It was almost four years ago this week that Mexican Jorge Solis sat in Pico de Gallo restaurant, sipping menudo. Pico de Gallo is a colorful cousin eatery to San Antonio’s famous Mexican restaurant Mi Tierra; Pico de Gallo is not quite in Market Square, not quite as well attended, not nearly as famous.
Solis was unknown that Saturday morning to other diners and wait staff. He was unremarkable in every way. He had a chance to change that anonymity 10 hours later when he fought Manny Pacquiao for a super featherweight title in Alamodome. He acquitted himself well for seven rounds, then Pacquiao saw his own blood, went maniacal and stopped him.
Solis had another chance Saturday to change prizefighting’s perception of him as a game loser, when he swapped blows with Cuban featherweight titlist Yuriorkis Gamboa in Atlantic City, in the main event of a decent HBO card. Gamboa won easily by TKO at 1:41 of round 4.
Before that, California’s Mikey Garcia stopped previously unbeaten Connecticut prospect Matt Remillard at the end of the 10th.
Back to Solis. After his knockout loss to Pacquiao, he fielded questions on a makeshift stage at the back of Alamodome. Pacquiao, then, had slashed Erik Morales to the mat in three rounds, five months before. He was not the international icon he is today, but he was five matches into the unbeaten streak that would make him a cult of personality.
The press corps for Pacquiao-Solis comprised a number of San Antonio Express-News writers, some Mexicans and lots of Filipinos. Most were curious to hear Solis describe his experience in the ring with Pacquiao and more curious still after Solis appraised Pacquiao’s power:
“With all due respect,” Solis said, “I believe my wife hits harder.”
Say this for Solis’ work as a fistic critic: He’s consistent. Saturday, after being run out the ring by Gamboa, he fielded another question about his experience with Pacquiao and was still unimpressed.
“Pacquiao doesn’t hit hard,” Solis said; “he is a machine that punches.”
For Gamboa, though, some enthusiastic praise:
“Damn!” Solis began. “(Gamboa) has a brutal punch.”
How seriously should we take Solis’ analysis? Not very. When he fought Pacquiao, Solis was an undefeated 27-year-old contender who didn’t understand the big deal about the Filipino; Solis had a touch of resentment for being the nameless b-side and third best-known Mexican on that “Blaze of Glory” card, behind Jorge Arce and Cristian Mijares.
Saturday, Solis was significantly less. His match with Gamboa was the first he’d made outside Mexico since Pacquiao. He was both grateful for being on television in the United States and aware of his limitations as a challenger.
Gamboa deserves credit nonetheless for what he did with Solis by circling him and surveying those limitations, taking his time in the first round, that is, before deciding to attack.
When it’s time Gamboa leaps. His punches are short. Well-leveraged. Chin safer than before. He commits. Without the arrogance of 2009.
Today Gamboa senses his promoter Top Rank acquired him to corner a market in the featherweight division. Gamboa’s nemesis, as it were, is Juan Manual “Juanma” Lopez, a charismatic Puerto Rican southpaw accompanied to the ring by Felix Trinidad and promoted more passionately by Top Rank. Juanma sells tickets. Gamboa does not. Juanma fights current or former world champions. Gamboa does not.
All indications Saturday were that Gamboa is an unstoppable force, one who might well tear through Juanma’s questionable chin and loose defense if Top Rank’s ever silly enough to make that fight. Don’t bet on it. While Juanma is making battles with the likes of Steven Luevano and Rafael Marquez, Gamboa is laying waste to a guy Pacquiao beat four years ago in Texas.
Writing of featherweight prospects laying waste to men in Texas, how about that Mikey Garcia? Much like Solis, until Saturday Garcia’s best-known appearance was made in Lone Star State – Laredo specifically – in a fight that saw him surprisingly undo Detroit southpaw Cornelius Lock. Unlike Solis, Garcia has a bright future.
Garcia also has a poise that can be learned but not taught, a way of managing the ring that happens when you’re around the ring from a young age, whether fighting or not, and seeing how professionals conduct themselves with gloves on. He has a sturdy chin that is equal parts conditioning, relaxation and preparedness; Garcia can take a good punch because he expects a good punch and knows knowledgeable former prizefighters like his brother and trainer Robert would not praise him if he were not from that special stock of men capable of sustaining other men’s fists in combat.
Matt Remillard hit Garcia with right crosses, Saturday. Garcia absorbed them and continued along unfazed. Garcia knew his punches hurt Remillard disproportionately more and felt little compulsion to prove it. Atlantic City had lost interest by the time Garcia found Remillard and ruined him. Garcia’s greatest offense was his unfazedness. He went forward, took punches, gave punches and broke his man’s spirit. Garcia will be only exciting as he needs to be to knock an opponent out. Boring knockouts, though, can a fine career make.
Garcia is also promoted by Top Rank, who now owns the featherweight division. Top Rank is no longer much interested in promoting shows with outfits other than itself, which is not palatable. What is worse, though, is that when it comes to the featherweight division, Top Rank is not interested in promoting shows even with itself. Bob Arum has gone to profane ends to assert what he will not do with Gamboa and Juanma – and Garcia’s people want no part of a lutte à trois either.
But fighters come with expiration dates. Ask Nonito Donaire, who recently abandoned Top Rank days after becoming a star. Top Rank has about a year left to make things happen in the featherweight division. After that, Gamboa might well look for golden opportunities elsewhere.
Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter: @bartbarry
Photo by Chris Farina / Top Rank
