Jabs: Taking one or two is fundamental to a May comeback

By Norm Frauenheim–

The lines are getting longer and maybe the wait is getting shorter. If that sounds like a contradiction, welcome to a fine mess that has been raging for 12 months. February marks a forgettable anniversary. More headstone than happy.

Gone is the world as we knew it. At least, it’s been absent since Tyson Fury’s stoppage of Deontay Wilder in a Las Vegas rematch on Feb. 22. What followed was a prolonged string of postponements, social-distancing, masking-up, empty seats, bubble bouts and boredom.

Maybe, sellouts, beer lines, boos and cheers come back. Even trash talk would sound better than the artificial noise that fills today’s empty arenas. It’s the Pandemic version of elevator music.

Hope, at least, is on the horizon. There’s a chance to think that a meal in a restaurant, a regular haircut and a seat at ringside will cease to become a risk.

The Pandemic appears to be in retreat, according to various experts and numbers. An ongoing decline in the infection-and-hospitalization rate looks to be the result of vaccinations and COVID-19 survivors, according to the New York Times.

Combine the two, and you get the beginnings of herd immunity, according to the story. I hate crowds, but I’m hoping to join that herd. I’m eligible for my first jab, the UK word for a shot. Getting an appointment is a hustle. Getting in line is a hassle. But getting the virus is worse. There’s optimism in the waiting, unlike a few months ago when there was only worry and wondering.

Wondering if it would ever end.

There are still reasons to wonder. To wit: Thursday’s news that the Joe Smith-Maxim Vlasov fight for a vacant light-heavyweight title in Las Vegas won’t happen Saturday. COVID hasn’t quit yet. Vlasov tested positive.

 “I am devastated with the postponement of my world title fight against Joe Smith Jr,’’ Vlasov said in a Top Rank release about a bout that had been scheduled to headline an ESPN telecast. “I have been following strict protocols, I have done regular testing with negative results, and I have no symptoms. I am well prepared and had an excellent training camp. I look forward to the rescheduling of the fight.’’

The news is a reminder and a warning, both timely. Too much can still go awry in the fight to come back from a virus with almost as many mutations as there are masks. Health experts call them variants. They come from South Africa, or the UK, or Brazil, or the dark side of the moon. They’re scary because of their unpredictability. They could land like that proverbial punch, the one you never see.

Still, there’s the dose of hope that comes from the end a needle.

Signs of its potential impact are emerging. There was news this week that Canelo Alvarez has been granted a promoter’s license by the Nevada State Athletic Commission. It’s the first step in what looks to be plans for Canelo to fight UK super-middleweight champion Billy Joe Saunders on May 8 at Allegiant Stadium, the Raiders new home in Vegas.

May appears to be the target month for boxing to get back to something that resembles business-as-usual.

A long-anticipated Jose Ramirez-versus-Josh Taylor title-unification bout at junior welterweight is also scheduled for May 1 or May 8.

Then, there are heavyweights Anthony Joshua and Fury. They’ve reportedly agreed to two fights. The first is expected to happen in “late May, early June,” Joshua promoter Eddie Hearn has said repeatedly in multiple media reports.

The thinking – make that hope – is that the herd will have developed enough immunity in May to gather in numbers that can produce the kind of gate that can pay the fighters. The Pandemic’s empty seats have eroded the kind of purses fighters grew to expect, pre-COVID.

Example: Teofimo Lopez. He became a star with his decision in October over Vasiliy Lomachenko for the lightweight title in a bubble filled with cardboard cutouts instead of paying customers. It was the Fight of the Pandemic. It put Lopez in the top tier of the pound-for-pound scale. But the pay scale remains diminished. Pandemic pay will never fulfill Lopez’ current asking price — $10 million.

Only a vaccinated herd, healthy in body and wallet, can generate that kind of money. That’s as fundamental as jabs.

Delivering them.

Taking them, too.