A column with a lot of potential

By Bart Barry-

There were recent fights aplenty with which a
grateful boxing writer might fashion a column, and this writer should be
grateful as any, writing weekly columns, as he did, through yesteryear’s summer
famines.  But important as it is to write
well about great fights and the courage that makes them so is how difficult it
is to write well about poor fights and the mismatchmaking that makes them so.

One of the Brothers Charlo iced a two-sentence-Wikipedia
opponent a couple Sundays ago, the other Brother Charlo decisioned a
multi-sentence-Wikipedia opponent Saturday, and Demetrius Andrade kept his
resume spotless by keeping away from a featherfisted Pole.  Surely 80 minutes of prizefighting affords
material enough for 1,000 words of opinion. 
Or surely not.

I plead ignorance from the top.  I don’t know enough about either Charlo to
tell one from the other.  Both fought in the
last calendar week, both were defending a title of some sort because the
Brothers Charlo are PBC veterans enough to be titlists, though I can’t say
which Charlo beat whomever to attain whichever title or if either Charlo has
changed weightclasses anytime recently or really was defending a title
(Editor’s note: Actually, never mind).

Full disclosure: The closest I ever followed a
Charlo fight was when one of them sparred writer Kelsey McCarson for charity.

I expected the Brothers Charlo to be fighting on
Fox these days – didn’t they both do so a while back? – but I couldn’t find either
of them on my local Fox affiliate, and I haven’t had Showtime since December.  I watched their joint postfight
pressconference Saturday night on YouTube and came away feeling like I’d missed
not a thing since losing interest in them many years ago during a Houston
undercard or two.

The usual: Everybody respects us, nobody respects
us, the world is going to respect us; we’ve done so much, we’re just getting
started, wait till you see what’s next; nobody knows us, everybody recognizes
us, the people who know us best don’t know us at all; lions only, lions Only,
Lions Only!  If this were an effort to be
mysterious or conflicted or even controversial it would mean something more
than all it actually means, which is the standard and tired marketing fare of
being all things to all people, this time with a scowl of some sort.  One of the Brothers Charlo implied he
might’ve sold so many more tickets if he’d put himself in a larger venue, which
seemed an odd swipe to take at himself or his promotional partner, the other
Brother Charlo, sitting next to him and apparently in charge of booking.

What everyone realizes by now is the Brothers
Charlo and many of their PBC brethren are hamstrung by management.  They can dominate whomever PBC’s network of
matchmakers conjures up and wear whatever belts complicit sanctioners cobble
together, but they’ll not unify anything or attain universal recognition.

They wear the PBC on ShowFox belt, while an ESPN
champion makes war on his network’s nonentities, and a DAZN champ has a modicum
more respect, or much more respect, for having beaten a known opponent – read:
an opponent whose name you knew before the ESPN or ShowFox pressrelease – sometime
and somewhere in the last two years.

This shouldn’t be read, or at least not precisely,
as an indictment of PBC champions.  Most
of their safetyfirst exhibition title defenses happen before unenthusiastic
crowds and overly enthusiastic television crews, perhaps, but at least they’re
getting paid way more than fairmarket value for their efforts.  DAZN champions, meanwhile, are getting
overpaid, too, but with the very real chance they may be upset, through poor
fortune or tournament whimsy.  ESPN
champions get paid about the least and contend with the anxiety of a mercurial
boss and ingenious matchmaker; keep Bob happy and Bruce’ll get you opponents
that make you better, but make Bob unhappy and Bruce’ll get you beat by
Christmas.

Which all adds up to what?  About half a column, according to the count
in the bottomleft corner of this screen.

Then let’s dive shallowly into Demetrius “Boo Boo”
Andrade, the nearest DAZN has to a Brother Charlo of its own (unless you count
Danny Jacobs, whom you probably shouldn’t count because, after all, Jacobs has
tested himself by narrowly losing to his division’s two best men).

So much potential, that Boo Boo!

Literary critic James Wood once wrote, and I could
swear I once quoted but Google does not confirm, that potential is only potent
so long as it goes unused.  Nobody muses today
about Roberto Duran’s potential as a lightweight or Floyd Mayweather’s
potential as a pay-per-view attraction.  Potential
is what we assign teenage prospects, not 31-year-old middleweight titlists.

Andrade gets this. 
If you were to ask him about his potential this morning, probably he
would take it as the insult it intends and tell you how many tickets he just
sold in Rhode Island of all places.  He
should add but wouldn’t: “It’s 20-percent more tickets than Charlo sold in his
hometown the same night, and Charlo’s hometown is 12 times the size of mine.”

The reason he should add that is the reason he
won’t: Charlo, not Canelo, is whom Andrade should target as his breakthrough
opponent.  Who would win that match?  Nobody knows. 
There are potential-fetishists on either side of the debate.

The proper broadcaster for the match, however, be doubtless
– “ShoBox: The New Generation”.

Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter @bartbarry