Get the papers, get the papers. He made the cover of The Sporting News. He became the first athlete to ever appear on the cover of Rolling Stone. He had the nation in the palm of his hand. We loved him. Six weeks into the next season he felt his arm just, in his words, “go dead.” Torn rotator cuff. Played some. Sat some. But that was pretty much it. That 1976 season was perhaps the most magical seasons I have ever witnessed.
Buster Douglas: Buster had been fighting since the late 1970s. He had all the tools. All the physical necessities. He lacked desire. He lacked the hunger. He lacked motivation, determination. Simply gave up against Tony Tucker for the IBF title. When he found himself going up against Iron Mike, he was a 42-1 underdog. Speed of lightning, roar of thunder. Fighting all who rob or plunder. Underdog. Underdog! Buster dominated the fight from the beginning to end. His mighty right, his best friend. Michael’s knees he did bend. By the fifth round the champ’s left eye was swollen shut from all of Buster’s rights. So many rights, Mike was begging for a left. The Dynamite Kid was able to knock Douglas to the canvas in the eighth, but that was it. You know what happens next. You don’t have to read the text. The punch that left a nation vexed. After one minute and five seconds of round ten: Uppercut! Body blow! Body blow! Left-right-left! Down goes Tyson! Down goes Tyson! Down goes Tyson! Rocky Lives! He shook the world! Buster seemingly ate all his winnings and never was able to recapture the glory.
Others:Gord Kluzak. Number one pick by the Boston Bruins in 1982. Injury after injury. Joe Charboneau. Super Joe Charboneau. A guy who could blast a booming homer and then celebrate after the game by opening a beer bottle with his eye socket. Who’s the newest guy in town? Go Joe Charboneau! Turns the ballpark upside down? Go Joe Charboneau! Who’s the one to keep our hopes alive? Straight from seventh to the pennant drive. Raise your glass, let out a cheer, for Cleveland’s Rookie of the Year! The Boz. Valeri Zelepukin. Kevin Maas. Timmy Smith. Jim Carey. Clint Longley. Al Hill. Todd Maranovich. Funny, couldn’t think of any NBA guys.
Sorry for the NFL posting. Didn't know where else to put it.
Josh Q. Public:I’m rough like a freight train, smooth like ice. And yo Jeff, straight up, I think I can beat Mike Tyson. -The Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! My Celtics are done. My Bruins no fun. Too early to start my Red Sox are number one. So I turn to boxing. The sweet science. The sweetest taboo. With everybody’s panties in a bunch lately over fighting in sports, I bring you the sport of fighting. I watch Friday Night Fights. I watch World Class Championship Boxing. I watch Boxing After dark. I watch HBO World Championship Boxing. I watch Showtime Championship Boxing. I watch all of it. There’s Pretty Boy Floyd Mayweatherwith his gaudy record of 37 wins, 0 losses, 0 draws and 24KOs. A World Champion at four different weights. There’s Marco Antonio Barrera. Anyone who said that his career was finished was proven wrong. Proven wrong after sound beatings of Erik Morales and Rocky Juarez. There’s Washington DC’s own Winky Wright. Wright, completely outclassing Ike Quartey, the WBC and WBA Light Middleweight Champion. There’s WBO Super Middleweight Champion Joe Calzaghe, just dominating his division for about a decade. And then there’s Manny Pacquiao.
For my money, this Pac Man is the best pound for pound fighter in the world today. Always putting on a display. A warrior all the way. A hero from here to the Manila Bay. If you haven’t seen him, I implore you to do so. He is exciting. He is tenacious. Vivacious. Salacious. Vexatious. He is the reigning WBC International Super Featherweigt Champion. He is the former IBF Super Bantamweight Champion. He is the former WBC Flyweight Champion. He has a record of forty-three wins, three losses, and two draws. Thirty-four of those wins coming by way of knockout. But that doesn’t tell half the story. In the ring he is a monster. The Muammad Ali of the Phillippines. The Phillippine Phenom. Republica Enemy Number One. The Destroyer. Pac Man.
