If MOST 90s-2000s punchers hit as hard as Shavers, how would we know?

Let's compare the fights of Larry Holmes vs. Earnie Shavers and Larry Holmes vs. Mike Tyson.
So we can come to some conclusions.

 

No cause thats been compared for years its outdated let's compare other boxers to earn on stoppages and drops and we see that earn has been disproven years ago by mutiple others

 

When I was a boy, Michael, maybe six, the year before I started hustling, I was mimicking everything I heard. Everyone in the family knew I'd imitate and mimicificate everything I heard and saw. Not that I was good at it, but that I'd try. My brother was a basketball player. He WORSHIPPED the very ground Kobe walked on. He wanted to *be* Kobe. And my sister, Vermoutha, she was always learning how to do things moms and grams was good at. Knitting, cooking, frowning, that kind of thing. I was known as "Boxed the mimic," she was known as "Little Mama" and my older brother, Strunzio, was known as "Laker." RIght? We all had our things. We had this clock that was an animal for each number on the clock. Like nine would be a elephant. Two was a wolf. They would make the sounds of the animal when the clock struck that time or that number, right? So, like, I was learning all of these all that year when I started this thing with the mimificating. And the mimicking. The wolf would howl and I'd howl all day till it sounded like the clock then when it struck that time, I be like "Ah-ooooooooooo," right?

Then there was this animal that was something uncommon, can't remember, but it had this weird chatter "Kickita kack-kickitia" way up high in the back of the throat. And I felt like I couldn't get it for the longest. It vexed me as a young man who imitated everything that I couldn't do this weird noise at all. I would do it and the little vein on my forehead would pop out and my face would scrunch up and I'd make a noise that wasn't that and the family would laugh at me. Because this was my thing and I couldn't do it. I hated it so bad. The shame drained my face of color and my legs of energy. I stayed up forever trying under the covers, making noises, people yelling and cussing at me "Go to sleep, Box! GO THE FLIP TO SLEEP!" and I'd be under the covers "Giggadack! K-K-Kuc-Ch-Chz!" and they thought I was having a clinically premature puberty before long, then I eventually just resigned myself to being happy that I could make all the other noises on the clock. Even though that one mocked me. I think it was a turtle or something. Like a exocktic one or something.

Anyways, the damn clock broke. But it still made that one noise. It got stuck on it and none of the other animal noises was working and yet every damn day that one time it would make that one noise, twice a day/night, every dang-on day/night. But it was the correct noise at the correct time. And since I couldn't do any of the other noises at any of the other times because it didn't work anywheres else no more...I started trying to make that unmakable noise again, right? So, my little sister looked up to my moms. My big brother looked up to Kobe. I even had a little cousin looked up to Jesus because his dad was a monk or some ish. Everybody look up to someone or someTHING. Me? I still have that clock as a family heirloom and for me? Even as a adult I still look up to that clock, broke or not. And, well, just like that clock, I also try to be right twice in a 24-hour cycle and never anymore than that. So, that make me less of a person? No. It makes me a man loyal to my dreams and my humble, and perhaps inauspicious beginnings. Peace. Be real. Be free. Never bend just because it's windy out.

 

You are a truly weird, endlessly inventive & wonderfully unique individual.

Let us know what that precise time is, & if you are still practicing.

 

Seven o'clock, I still practice, animal picture is worn off, gonna get there some day. As to the first sentence, this is not the first time you said something like this to me so this time I consulted a magic 8 ball and it said:
Facetious: 88%
I shook it again and it said: Thinks you're "special": 12%
So, shook it a third time, it said: Girl, he genuine: .???%
and I was like, but 88 and 12 already make 100% if those are likelihoods, right? and I shook it again and it just said "Lol, brah"

I think my magic 8 ball is broke. But since I know that third thing is possible, I'm gonna just say thank you, dawg.

 

Those toys have gotten more sophisticated with %...And you should believe the second affirmation, as it is about time it a 'mo blacker patois is used, it is not a caucasion ball lol!