Cintron’s right hand, Steward’s mind and Margarito’s will

By Bart Barry

“(Margarito) creates openings, he doesn’t wait for them.” -- Teddy Atlas, April 23, 2005.

The night ESPN’s expert commentator uttered those words, he was ringside for a fight that featured WBO welterweight champion Antonio Margarito and undefeated knockout specialist Kermit Cintron. Although at the time Atlas was making a general statement about Margarito, he could have been articulating the major stylistic difference between the two fighters before him.

Margarito created openings. Cintron waited for them. And Margarito went directly through Cintron.

This weekend will bring a chance to see how much the two men have changed in the last three years. Saturday, in the co-main event of HBO’s “World Championship Boxing,” Margarito and Cintron will have their rematch at Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City, this time for Cintron’s IBF welterweight title.

While the night’s main event -- Miguel Cotto versus Alfonso Gomez for Cotto’s WBA welterweight title -- should prove a stay-busy fight for Cotto, its opening bout will be consequential and intriguing. Margarito-Cintron I, after all, set both men’s professional identities in an enduring way. Margarito is still considered among boxing’s most-feared fighters. And Cintron is still considered a mentally fragile slugger.

Actually, there’s some redundancy in that label, “mentally fragile slugger.” Of prizefighting’s three styles – sluggers, boxers and volume punchers – sluggers are the most mentally fragile. Because they rely on power to alter every detail of opponents’ approaches, and because they’re not accustomed to being struck as hard as they strike, sluggers often fall victim to others’ durability. And once they stop believing in their power, sluggers show their mental fragility somewhat openly.

Such was the case for Cintron, three Aprils ago. Boasting a 24-0 record, and 22 knockouts along the way, Cintron was unaccustomed to an opponent who walked into his power and remained upright. But that’s what Margarito did. Sometime after he saw his own blood, Cintron changed his mind about the fight. A few minutes later, he’d made four visits to the blue mat and cast a frightened glance at his corner. Cintron’s trainer hopped on the apron, and the fight was stopped.

Soon enough, Manny Steward, one of prizefighting’s best trainers and psychologists, was brought in to work with Cintron. It was going well, too. Before his last fight, Cintron was 4-0 (4 KOs) since losing to Margarito. He was tearing through opponents as the IBF champ. Then he came to Jesse Feliciano in November.

Feliciano was a journeyman volume puncher who’d won but 15 of his first 23 fights. He was someone Cintron would demolish. But Feliciano was also a mentally durable guy who pressured Cintron by closing distance. Cintron was bemused by Feliciano. He stopped leading and began waiting for space to become available and opportunities to present themselves. Though Cintron escaped with a 10th-round stoppage, it was an unconvincing victory.

A bizarre scene followed. When Feliciano couldn’t continue, Cintron dropped to the canvas and began writhing violently. He looked like a person tormented by a seizure or broken back. Later we’d learn Cintron had torn a ligament in his right hand, in the first round, and had fought on for nine more -- through hysteria-inducing pain. Putting aside mechanical questions about how anything in a wrapped, taped and gloved hand could be “torn,” one had to wonder at Cintron’s mental durability.

Days later, boxing writer Steve Kim, our sport’s quickest wit, reviewed Cintron’s performance and quipped, “If Cintron and Margarito fought 10 times, Margarito would win 15 of them.”

That spoke to Margarito’s toughness as much as Cintron’s fragility. Few fighters spar harder or more often than Margarito. While the long-term effects of so much contact are debatable, the short-term effects are not. Margarito is ready to impose himself every time he sets foot in a boxing ring. He is relentless, battle-proven and mentally durable.

He is also prone to slow starts in big fights. In July, Margarito lost his title to Paul Williams -- by giving away the first five rounds. Repeatedly since then, Margarito has said starting quicker is his highest priority. In November, he certainly started (and finished) quicker, knocking-out Golden Johnson in Round 1.

Margarito is not known for struggling to make weight, despite his large frame. His tendency to appear sluggish in opening rounds might be attributable to over-training. It is possible all those rounds Margarito spars are in fact too many rounds. Or starting slowly might just be the way he’s comfortable building momentum in a fight.

Whatever the explanation, Cintron needs Margarito to start slowly on Saturday. This fight, in many ways, will be a battle of Cintron’s right hand and Steward’s mind against Margarito’s will. If Cintron is able to begin well, throwing the jab-hook-cross combination he favors, he might be able to keep Margarito off him. And in doing so, he’ll give Steward material for pep talks between rounds:

“This guy can’t box with you, he can’t punch with you, and now that he’s tasted your power, he doesn’t want to come after you.”

But it’s doubtful that will be the case. The look Cintron exchanged with his corner, three years ago, must have been the last of many such looks he gave Margarito in their first match. The broken spirit Margarito saw behind Cintron’s eyes -- the search for which is a prizefighter’s top priority -- could not easily be forgotten by Margarito. However well Cintron starts, it will not convince Margarito that Cintron is a new man.

At some point, Margarito will walk through Cintron’s power and throw his favorite combination -- overhand right, left uppercut/hook -- a combination whose efficacy is confirmed only by Margarito’s faith in it. Steward will then have to work his magic. There’s a good chance he can guide Cintron to the final bell, but less chance he can guide him to victory.

I’ll take Margarito: UD-12.