Castillo's Loss

By Bart Barry

This one hurt more than others. When Jose Luis Castillo again failed to make 135 pounds last Friday, canceling his match with Diego Corrales, the sport of boxing did more than feel pain. It suffered injury. Our sport’s value is lower today than it was last Friday morning. And perhaps the best way to measure Castillo’s failure is to follow his promoter, Bob Arum, through last week’s happenings.

Mr. Arum’s week ended at a press conference, as planned. But rather than celebrate the end of a great trilogy, this press conference heard Bob Arum say things such as: “I’m embarrassed by this,” “I was lied to,” and “I was absolutely beside myself.” Those who’d watched Mr. Arum smile and talk and laugh, days earlier in Arizona, barely recognized the disgusted man who faced reporters by week’s end in Nevada.

Before there could be joy in Phoenix or shame in Las Vegas, however, there was a Tuesday afternoon conference call on May 23. Hosted by Showtime Championship Boxing, the call was to promote Castillo-Corrales III, but became a test of patience for all involved. Most every question began and ended with Jose Luis Castillo’s weight. It was tiresome for Castillo, Bob Arum, and those of us who sighed at our muted handsets.

Then, to stop reporters’ badgering of his fighter, Bob Arum vouched for Castillo, saying, “But there has not been any time that he has had any problem at all making the weight . . . It [Castillo’s failure to make weight in Castillo-Corrales II] is a complete aberration in his career.”

Eight days later, Bob Arum was in American Legion Post 41, in downtown Phoenix, to honor Michael Carbajal. His appearance had nothing to do with the Las Vegas superfight he would promote three days later. In fact, through ten minutes of speaking, Mr. Arum never mentioned Jose Luis Castillo and Diego Corrales. He spoke sincerely and eloquently about Michael Carbajal – with a few detours to treat Roberto Duran, Carbajal’s guest of honor.

The Phoenix gathering celebrated a prizefighter who’d begun his career in an insignificant role, as a junior-flyweight, but had managed to grow a thriving ecosystem in his city: politicians, timekeepers, bartenders, promoters, lawyers, t-shirt vendors, ringside judges, doctors, writers, restaurateurs, photographers, and mariachis were all in attendance to say their lives were better because of Michael Carbajal.

And while this Phoenix event was winding down, Jose Luis Castillo was in Las Vegas, realizing, or already knowing, there was no chance he could weigh 135 pounds by Friday afternoon. Because the alchemy of weight loss confounds most of us, Mr. Castillo’s inability to starve his body below its limit can be forgiven. But that Jose Luis Castillo allowed an entire city to dedicate itself to his promotion, changing its routines and lives to accommodate his performance, without once mentioning the possibility he might fail to perform – that is unforgivable.

At his Wednesday speech about Michael Carbajal, Bob Arum spoke with greatest amazement about the million dollars he’d helped Michael Carbajal make in Carbajal’s rematch with Humberto “Chiquita” Gonzales, in 1994. On other occasions Mr. Arum has told this same story, always beginning it with a question: “A hundred-and-eight pound fighter making a million dollars, who would have thought?”

By the end of last week, Bob Arum estimated his loss from Jose Luis Castillo’s thoughtlessness at that same amount: $1,000,000.00. “Good promotion is about taking risks,” said Mr. Arum last Wednesday night. But when compared to the risk of offering a junior-flyweight a five-year contract, how risky did Bob Arum, or boxing, think promoting Castillo-Corrales III could be?

Then there was Mr. Arum’s recollection of his favorite Carbajal punch: “The best punch Michael Carbajal threw in his career was a right hand that knocked out Jorge Arce.” That was also the last punch Michael Carbajal threw in his career. And Bob Arum was quick to explain how special this made Carbajal; in a sport whose participants regularly overstay their abilities, Michael Carbajal had ended his career with the best punch he ever threw – against a hell of a fighter.

Meanwhile, there is some doubt how Mr. Arum, or anyone, will remember Jose Luis Castillo’s best punch. Probably, it was the left hook with which Castillo knocked out Diego Corrales in their second fight. But that left hook, though elegant in its balance and precision, was a blow landed by an unfairly larger man, and will forever get doubtful looks from posterity.

Finally, Mr. Arum ended his commemoration of Michael Carbajal’s Hall of Fame career by visiting Carbajal’s probable legacy: “There are three parts. Number one is Michael’s career; what a courageous fighter he was. Number two, Michael Carbajal was a pioneer, a pathfinder, for Hispanic fighters. A primer for guys like Morales, Barrera, Castillo, and Oscar de la Hoya. And number three, Michael proved it’s not size that matters.”

After what happened last Friday afternoon, though, how will Bob Arum and boxing remember Jose Luis Castillo? Legacy is a tricky thing, and boxing historians are a fickle bunch. So it’s possible that Castillo’s legacy may someday read: “The longtime Julio Cesar Chavez sparring partner who lost a couple of fights to Floyd Mayweather and a war to Diego Corrales.”

But while Bob Arum may never affectionately recall Jose Luis Castillo’s career the way he recalls Michael Carbajal’s, it may not yet be too late for Mr. Castillo to redeem himself and help fans partially forget the anger and disappointment they now feel. Such a redemption would require a monstrous trial, however. And so, let’s end with a suggestion:

Jose Luis Castillo was barely a junior-welterweight, last Friday, and by now he’s a welterweight. Bob Arum is furious with Jose Luis Castillo. And Antonio Margarito still needs an opponent for July or August. What about matching Castillo with Margarito, next month, and promoting it as “Arum’s Revenge”?