[yt]wX2Qd-6UBf0[/yt] If at first, you don't succeed... This could be the official motto of either Oba's career (going 16-2-1 in his first nineteen bouts, through his loss to Hanagata...before flipping a switch and going the subsequent nineteen perfect, including six world title bouts) or Hanagata's (foiled early and often, constantly having to rebuild his sandcastle as the waves came to knock it down...rising not once but twice up through his compatriots' ranks to become Japanese fly champion and twice being thwarted in his bids for the green belt. It wouldn't be until the waning twilight of his campaign that he obtained a piece of that rarefied pie, in his fifth attempt...and upon losing it made two more stabs for a total of eight - seven times holding the bridesmaid's flowers, most of those bitterly close disappointments) It could also be the caption for either man's demeanor between the ropes. The working-class jab specialist from the capital and the Energizer bunny spark-plug from the suburbs - both were capable of and readily willing to subject their bodies to withstanding a downpour of well-executed offense from an opponent without ever going into retreat mode, nor losing their composure or abandoning their strategy in the face of adversity. Both were unflappable to their cores. They needed that quality on this night. Oba built up a lead slowly but surely in the early going, swiveling and tracking Hanagata with that beautiful jab and drizzling in the cross just a touch as needed, like a chef making an emulsification. The middle of the contest, particularly the 7th through 11th, were a symphony of tit for tat as Hanagata began to dizzy Oba with his tireless circling and hook-centric attack. In the championship rounds, it seemed at times Hanagata might be on the verge of an epic come-from-behind stoppage (rare for him, but it would've been forgivable had Oba succumbed given his fatigue and the sheer accumulation both had dished out) but the champ would inevitably repel each finishing stroke and blast a few quick accurate straight combinations of his own to assert his dominion. They degenerated into sloppy barroom-grade fisticuffs, but the 14th and 15th were rich in drama and intense enough to bring the notoriously reserved Tokyo boxing crowd to a fever pitch, everyone standing. The crazy thing is that both had perhaps their greatest wars ahead of them...and both with the same enemy in Chionoi. Oba would die tragically young not long after rising from the canvas and turning away Chionoi his final defense. Hanagata eerily also tasted victory for the last time beating Chionoi for the very same WBA flyweight title - losing it by inches to Salavarria and coming up short once more in the rematch, and then copping a lesson from ATG Canto in a third and last grasp at the green belt. Oba didn't have a chance to carve out too great a legacy, but he was clearly entering his prime and showed enough to deduce that a fantastic body of work got nipped in the bud. The bravery, constancy, and the ability to simply trowel his way back from the edge with his jab earmarked him for, at minimum, IBHOF potential. Arguably he could get in even on his existing laurels. Hanagata is even less remembered abroad than his legendary countryman, which is really a shame. He didn't have enough of the close ones go his way to be celebrated as much, nor did he endure the young demise that so often enhances one's stature. He was still a very classy operator despite his rampantly inconsistent results. (Talk about inconsistent...he was all over the map in rematches. He drew with Kenji Ashikaga, then lost, then again drew, and finally beat him. He lost to Yoshiako Matsumoto and then drew with him. He beat Masao Oba and Efren Torres in 10-rounders but later would unsuccessfully challenge them over the championship 15. He lost to Shigeru Taremizu and revenged himself five years later. He outpointed Speedy Hayase, Seiichi Watanuki, and Mikio Nakada twice each for the Japanese title. He suffered his only ever KO loss to Osamu Haba, then in the immediate rematch took a unanimous decision to reclaim his Japanese title. He fought Salavarria on three occasions for two different versions of the world title and the Filipino just shaded them all. He outpointed Takeo Sukegawa and three months later knocked him out in 2. Chionoi defeated him in his first defense after recapturing his title upon Oba's death, and got knocked out in the rematch a year later....) Absolutely insane. No discernible consistent pattern whatsoever. Some people excel in rematches, some do poorly. Hanagata was a bag of "god only knows WTF now!". What I'm driving at...had Oba's time not been cut short...a rubber match could have been yet another national treasure in Japanese boxing history with two homegrown combatants equally worthy of scrapping for the strap at world level, also enriching what shortly thereafter began shaping up to be a terrific 112lb era...and anything could have happened. :deal
Oba was done at 112 and had handed the title back before his retirement, think his weight problems were showing in his last bout or two there. What a terrible shame he died so young though. With Sal Sanchez he had enough of a career to say he was a great for Oba however he was a few years short of such acclaim.
Point taken, and super flyweight didn't officially exist yet so the door may well have been closed on Oba vs. Hanagata III anyway. (Susumu had technically had tuneups at 'bantamweight' although he never went above what later would be considered the super fly limit...chasing Oba all the way up to full bantam might have been unrealistic...) Eh, I don't put him on quite the same pedestal as Chava, obviously, but we saw enough to know he was special.
Great stuff IB. Regardless of where you rate him, Oba is a fascinating (but tragic) story. The fight with Chionoi is one of the greatest comebacks I've ever seen.
Incidentally... I'd probably have better luck spitting into the wind or wishing upon a star here, but has anyone ever had a whiff of knowing footage of Hanagata vs. Oba I to exist?
Oba's off the canvas waxing of the somewhat underrated flyweight contender Orlando Amores is also a lot of fun.