Don’t be coy. We all know you are here for the not-so-studly intellectuals who saturate these pages, along with your social media feed, week after week and move the chains of stupidity, bringing us all closer to the realization that Idiocracy might become a documentary.
Anyways, it’s 1st down and 10 and I’ve got to water these Brawndo crops with toilet water.
Don’t forget to let us know when you come across something like what you see below at @Gruelingtruth, @GriffosHanky, @TGTN_BoxingTGTN_Boxing”>@TGTN_Boxing/a>, or notify us on Facebook, either on my Page, TGTN, or TGTN Boxing. You get a write-in at the bottom of the articles.
Is there a more diluted term in sports than “world champion” in professional boxing? Unlike other athletic endeavors which make things clear-cut by consistently pitting their #1 and 2 teams/players together to crown a king, prizefighting has 17 weight divisions and could theoretically have 85 “world champions” in all (1 IBF, 1 WBA, 1 WBC, 1 WBO, and 1 Lineal/Linear) at one time. It’s why I barely bother with who holds what anymore, unless it’s about lineage or the top-two are battling it out.
What this has to do with Mayweather and the graphic above is that the era in which he competed in allowed for far more titleholders than those of boxing’s more golden days, when 8 classes were the standard and The Ring was instrumental in telling us who “the man” was.
“Sugar” Ray Robinson, a man who treaded an initial path similar to Mayweather’s (if you use a classic eight division context, both would have competed from 135-160), didn’t have 140, 154, and 168 as stopovers, nor did he have 3+ more belts to pick on the way up. So even though Ray participated in bouts covering a 40-pound difference (135-175) and Floyd crossed about half of that in 24 (130-154), what you have is a face-value statistical comparison that has the former defeating 11 world champions and the latter winning against 22. If you don’t know the history of the sport, which is commonplace, it sounds like a case.
That is, of course, until you tease out the details and begin to see why one is generally considered the best ever and one is not. Robinson amassed a glimmering mark of 22-10-1 (8 KOs)–20-3 before his first retirement–against fighters who were all real champions, 12 having an alternate address of 1 Hall Of Fame Dr, Canastota, NY. Mayweather maintains that 13-0 (3 KOs) if we apply similar context, though it should be added that it’s still bolstered by the junior/super classes. Would men like Genaro Hernandez and Ricky Hatton have held a title had they not had the comfort of the 130/140-pound divisions? Color me skeptical.
The fact is that Mayweather never fought a lightweight as great as Angott, a man capable of beating Pep; he never overcame a welterweight as significant as Kid Gavilan, who rates 6th all-time for the International Boxing Research Organization; he has not beaten a middleweight like Jake LaMotta, or even Gene Fullmer. He never took the chances Robinson did; he didn’t have the all-around ability.
Historians aren’t wearing rose-tinted glasses here.
Mayweather would have never struggled with an all-time great middleweight who was physical, banged to the body consistently, had an engine, and was used to doing 15 rounds… That’s actually right, seeing as Mayweather would have never fought him.
The Hall of Fame bit is an odd one. Anyone with internet access could venture over to the International Boxing Hall of Fame’s website and tally it up: Robinson 12; Mayweather 2.
Here is Zab Judah’s CV through 12:
Here is Shane Mosley’s:
Here is Timothy Bradley’s:
Here is Vasyl Lomachenko’s:
This guy is reaching further than Muggsy Bogues used to when he went up for a rebound.
The kid has quick hands and one still photo of him avoiding a shot with his hands down is about all I’ve got. Maybe someone could enlighten me here.
Ryan Garcia has some things going for him–he has talent, he will sell to the ladies, and he’s active on social media, but you’re striking out with any sensible person posting this one.