By Bart Barry-
For a decade now when you ask a contemporary prizefighter or even just a kid in the gym eight years from turning pro if ever to name his favorite fighter, what he hears you ask is: Who among active fighters do people say made the most money in his last match? Since talk of a-sides and pay-per-view buys has replaced in many cases arguments about chin density or fistic mass the answer your query receives shouldn’t surprise you – even as a slowfooted Mexican kid says Floyd instead of Chocolatito.
Been thinking muchly on competence these last few weeks and as there’s no prizefighting of particular note this month or next month or the month after it’s good an idea as any to treat because it feels increasingly fleeting and comes with increasingly fewer reminders. A fetish has become of “flow” in some circles like psychology and neurology – fields reliably comprising a ratio of two scientists for every 1,000 gurus – and while it’s an interesting idea (“the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity,” according to Wikipedia) its most zealous adherents see in it a shortcut more than a performance enhancer. They do not achieve flow via mastery but flow in lieu of mastery, bumping from one unverifiable accomplishment like fluency in a language no one round them speaks to another like deejaying, without suffering the inconvenience of fundamentals.
Since these trends are pendular a fit argument can be made sometime in the last decade society fetishized certifications and reductionism too far and now the pendulum swings its way back, but there’s more to it than one pendulum. There is a shifting-criteria idea, too, gaining momentum – alternative facts from the American political right and grade inflation from the left – wherein standards are moved to meet subjective ideals instead of objective values. Here comes the concerning part: If you eschew expertise and ignore those who protect the canon, as it were, you do no lasting damage and likely enrich yourself in the process (pop musicians); if you pursue expertise while others weaken the canon little damage is done to anything but your savings account, as you commit personal resources to accomplishments less valuable than before (poets); but if you eschew expertise while others refine the definition of expertise in your favor you achieve influence.
Since this still purports to be a column about boxing we’ll use the example of Floyd “Money” Mayweather. For a goodish amount of time aficionados cared deeply about competitive spectacles and nothing for purses. With the advent of closed-circuit- and pay-per-view-type viewing experiences the number of aficionados willing to pay for a match contributed to a formula for evaluating its appeal, and reporters duly recorded it and later wrote novelty round it – how many dollars/second, for instance, Mike Tyson make in his match with Michael Spinks. It was never the primary criterion, though, till “records” began to fall and fighters other than heavyweights, Oscar De La Hoya being the first to come to mind, began to set those records. But even recently as De La Hoya’s match with Felix Trinidad aficionados cared far more about the match’s deserving winner than who made how much, and for all his accumulated wealth De La Hoya, who had genuine prizefighting expertise, really did fight prime versions of men who could beat him.
But the erosion was underway. Mayweather, who also had genuine prizefighting expertise, changed his nickname to Money and went about selling his undefeated record in place of competitive spectacles, which mattered little at first because those who protect the canon saw it as an amusing aberration and trusted aficionados’ perspective on Floyd would ever weigh his handicapping opponents against what revenues he generated to ensure he did not become more than an amusing aberration. But then circumstances began to converge, and a dearth of prizefighting expertise among prospects decimated the ranks of aficionados – which meant no one was left to guard the canon even while hustlerish things like purse size replaced expertise. This is how you get an Adrien “About Billions” Broner whose blinding handspeed, flow, in fact blinded observers to his abysmal footwork and defense, mastery, and merged with an evolving marketplace view like: the quality of a prizefighter is proportionate to the size of his purse.
A partial antidote to this is Mikey Garcia – partial, not full, because he lost years of his career to a fixation on purse size – who just untied Dejan Zlaticanin a couple Saturdays ago and reasserted his mastery of timing and space while so doing. Garcia is much better at the prizefighting craft than all but a handful of his contemporaries, most of whom are foreign-born and foreign-schooled. Garcia is of a prizefighting family: his handspeed remains a complement to his expertise not its replacement. To see Garcia from ringside, not unlike seeing Andre Ward, is to witness, in a word, competence, and while that may no longer ensure the wealth it brought even a generation ago it still pays quite well or at least better than poetry does.
Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter @bartbarry
