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As Nottinghamshire’s Carl “The Cobra” Froch made his ringwalk, Saturday, Showtime commentator Steve Farhood recounted Froch’s run of super middleweight opponents since 2008 – Jean Pascal, Jermain Taylor, Andre Dirrell, Mikkel Kessler, Arthur Abraham – and approvingly added, “There’s not another active fighter you can name who’s faced that caliber of competition in such a period of time.”

Farhood’s assertion went untested for about 90 minutes. Then Mexico City’s “Dinamita” Juan Manuel Marquez made his way to a prizefighting ring on the other side of the world and took up Farhood’s challenge – naming Manny Pacquiao, Joel Casamayor, Juan Diaz, Floyd Mayweather, Juan Diaz again, and Michael Katsidis.

At worst, Dynamite finishes tied with The Cobra.

But Saturday was such a celebration of what boxing should be that, for once, the only disagreements worth tracking are those conducted between the ropes. No, Saturday, Nov. 27, was not enough to keep 2010 from being a steadfastly bad year, but it was still quite something. From the Hartwall Arena of Helsinki, Finland, to Oracle Arena in Oakland, USA, then back to MGM Grand in Las Vegas, boxing did itself proud.

In the final fight of Group Stage 3, part of Showtime’s durable “Super Six World Boxing Classic” – a tournament that, one way or many others, has managed to isolate four of the world’s five best 168 pounders in its upcoming semifinals – Carl Froch dominated Germany’s Arthur Abraham in Helsinki, winning by unanimous scores of 119-109, 120-108 and 120-108.

A while later, Super Six favorite Andre “Son of God (S.O.G.)” Ward, who defeated Andre Dirrell by walkover a month ago, participated in the hardest fight of his career, against Cameroonian Sakio Bika, and prevailed by misleadingly lopsided scores of 120-108, 118-110 and 118-110.

And while Ward brawled heavy with Bika in Oakland, master craftsman Juan Manuel Marquez rose from a knockdown to stop Australian Michael Katsidis at 2:14 of round 9 and remain the undisputed lightweight champion of the world, in Nevada.

Three completely different fights with six markedly different fighters leading to three matches that compared favorably with any Thanksgiving fare any other sport served up. Made you proud to love boxing, finally.

We start with Froch because his win was unexpected. The fight was a toss-up, really, as every fight in Showtime’s groundbreaking tournament has been. Froch was not favored. Arthur Abraham, looking to redeem himself after the year’s most notorious cheap shot, was expected to find Froch’s chin often enough to prevail. Instead, Froch borrowed Andre Dirrell’s approach and executed it better than Dirrell ever could.

Why did a man without Dirrell’s speed or class prevail over a man whom Dirrell was fading against in their March fight? Because Froch is a fighter, not merely an athlete who chose boxing because he heard you could make a lot of money doing it.

Remember for a moment the end of Dirrell-Abraham – with Dirrell on his trunks after a slip, legs splayed, chin in the air, hands on the mat, perfectly defenseless – when Abraham blasted him with a punch that merited immediate disqualification, rendering Dirrell unable to continue. Now see if you can imagine Froch in that same position.

You can’t. The idea of Froch helpless after an inanely showy move that dropped him on the canvas can’t be conjured. Froch has quirks, but expecting sportsmanship to stand between him and violence in a prizefighting ring is not one of them.

Froch did to Abraham what Manny Pacquiao did to Joshua Clottey. He determined his opponent would not punch so long as he was being punched, and he kept punching. The few times Froch was tagged by Abraham, like in the fifth round, Froch dropped his chin to his chest with a thud, then glared at Abraham from the tops of his eyes.

And in the 11th, when a borderline blow to Abraham’s beltline made the former middleweight champion a thespian, Froch had none of it. He went directly at Abraham, smacking him with three more body shots in a way that said: “This is a fight actually, you wanker, so have some more.”

Writing of fighting, how about that Andre Ward? A mollycoddled Olympian no more. The last American to win a gold medal looked like nothing so much as a prizefighter, Saturday. He went foul-for-foul with a crafty, rugged professional and beat him right. That’s no indictment of Bika, though. Bika made every Super Six fan wonder how Allan Green ever got an invitation to substitute for Jermain Taylor.

Froch and Ward both impressed, yes, but neither was in a fight impressive as Juan Manuel Marquez’s, Saturday. Froch and Ward are excellent champions working towards greatness. But Marquez is a legend.

In round 3 of his championship match with Katsidis, Marquez slipped under a spell of his own offensive arsenal, as he’s wont to do, and got blasted with a left hook while cocking one. Marquez went down almost too hard. The back of his head kissed the canvas. Had the canvas been but two inches higher, not even Marquez would have risen to do what he did.

And that was plant his feet and engage a younger man in a desperate exchange of fire. Just as he had done against a younger man named Juan Diaz in Houston, Marquez made the purist’s calculation: My short straight punches tell more than your looped leveraged ones do. Six rounds later, Katsidis was in need of rescue, and referee Kenny Bayless provided it.

Now we look forward. Sometime in the next six months, Froch will make an entertaining scrap with Glen Johnson. Round that time, Ward will battle the remnants of Arthur Abraham’s pride. Anything could happen. But Froch and Ward have to be the favorites to meet in the finale of the Super Six. And what a spectacle that’ll be.

Now if only we could find an opponent for Juan Manual Marquez . . .

Bart Barry can be reached at bbarry@15rounds.com. Additionally, his book, “The Legend of Muhammad Ali,” co-written with Thomas Hauser, can be purchased here.

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