Pac Man gobbling up opponents. He gobbled up Erik Morales. El Terrible. Gobbled him up and spit him out. Gobbled him up and spit him out in the third and final fight of the trilogy. The third and final fight of the trilogy back in November. Everybody thought this rubber match would be the fight of the year. Everybody was wrong. Pac Man dished out an ever-loving beating. Left him eating Cream of Wheating. The fight started off much like the Tommy Hit Man Hearns/Marvelous Marvin Hagler fight of yore. Ended that way too. Both fighters coming out swinging. Both landing crushing blows. End of the second round. There’s a left by Manny. Down goes Morales! Down goes Morales! Down goes Morales! He got knocked down, but he he got up again. You’re never gonna keep him down. Yes you are. Third round. Manny relentless. Repentless. Beating El Terrible senseless. Thunderous right hook after thunderous hook. Over and over again. Tex Cobb. Down goes Morales! Down! Down! Stay down, Rock. Nope. Another left. Welcome to dreamland baby! The fight earned Republica Number One, Fighter of the Year honors. The fight established this two-handed punch machine as the greatest fighter today. The Destroyer’s planned April 14 showdown against world-rated Mexican Jorge Solis may be in jeopardy. He has hinted that he may decide to wait for a big money showdown against the winner of the March 16 battle between World Boxing Council Super Featherweight Champion Marco AntonioBarrera and Juan Manuel Marquez. I don’t care who he fights. I just want to watch it. I just want to watch the Destroyer. The sweetest scientist in the world.
Josh Q. Public: I am, I am Superman, and I can do anything. -REM
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! I know the Round Mound said athletes aren’t role models, but he never said anything about being heroes. I had to do this one. I had to pay homage to my new favorite TV show not called Dexter. I did this once with Deadwood, and both my readers seemed to enjoy it. So let's do this. Like you always knew this. Put the pedal to the metal to this : If Athletes Were Heroes:
1. Hiro Nakamura: Able to bend space and time. He does it on the dime. I bet he can even rhyme. Has to be The Great One. Wayne Gretzky. How else can you explain what this guy’s done did? Again and again and again. He must have stopped the old clock. Maybe had a Rolling Rock. I mean how’s this little dude skating by, around and through folks. Giving them the old okie dokes. Just deeking dudes like Brady to Brian Urlacher. His name is in the record books 61 times. 61 times. No one could stop him. Ever. Like they were standing still. Like they were stopped in time.
2. Claire Bennet: The cutest little cheerleader you ever did see. Sweet as a honey bee. Chompers is in love. Is that wrong? Claire Bear has the ability to regenerate. Any wound, any injury, she recuperates. Has to be Ted Stroehmann’s boy Brett Favre. Takes a licking and just keeps on ticking. The Packers starting QB since 1992. Has not missed one game. Not one, I tell you. Holds the NFL quarterback record for consecutive starts with 232 (252 total starts including playoffs). Yowza! Makes Cal look like a slacker. I mean football’s a man’s game. Takes a hero to start 252 straight games at QB. Or a lot of pain killers. But who am I to judge?
3. Sylar: Sylar has the ability to do it all. You guessed it. Vincent Edward Jackson. Huh? Who? Bo knows heroes. That’s who. All-Star in football. All-Star in baseball. The best Tecmo player ever created. Is there nothing this cat couldn’t do? Homerun in the MLB All-Star game. The only football player with two touchdown runs over 90 yards. Bo Jackson was the most electric athlete I ever saw.
4. Nathan Petrelli: Flyboy. Who else? His Airness. Michael Jeffery Jordan. Need I say more? I thought not.
5. Peter Petrelli: The leech. Will style. Sucking powers off of those around him. MJ’s boy. Scottie Pippen. He only had powers when Jump Man was near. His powerless appearances in Houston and Portland proved as much.
6. Niki Sanders: And her baaaad alter ego Jessica. One minute she’s Peaches and Herb; the next she’s Hyde and Hyde. Michael Barrett. One second he’s your boy next-door, mild mannered catcher. The next, boom goes the dynamite! I didn’t have the ball ####!
