The second event I covered was a Top Rank card on May 6, 2005 at Fort McDowell Casino in Fountain Hills, Ariz. Televised on “Solo Boxeo,” the marquee comprised Mexican prospects like Giovanni Segura, Mike Alvarado, Jesus Soto Karass and Jesus Gonzales. But that night no one stood out like Urbano Antillon.
I miss “Solo Boxeo.” I miss Urbano Antillon.
An easily hit facsimile of Antillon was in action Saturday on Fox Sports Español. He stopped a fellow Mexican named Luis Arceo who’d lost eight of his preceding 11 fights. The match goes on the books “TKO-3” for Antillon. That’s a very happy rendition of what actually happened, though.
Referee Juan Jose Ramirez called the fight off, on doctor’s orders, 2:25 into the third round. Could Arceo have continued? Sure. He had an ugly gash on his left eyebrow, but had the same gash happened over Antillon’s brow, the fight wouldn’t have stopped. The nature of the entire televised card was one of over-protectiveness. Who was protected? That’s the question. Every time the favorite got his man in trouble, the referee’s intervention came quick. Records got preserved.
Did the cut over Arceo’s brow come from a punch? That’s another question. Arceo’s trainer said to the referee, “Juan, it’s a ‘t’.” And the cut did have the sort of ‘t’ shape that rarely comes from a gloved fist and more often from a man’s head. Replays were inconclusive because there weren’t any.
Had the cut been ruled the result of a butt, and had the fight lasted another round, it likely would have been a draw on my card. I gave the first to Arceo. I had the second even. The third was trending Antillon. Don’t know what would have happened after that. Point is, Antillon (27-1) and Arceo (22-10-2) were a lot more even than their records.
This was supposed to be a rehab fight for Antillon, who was stopped in his last match by Miguel Acosta, a Venezuelan whose previous exploits did not anticipate a round 9 knockout victory over Antillon. Arceo was put there to be hit by Antillon. Trouble was, Antillon’s chin was available like he held a “Vacancy” sign between his gloves.
Where was the guy who boxed confidently, occasionally slipped punches and dropped a smooth left hook on the liver? Abandoned in the corner of some Southern California gym, I’m guessing.
The So-Cal gym scene is a delight to aficionados and visiting trainers. It’s a great place to get sparring for a champion who readies for a title defense. It’s where hungry young guys hone their craft, prove their toughness and impress fellow gym rats – then wear themselves into injury-prone strongmen with diminished coordination and a reflexive appetite for abuse.
The more a young Mexican demonstrates he has a strong chin, the more he gets to use it. That’s the trouble with reflexivity. At the same time he uses his strong chin to take a more direct route to his opponents, forsaking head movement and punch parrying, he also sustains the sorts of blows that slow the signals passed from brain to body. Soon enough, he’s brazen about getting hit and begins down a path that ends the same way for everyone who takes it – with an opponent whose punch he cannot withstand.
Urbano Antillon’s defense of a left hook, Saturday, was to throw his own left hook. His defense for a right hand, it seemed, was to eat the punch then throw another left hook. That sort of thing can be inevitable when you find yourself across the ring from an equal. But if Luis Arceo is now Antillon’s equal, Antillon’s last five years have been awfully damning.
That’s a real possibility. Antillon made his first noteworthy gym war in 2004 with Edwin Valero. Yes, that Valero. The Venezuelan got the better of Antillon. Not as much better as some have come to remember it, but better enough. Since then, Antillon has been on an atonement tour.
He made another gym war with Juan Manuel Marquez in 2007. Just last year, he was the toughest sparring Manny Pacquiao found while readying for Ricky Hatton – and much tougher on Pacman, as it turned out, than Hatton was. When you make hellish battles with Marquez and Pacquiao, though, aren’t you supposed to make lots of money?
The fights Antillon has been paid for include wearying brawls, too. There was an Olympic Auditorium scrap with Ivan “El Relampago” Valle in only Antillon’s 10th fight. Then came a 10-round battle of attrition with Fernando “El Pillo” Trejo right after Trejo stopped Jose Armando Santa Cruz. Antillon won both and gained experience. He gained experience in hard sparring with world champions as well. But at some point, Antillon’s valuable experiences became counterproductive proofs of machismo.
Saturday, Antillon seemed too deliberate. Nothing happened with the ease it used to. Some of that might be attributable to Arceo having a good opening round; Arceo does, after all, have 22 victories on his resume. But Antillon also seemed graceless. He was trying much harder and accomplishing less. That’s the troubling trait of a guy who’s been fighting either too often or too much. That’s a troubling trait to have at age 27 with nary a title fight on your record.
It’s time for Antillon to stop proving his toughness and start preserving himself. Next time some junior welterweight champion calls for sparring, Urbano needn’t answer the phone. He needn’t prove himself against hungry young prospects who remind him of his 2005 vintage either. He should work on defense with sparring partners who don’t take his hard counterpunches personally.
There’s little room for hope; Antillon appears to have lost too much already. But we’re loath to end things on a down note. So, there’s news that Antillon has a refreshed outlook on life with new trainer Abel Sanchez!
Still down? Well, how about the rumor that “Solo Boxeo” might come back . . .
Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter.com/bartbarry