http://www.nowboxing.com/2020/05/ch...-today-not-skilled-my-son-beats-canelo/43004/ Some snippets But what I wasn’t was fluent and fluid and flowing, if you like, like a Pernell Whitaker who would dance in the middle of range and not be hit, while picking you to pieces. I would change pace, I would change direction, I would move in and out of range from both sides, because what I needed was the opponent to be offset for me to actually set myself to pivot, you see. I wasn’t very good, and so I just had to make the most of my movement in there. And I knew I worked on my dancing and moving more than any other fighter, so the opponent couldn’t telegraph me. I wouldn’t step or bounce like others, I would glide – due to the thousands of hours I put into moving around in the gym. And the judges are right there by the ring, at near eye level with my feet, so if they are seeing my feet moving on what appears to be cushions rather than a hard canvas, that’s appealing to them, even if subconsciously. Then a posture at the end of a round could swing it. Even if my opponent is more naturally talented than me and is outboxing me toe to toe, I’ve won the round on the scorecards. -- I felt my ring movement and jab would beat the gifted Mike McCallum, although in hindsight he’d of stopped me on body shots, late. I had about 2% bodyfat making 160 for title fights and fighting that evening, and McCallum was the master at finding the liver and solar plexus. -- There were fighters who had the beating of me if they were tougher or cleverer. Ron Essett for instance, give him my conviction or resolve and he beats me. He had faster hands than me, a master ring general and his jabs from the hip I couldn’t see coming when he decided to throw them. He was too scared to throw. And Henry Wharton, I couldn’t double or treble the left hook like Mr Wharton or switch from body to head or head to body like him. That’s mega talent. But he didn’t strategize or play chess in any way. I won 11 out of 12 against them, and they were better than me. -- It was fair enough, but Benn won really because 75-80% of my punches hit O2. He bobbed and weaved in a manner that wasn’t rhythmic like Joe Frazier. Imagine the Grandfather Clock but the oscillation of the pendulum changing pace and changing direction at different rates and times. Benn was impossible to read or nail down in the open air that night, and caught me with a leaping left hook in the 10th that would’ve dropped most heavyweights. He weaved his head in and out of and around a rapid-fire five- or six- punch combination from myself in the 8th that I’ve never seen another fighter in history able to do. Also Benn’s fitness to move his head and torso side to side in every second of 12 rounds I’ve never seen another fighter able to do above the lighter weights. I guess running 15 miles uphill in high altitude in his training camp while shadow boxing with wrist weights made Benn, by far, the fittest athlete in the world around that body mass. The judges must’ve appreciated my infighting that night – closing the gap to tie him up and landing the uppercut inside out of the clinch, or covering and countering with hooks and uppercuts. -- It’s not about that really, I mean…. [long pause] much was made in the press about Lindell Holmes being 35 years old. I was chastised for defending my title against a 35-year-old man. Yet this was the age Joe Calzaghe was when he beat Jeff Lacy and (Mikkel) Kessler. Bernard Hopkins was 40 when he beat Howard Eastman and 45 when he beat these light-heavies in their 20s! I am for the old school. Hopkins had those old school Philadelphian skills that the new guys, with P.E teachers as coaches, couldn’t contend with. Lindell Holmes had those old school Detroit tricks in there. I had been taught by Puerto Ricans and Dominicans in New York City. If you watch me against Lindell Holmes, you don’t see a two-way exhibition of boxing skill like that today. You see Mr Holmes stand in front of this young stallion, in myself – he had seen it all at Kronk and Michigan gyms in the 60s, 70s and 80s – and so he would parry my shots or roll his shoulders and throw the right hand counter or double hook. Experience is king. He knew I was catching his jab with the palm of my rear glove when trying to find range, so he doubled all the jabs and stepped in. He’d switch from body to head at rapid-fire speed, which was 20 years of muscle memory. I would then show my ring craft, get up on my toes, throw the double hook or hook off the jab. You don’t see these champions today hook off the jab, like Joe Calzaghe did, you see them jump onto these boxes with a 40lb vest! -- Saul “Canelo” Alvarez is the last one trained of the old school, the only one today I truly respect. Saul learned his trade in sparring, and against tough journeymen from a young age away from the spotlight, not in the Olympics or the weights room. He is a beautiful combination puncher. He punches from the foot from the first bell. He punches to the liver and solar plexus, to the chin, temple or behind the ear. He is a wonderful fighter. The best of the last 10 years. And he can absorb punches. The only way to beat him now is with the ability to absorb and the ability to out-land him by three or four to one, like Joe Calzaghe did against me, when I had become flat footed due to bad knees. Only my son could do that, if we boiled him down to middle.
-- If I’m not stepping in, I’m trebling or quadrupling it. Even when I’m stepping, I’m mostly doubling it. So my jab alone, coupled with my multi-directional foot movement and my cast-iron chin, just those three attributes alone would take some beating, for any human who has lived near my size. I may not of been all that good in my own view, but I had those and all the eye catching shots in my arsenal to sway judges with one shot if opportunity presented. I might not be good but I can beat you because you’re not perfect. Be it the picturesque torque of the left uppercut or right uppercut, the shortness of the pivoted left hook or the shortness of the right hand disguised by a jab feint with all my weight behind. I’m not actually that good, but I can beat you. You’re going to give me one opportunity every other round, I’m going to move my feet, jab stiff and posture to not lose most rounds. And I am going to strut between the rounds – are you? Did you train harder than me? Did you stay teetotal? For 10, 12 years? That gives me the right to pose, strut and win, or keep my championship.
Eubanks is himself a last throwback to Gene Tunney,Henry Ford...there has never been a more chivalrous warrior or intellect...iron willed....it was a incredible moment in my life bumping into him on edgeware road in 2006 and sgaking his hand... His unorthodox upbringing of his son and his installation of some of his traits has turned his son into a multi millionaire....all round great guy Mr Eubanks snr.....after 30 years...you could still listen to every word this man says. Another great thread Bulldog!
https://ibb.co/gdgPjXz An 18-year-old Eubank Sr in Manhattan in July 1985 with a black eye from sparring Jesse Lanton and Richard Burton at the old Gleasons (pre-DUMBO), black eye caused by Burton