7. Nuclear Ted: He’s radioactive. The Firm style. Super duper power. Has no idea how to control it. Leaving body bag after body bag in his wake. Michael Tyson. The original Dynamite Kid. If that cat could have contained his super power, he would have been the Heavyweight Champion of the World for a very long time. He could not. He became a pariah. Much like our boy Nuclear Ted.
8. The Haitian: You know, that mysterious bald dude who has the ability to wipe peoples’ memory. Pedro Martinez. Everybody just seemed to forget about his change-up. How do you explain that? Mugs just kept swinging like he didn’t have one. Like the cheese was coming. Like they forgot.
9. Eden McCain: The shorthaired pixie girl. She has the power of suggestion. Only in America baby. Only in America. Don King. I don’t know how he does it. He convinces mugs everywhere he’s not a criminal. He is you know. A stone cold killer. Two times over. A thief. A liar. A cheat. But he has us all convinced he’s not. Has convinced investors he’s not. Has convinced a whole stable of boxers he’s not. Has convinced Howard Stern and Jimmy Kimmel he’s not. Only in America.
10. Matt Parkman. The mind reading cop. Did you think this guy wasn’t making it? C’mon. Larry Legend. He knew what you were going to do before you did it. Every single time. He knew what you were going to do, and he exploited you. Made you feel all broke like.
11. Isaac Mendez: The kooky artist who paints the future. But only when he’s all hepped on smack. Easy, right? No brainer, right? Dock Ellis, right? The only time he was any good, he was all hepped up on LSD. Pitched a no-hitter on acid. Dock: “The ball was small sometimes, the ball was large sometimes, sometimes I saw the catcher, sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes I tried to stare the hitter down and throw while I was looking at him. I remember diving out of the way of a ball I thought was a line drive. I jumped, but the ball wasn’t hit hard and never reached me.” A true visionary.
josh q. public. For the public, by The Public. Irreverent sports opinion from a Bostonian in New York. The one blog to read, when you’re reading more than one. Good to the last drop!
I’m gonna knock you out. Mama said knock you out. He’s knocking folks out at a staggering pace. Knocking out mugs all over the place. Hail Mary, full of Grace. Just knocked out Contender alumnus and the Pride of Providence, Peter Manfredo. Knocked him out in the third. You heard? Word! Manfredo had no answer for Calzaghe’s trademark super-fast punches. Punches in bunches. Punches that put you out to lunches. The Pride of Wales came out at a frenetic pace in the third. The Pride of Wales threw ninety-two punches over the one minute-and-a-half the third lasted. Blasted. Outclasseded. Flurries. Furious flurries. Fast and Furious flurries. If you have what it takes, you can have it all. Dominic Toretto style. Manfredo did his best to bob and weave. He rope a doped the evil with righteous bobbin’ and weavin’.
Tried to let the good get even. To no avail. C’mon down. Welcome to the Terrordome. Referee, Terry O’Connor was forced to halt the bout. Winner and still champeen, Joe Calzaghe. That was the Dragon’s twentieth successful title defense. His twentieth successful defense since he won the title from Chris Eubank in 1997. Goodness! That equals Bernard the Executioner Hopkins’ and Larry the Easton Assaisin Holmes’ marks. It also moves Joe within five of the Brown Bomber, Joe Louis’ record. Gracious. With a win over Denamrk’s Mikkel the Hitman Kessler, hopefully in July, The Welsh Warrior will take his rightful place atop boxing’s elite. C’mon down. Welcome to the Terrordome.
