By Bart Barry–
The May morning of 2015’s knockout of the year, the Saturday Mexican Saul “Canelo” Alvarez spearchiseled Texan James “Mandingo Warrior” Kirkland in Houston, catalyzed no thoughts of making the 150-minute eastwards trek from Alamo City to Minute Maid Park, home of Major League Baseball’s Astros, a stadium with a functional train in left field in homage to its location on the hallowed grounds of a hundred-year-old station. The stadium, celebrating its fourth and surely not final appellation, was christened “Enron Field” 15 years ago – back when energy arbitrage, electronically creating shortages and satisfying them at usurious prices, eGouging as it were, appeared to Wall Street like the industry to make America great again.
The usual credentials hassle handled by fightweek intervention from a powerful editor, a man so respected I was seated onfield under the opening of the opening rooftop, I celebrated my newly unprecedented access by not beginning the 2 1/2-hour drive from San Antonio till after the opening bell of an eight-hour fightcard rang on its cavernous park.
There was an enormous Chinese heavyweight on the undercard, a 7-foot and 280-pound Dong, he may even have been co-main, but he was so dreadful, and what followed was so excellent, the enormous Dong barely got written to the hard drive.
San Antonio promoter Mike Battah, the man who put more than 40,000 folks in Alamodome for Alvarez-Trout, invariably expected a better turnout for Alvarez-FellowTexan than he got, but blessings be rained upon him, he was deep in the PBC fold before the year was out, anyway, scared neither by public uninterest nor oversized venues (he rented AT&T Center for NBC’s December PBC broadcast).
Kirkland swarmed Alvarez at the opening bell, acquitting himself more savagely than insiders feared he mightn’t – so often veteran aggressors choose matches like these to apply singleply boxing skills, making the young champion hunt instead of defend – and Alvarez demonstrated composure appropriate to his record more than age.
Canelo iced Kirkland spectacularly before 31,000 Texans in round 3.
There’s a presence about Alvarez – these things begin with selfbelief and color in the details later – that speaks to a pair of ideas at first not apparently kin: mythology and confidence.
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The May morning of 2015’s knockout of the year, the Saturday Mexican Saul “Canelo” Alvarez spearchiseled Texan James “Mandingo Warrior” Kirkland in Houston, was not facinorous humid as feared when the match got announced, in fact, for as long as it took to open the rooftop, blow papers about, wet the bluemat, and close the rooftop, the May breeze off the Gulf was not facinorous at all.
In lieu of a mediacenter vending machine, the promoter gave each writer a giftcertificate to a ballpark vendor, and the balance bought an astrodog and cola, or nachos and change. The match happened a week after The Fight Boxing May Never Forgive, a legacymaking bore between Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao, a humiliating affair for all but one man and his advisor, and a humbling affair for the compliant media in attendance – men who knew the match would suck but didn’t dare opine so publicly lest their unassigned fightweek access remain unassigned come fightday.
Perhaps Kirkland was handpicked an opponent for Alvarez as critics insisted he was, but surely the tricky Austin Trout and dreadful Erislandy Lara were not, and Alvarez made fisticuffs with them willingly as he did with the Texan Mandingo.
What Alvarez came in boxing knowing still better than his promoter Oscar De La Hoya, who knew it rather well himself, is th’t we do not believe myths because they are true; myths become true when we believe them. Alvarez came to America believing his own myth, and excepting only his disgraceful showing against Money May, Alvarez, in both the opponents he’s selected and the way he’s undone them, has satisfied the requirements of his post.
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The May morning of 2015’s knockout of the year, the Saturday Mexican Saul “Canelo” Alvarez spearchiseled Texan James “Mandingo Warrior” Kirkland in Houston, there was some question if Kirkland’s ferocity mightn’t give Alvarez a momentary fright, but it didn’t, whatever Kirkland claimed after the match about a brief exchange in the first round. Kirkland’s conditioning was a certainty to no one, his relationship with mentor Ann Wolfe switched to Off for the biggest event in Kirkland’s unpredictable career, and the opening minute allowed those with eyes to see an inferential chance they’d not miss:
Kirkland conditioned himself for a savage 10-minute assault and a dramatic conclusion, his hand raised or chest chinpinned, and the match’s conclusion was not surprising as its style.
Alvarez did not grindout Kirkland, keepaway jabbing till the Texan was soft. Alvarez clipped him with a hook, clipped him with an uppercut, and iced him with a telegraphed righthand he framed for photographers by exaggeratedly feinting low, halfjabbing Kirkland to the body and watching his sternum. Kirkland dropped everything, realized he’d been hoodwinked, and started a hopeless lefthook in time to complete the aesthetics, winning Canelo 2015’s best knockout by compliantly screwtopping himself ropes to canvas.
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Editor’s note: Part 2 will be posted next Monday.
