The prizefighter formerly known as “Boxing’s Most Feared” has a problem with misfortune. Paul Williams, in his mind and his handlers’, has been a victim of bad luck. Williams’ trainer, George Peterson, sees no reason to make changes, Williams seems unsure if he’s ever technically lost, and Dan Goosen, who receives a promoter’s fee from Williams, says Miguel Cotto is a redemptive tale for Williams because Cotto just signed a big contract for a fight he will almost certainly lose.
With friends like these, Williams returns to battle, Saturday, against Japan’s Nobuhiro Ishida at American Bank Center in Corpus Christi, Tex. Williams will be joined by IBF light heavyweight titlist Tavoris “Thunder” Cloud, in a match with Spain’s Gabriel “Chico Guapo” Campillo, and California heavyweight Chris (Chico Menos Guapo) Arreola. Showtime “Championship Boxing,” a program whose name deserves quotation marks round it this time, will broadcast the action on a couple of its channels and in Spanish, too.
The card is called “Triple Threat,” which is fitting; it is exactly what Williams’ career now faces. Having lost by 2010 Knockout of the Year to Sergio Martinez, and having won by 2011 Robbery of the Year against Erislandy Lara, Williams is in danger of making the sort of triple performance that would take him off premium cable in the future.
Is this just? Technically. Were he not going to make a rubber match with Martinez, one might argue, and many did, Williams did not deserve a rehabilitation match on HBO in July. HBO’s commentators caught this drift and effectively retired Williams in the final third of his match with Lara. That the judges’ decision went to Williams mattered little to anyone. Other events were unfolding.
Back to those in a bit. First, there is Williams’ ongoing implication that he is a victim of misfortune. This sets up a tricky conundrum for Williams. If luck was all it took for the southpaw Martinez to land an overhand left on Williams, one that cut Williams’ lights long before he landed facefirst on an Atlantic City canvas, luck is probably what got Williams his breakout decision over Antonio Margarito in 2007, his blowout rematch victory with Carlos Quintana in 2008, and his bizarre victory over Kermit Cintron in . . . OK, let’s not get carried away; luck may have had nothing to do with Cintron tossing himself out that California ring in 2010.
Luck is a poor choice of culprit for a prizefighter. It exists, sure, but it behooves no one to enter his training camp citing it. And not even luck can explain Williams’ collecting so many left hands from the southpaw Lara that observers had genuine concerns for his health in the championship rounds. Williams has no defense for fellow southpaws’ left hands, we now know – even if no one in Williams’ camp does.
But about those other unfolding events. Williams has lost favor in a way disproportionate to his performances. Never particularly popular – as a polite black man from Georgia, apparently, he offended multiple ethnic sensibilities – Williams nevertheless took a righteous path to his welterweight title by outworking Margarito and being ballsier than him in their 12th round. He then avenged a decision loss to Quintana, beat down Verno Phillips, decisioned Winky Wright and made a wonderful first match with Martinez.
But a curious thing went against Williams, very much the way it went against Juan Diaz three months or so before. Diaz, you’ll remember, made a close 2009 match with Paulie Malignaggi in Diaz’s native Houston. The decision could have gone either way, but Texas judge Gale Van Hoy gave the match to the hometown kid by a ridiculous margin, 118-110. So folks turned on Diaz.
Williams-Martinez I could have gone either way, too. But New Jersey judge Pierre Benoist favored Williams by an inexplicable 119-110 margin. And folks began to turn on Williams. Five months later, Martinez won the lineal middleweight title from Kelly Pavlik. A month after that, Williams watched in disbelief as Cintron dove through the ropes and exited their match on a stretcher, punching an ambulance door. When Williams and Martinez made their rematch in November 2010, Martinez was the prizefighter folks wanted to cheer, and Martinez gave them every reason to.
Another curious thing worked against Williams. Al Haymon, boxing’s quietest mastermind and Williams’ advisor, became a target of aficionados’ ire. Haymon, the narrative went, was chief among the reasons HBO Sports lost its way. Some of this was rival Bob Arum’s lusty spinning, and some of it was true.
Everyone h’d had enough of the Haymon-influenced regime at HBO Sports by the time Williams made his 2011 fight with Lara. When Williams spent most of the second half of that fight being abused by Lara, only to see his hand raised by majority-decision scores, Williams won the very ire aficionados had been saving for his advisor, ire that only grew when the New Jersey State Athletic Control Board – the very same group that took no umbrage with Pierre Benoist – suspended the three Williams-Lara judges.
Maybe there is something to be said for Williams’ finding a culprit in bad luck.
Ultimately, though, Williams has never stopped being in the ring what he always was: a freakishly large, volume-punching southpaw who makes entertaining matches against even difficult opponents. Outside the ring, his demeanor has turned a bit surly, but that surliness is honestly acquired. He likely feels wronged but has no idea by whom.
I’ll be in Corpus Christi, Saturday, for a couple reasons. First, Texas is my beat, and Art Museum of South Texas shares a parking lot with American Bank Center. Second, and more importantly, I do not want to think of myself as someone who wrongs Paul Williams. Boxing would be a better place if it were populated by more guys like Williams, and it will be an honor to cover him.
Bart Barry can be reached at bart.barrys.email (at) gmail.com