heavyweight championship belts are in the possession of boxers from former Soviet republics. Well the Ukraine girls may really knock me out. They may leave the west behind. And Moscow girls may make me sing and shout, but those great American heavyweight are always on my my my my my my my my my mind. The Russians have far too many constanants for my tastes. Wladimir Klitschko. Nicolay Valuev. Sergei Liakhovich. Oleg Maskaev. What a disgrace. I consider it a challenge before the whole human race. And I ain’t gonna lose. We are the champions my friends! Ah, the champions. I wonder, yes I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder, where have all the great heavyweight fighters of my lifetime gone? Whatever happened to the guys who ate lightning? Whatever happened to the guys who crapped thunder? So here it is. Here is my small tribute to the greatest heavyweight fighter and the greatest heavyweight fight I ever saw:
giddyup we knew we were witnessing greatness. Heavyweightness. From here to the Golden Stateness. In the fourth round Ali busted Frazier’s mouth open. Busted it wide open. Frazier just kept on a coming. The fight became ferocious, furious, vicious, merciless. In the sixth round, Frazier threw a left hook that Angelo Dundee says was the hardest shot he had ever seen. The hardest there’s ever been. I couldn’t believe my TV screen. It landed on Ali’s jaw, and spun his head clear around. Regan MacNeil style. Somehow, Ali ate the shot and said to Frazier: “They told me Joe Frazier was washed up.” The fight began to turn Frazier’s way. It was becoming his day. He began to put on a display. His 
body shots drove into Ali’s kidneys, ribs and liver. Body blow! Body blow! Body blow! Go for the ribs, don't let that 
Illustrated. The savior of the Packers. The toast of the town. The next season, Majkowski was injured when he was upended and tackled on his shoulder by Freddie Joe Nunn. His season done. No more laughing, no more fun. He was never the same. Tore ligaments in his ankle. Lost his job to Ted Stroehmann’s boy Brett Favre. Wally Pipp style. He played for the Colts. He played for the Lions. But the magic was gone. His account overdrawn. No more Dom Perignon. 
Mark Fidrych: The Bird. The pride of Northborough, Mass. The quintessential one-hit wonder. 1976 was the year. The Bird showed no fear. Making Tiger’s fans everywhere stand up and cheer. He put together one of the most captivating seasons back in 1976. He filled Tiger Stadium. He filled visiting stadiums. His arm electric. Hs antics eccentric. The Bird went 19-9. He did not make his first start until mid-May. He threw seven no-hit innings, giving up just two hits. The Bird went on to win a total of 19 games. The Bird went on to lead the league with a 2.34 ERA. The Bird went on to lead the league with twenty-four complete games. He was the starting pitcher in the All-Star Game. He won the American League Rookie of the Year Award. He finished second in voting for the Cy. The Bird talked to the baseball. He swore at the baseball. He paced the mound like a mad man. He made the 
cover of Sports Illustrated twice. Get the papers, get the papers. He made the cover of The Sporting News. He became the first athlete to ever appear on the cover of Rolling Stone. He had the nation in the palm of his hand. We loved him. Six weeks into the next season he felt his arm just, in his words, “go dead.” Torn rotator cuff. Played some. Sat some. But that was pretty much it. That 1976 season was perhaps the most magical seasons I have ever witnessed.
Buster Douglas: Buster had been fighting since the late 1970s. He had all the tools. All the physical necessities. He lacked desire. He lacked the hunger. He lacked motivation, determination. Simply gave up against Tony Tucker for the IBF title. When he found himself going up against Iron Mike, he was a 42-1 underdog. Speed of lightning, roar of thunder. Fighting all who rob or plunder. Underdog. Underdog! Buster dominated the fight from the beginning to end. His mighty right, his best friend. Michael’s knees he did bend. By the fifth round the champ’s left eye was swollen shut from all of Buster’s rights. So many rights, Mike was begging for a left. The Dynamite Kid was able to knock Douglas to the canvas in the eighth, but that was it. You know what happens next. You don’t have to read the text. The punch that left a nation vexed. After one minute and five seconds of round ten: Uppercut! Body blow! Body blow! Left-right-left! Down goes Tyson! Down goes Tyson! Down goes Tyson! Rocky Lives! He shook the world! Buster seemingly ate all his winnings and never was able to recapture the glory.
