Is Eddie Chambers talented enough to be a heavyweight champion? Yes, in this current era he is. Will Chambers someday be a champion? Possibly. Should you hold your breath? No. And if Chambers reads that, I hope it makes him mad. Maybe even a little spiteful.
Acquiring spite is Chambers’ best chance at fulfilling his significant potential.
He may or may not have taken a small step towards such fulfillment Friday night in Los Angeles against former WBC heavyweight champ Samuel Peter. Chambers won a majority decision which, however oddly the judges got there – scores were 95-95, 99-91 and 96-94 – was a perfect verdict for the match.
Of course it’s hard to explain how a fight could be seen by one judge as an even split while viewed as a 9-1 shellacking by another. Never mind that. The term “majority decision” has a quaintly indecisive way about it. And an indecisive judgment is what this fight earned.
I had it 97-93 for Chambers. I gave Peter the first two rounds and the fifth. All the rest went to Chambers. I don’t know that Peter actually won any rounds. But I agree with any scorecard that shows Chambers lost three or four.
Before we move on, we should concede this fight was more entertaining than what WBC champ Vitali Klitschko did to Juan Carlos Gomez the Saturday before. That bout was the latest installment of a reign for which historians should never forgive the Brothers Klitschko. It was also broadcast by ESPN2.
Just like Friday’s bout. Seeing the WBC heavyweight titlist and the man he took his belt from, on ESPN2, in successive weeks says as much about the American economy as any number reported by CNBC. Americans are no longer consuming. Those networks that have large boxing budgets are guarding their money. They’re no longer buyers of the heavyweight product, a diminished brand. Something akin to economic Darwinism is on the loose.
So the heavyweight division finds itself off pay-per-view, off HBO, off Showtime. Bad for the heavyweights, good for boxing. A certain type of sports fan will watch heavyweight championship fights no matter their quality. Even if he goes to work on Monday and lambastes the whole sport, he’ll still be talking about boxing. That’s a start.
Friday’s bout didn’t alienate anyone. Neither guy wore Mike Tyson’s physique in the ring, but then, neither did Larry Holmes. Both guys could have been more active. And had Samuel Peter not looked so dreadful in his only title defense, five months ago, there might have been more suspense.
This fight wasn’t one to drive prospective fans away, but neither was it Chambers’ breakout performance. After looking awfully good for six rounds against an awfully good Russian fighter named Alexander Povetkin 14 months ago, Chambers was at once tantalizing and uninspired Friday.
He showed just about every tool except knockout power – and any professional puncher who weighs more than 200 pounds can take any other man’s consciousness with the right punch. So we won’t sweat that. Chambers also showed quickness, technical proficiency and a good chin. When he was caught with a punch, he got defiant, not soft.
Which brings us to his backward tilt. This isn’t quite the technical no-no it appears to be. It happens from the waist up, and that makes it different.
Send anyone out to spar a first time, and what you’ll see immediately is a tendency to pull his head straight back from punches. Nothing in life prepares you to be struck in the face except being struck in the face. No binary switches in your DNA tell you to move towards an object that rushes at your eyes and nose. That reaction has to be learned.
Typically, an amateur will yank his chin in the air. That is, to escape having his face struck while his head is anchored to his body, a beginner sends his head sailing away – neck elongated, chin high – usually to catastrophic results. That is not what Chambers does.
Instead, “Fast Eddie” tilts his entire upper body backwards. How is tilting-back different from pulling-back? Tilting-back allows Chambers to counter forcefully.
Whereas most amateurs end up doing something like an inverted dog paddle, knuckling and slapping backwards till they hit the ropes, Chambers snaps his upper body forward and delivers a pretty convincing right cross. It may not look like a diagram in the boxing lexicon, but it won’t be what keeps Chambers from dominating this heavyweight division.
No, that distinction belongs to his lack of spite. Chambers is a good kid, and he can’t help it. He has charisma. You can’t find anyone who knows him and doesn’t like him. Trouble is, Chambers fights like a good kid. He fights like he wants to do enough to beat you without hurting your feelings. He’s spite-less.
Spitefulness is a desire to embroider your reputation at another man’s expense. Spitefulness has a petty but thorough quality to it. Spitefulness is mean – in the Victorian sense of the word. Spiteful is Joe Calzaghe doing the hokey-pokey before a frightened Roy Jones. Spiteful is Vic Darchinyan racing at opponents, hands cocked at his waist. Spiteful is dancing the “Ali Shuffle” over a felled opponent.
Chambers may get spiteful someday – after enough unrequited title-eliminator fights, close decision losses or interviews with ESPN2’s Teddy Atlas.
“You’re the reason I don’t train fighters anymore,” Atlas told Chambers after his fight Friday.
Atlas was right to be frustrated. As a trainer and commentator Atlas has been through this too often with too many other talented American heavyweights. Atlas already knows what the rest of us are learning. Without a dose of spite for his opponents, Fast Eddie Chambers will just end up breaking our hearts.
Bart Barry can be reached at bbarry@15rounds.com