By Norm Frauenheim-
It’s historical for the continuum that Vasily Lomachenko and Guillermo Rigondeaux represent. Four gold, two each, at four Olympics over 12 years, from 2000 to 2012, are many years, medals and miles, stretching from Sydney, to Athens, then Beijing and finally London.
That they would meet in New York in The Theater at fabled Madison Square Garden on Dec. 9 almost looks like destiny. It’s not, of course. In boxing, only scars are. Still, their path to a 130-pound, ESPN-televised bout from opposite ends of the globe and very different cultures is a big part of the story.
In one corner, there’s Lomachenko, a Ukrainian whose Baryshnikov-like footwork and many-angled style reminds promoter Bob Arum of Ali, and we’re not talking about Sadam. Then, there’s Rigondeaux, a Cuban whose sad, weathered face is the look of a man who appears to be older than his listed 37and yet he glides across the canvas with the foot-and-hand speed of someone much younger.
“What you’re looking at here are two schools of boxing, Cuban and Eastern European,’’ Arum said this week in a conference call.
But who would ever guessed that the better, more marketable, boxer would have come out of the Euro classroom? Seventeen years ago when Rigondeaux won the first of two golds as an Olympic bantamweight at the Sydney Games, the Cubans were as dominant as they were feared. Rigondeaux, the only fighter still active from the medalists at Sydney, wasn’t even the best Cuban of that time. Heavyweight Felix Savon was. Savon won a third gold medal and had everyone buzzing about how he could be the next Ali if not for a regimented Cuban system.
The thinking then was that Cuba’s amateur boxers could one day transform America’s capitalistic version of the craft the way Cubans have impacted the major league baseball. Thus far, however, the Cuban boxers have only struggled, unlike the emerging fighters from Ukraine, Russia and Kazakhstan.
How come? Best guess is that the collapse of the old Soviet Union forced fighters to re-invent themselves and what they had to do to make a living. It was a lesson in individuality and a realistic understanding of what the prize in prizefighting really means. From Gennady Golovkin to Sergey Kovalev, they learned how to fight for money instead of medals. The cutting edge of that evolution is Lomachenko, whose advertised creativity has begun to capture the imagination of North American fans.
Time is a significant difference. Perhaps, the only one. There’s been a whole new generation of fighters since the collapse of the Berlin Wall in 1989 The robotic fighters of the old Soviet system are gone, supplanted first by Golovkin, then Kovalev and finally Lomachenko, who won gold at featherweight in 2008 and gold at lightweight in 2012. In time, maybe the same thing will happen with the Cubans.
For now, Rigondeaux still seems stuck in the old mindset of eluding punches and landing as many as possible for points. The idea is to limit the risk, impress the judges and protect whatever scorecard advantage there is in the late rounds. It wins, but it doesn’t sell.
Arum believes that the clever Lomachenko’s aggressiveness will not allow Rigondeaux to “pile up points” early, thereby preventing him from “stinking it up” late. Maybe, but be forewarned. Junior-middleweight Erislandy Lara, an old Rigondeaux teammate on the Cuban national team, “stunk it up” on Oct 14 in a unanimous decision over Terrell Gausha at Barclays Center in Brooklyn. It was bad enough for fans to exit the building while Lara circled, circled and circled some more in the closing moments of the main event.
A different Rigondeaux is another possibility. Maybe, he sheds that Cuban mindset with dynamic skillset that seems to be there in the lightning-like hands that always look as if they are capable of adding punishment to the points. That would be a surprise. Then again, the journey to Dec. 9 has been full of surprises.