Others: Gord Kluzak. Number one pick by the Boston Bruins in 1982. Injury after injury. Joe Charboneau. Super Joe Charboneau. A guy who could blast a booming homer and then celebrate after the game by opening a beer bottle with his eye socket. Who’s the newest guy in town? Go Joe Charboneau! Turns the ballpark upside down? Go Joe Charboneau! Who’s the one to keep our hopes alive? Straight from seventh to the pennant drive. Raise your glass, let out a cheer, for Cleveland’s Rookie of the Year! The Boz. Valeri Zelepukin. Kevin Maas. Timmy Smith. Jim Carey. Clint Longley. Al Hill. Todd Maranovich. Funny, couldn’t think of any NBA guys. 
with his gaudy record of 37 wins, 0 losses, 0 draws and 24KOs. A World Champion at four different weights. There’s Marco Antonio Barrera. Anyone who said that his career was finished was proven wrong. Proven wrong after sound beatings of Erik Morales and Rocky Juarez. There’s Washington DC’s own Winky Wright. Wright, completely outclassing Ike Quartey, the WBC and WBA Light Middleweight Champion. There’s WBO Super Middleweight Champion Joe Calzaghe, just dominating his division for about a decade. And then there’s Manny Pacquiao.
today. Always putting on a display. A warrior all the way. A hero from here to the Manila Bay. If you haven’t seen him, I implore you to do so. He is exciting. He is tenacious. Vivacious. Salacious. Vexatious. He is the reigning WBC International Super Featherweigt Champion. He is the former IBF Super Bantamweight Champion. He is the former WBC Flyweight Champion. He has a record of forty-three wins, three losses, and two draws. Thirty-four of those wins coming by way of knockout. But that doesn’t tell half the story. In the ring he is a monster. The Muammad Ali of the Phillippines. The Phillippine Phenom. Republica Enemy Number One. The Destroyer. Pac Man.
Pac Man gobbling up opponents. He gobbled up Erik Morales. El Terrible. Gobbled him up and spit him out. Gobbled him up and spit him out in the third and final fight of the trilogy. The third and final fight of the trilogy back in November. Everybody thought this rubber match would be the fight of the year. Everybody was wrong. Pac Man dished out an ever-loving beating. Left him eating Cream of Wheating. The fight started off much like the Tommy Hit Man Hearns/Marvelous Marvin Hagler fight of yore. Ended that way too. Both fighters coming out swinging. Both landing crushing blows. End of the second round. There’s a left by Manny. Down goes Morales! Down goes Morales! Down goes Morales! He got knocked down, but he he got up again. You’re never gonna keep him down. Yes you are. Third round. Manny relentless. Repentless. Beating El Terrible senseless. Thunderous right hook after thunderous hook. Over and over again. Tex Cobb. Down goes Morales! Down! Down! Stay down, Rock. Nope. Another
left. Welcome to dreamland baby! The fight earned Republica Number One, Fighter of the Year honors. The fight established this two-handed punch machine as the greatest fighter today. The Destroyer’s planned April 14 showdown against world-rated Mexican Jorge Solis may be in jeopardy. He has hinted that he may decide to wait for a big money showdown against the winner of the March 16 battle between World Boxing Council Super Featherweight Champion Marco Antonio Barrera and Juan Manuel Marquez. I don’t care who he fights. I just want to watch it. I just want to watch the Destroyer. The sweetest scientist in the world.
2. Claire Bennet: The cutest little cheerleader you ever did see. Sweet as a honey bee. Chompers is in love. Is that wrong? Claire Bear has the ability to regenerate. Any wound, any injury, she recuperates. Has to be Ted Stroehmann’s boy Brett Favre. Takes a licking and just keeps on ticking. The Packers starting QB since 1992. Has not missed one game. Not one, I tell you. Holds the NFL quarterback record for consecutive starts with 232 (252 total starts including playoffs). Yowza! Makes Cal look like a slacker. I mean football’s a man’s game. Takes a hero to start 252 straight games at QB. Or a lot of pain killers. But who am I to judge?
Need I say more? I thought not.
8. The Haitian: You know, that mysterious bald dude who has the ability to wipe peoples’ memory. Pedro Martinez. Everybody just seemed to forget about his change-up. How do you explain that? Mugs just kept swinging like he didn’t have one. Like the cheese was coming. Like they forgot.
10. Matt Parkman. The mind reading cop. Did you think this guy wasn’t making it? C’mon. Larry Legend. He knew what you were going to do before you did it. Every single time. He knew what you were going to do, and he exploited you. Made you feel all broke like. 
