Victor Burgos remains in critical condition at Harbor UCLA Medical Center because of wounds he suffered two Saturdays ago in his fight with IBF flyweight champion Vic Darchinyan. Burgos’s corner failed him by not stopping the fight in time. That was easy. Blame assigned.
Not so fast. Such an explanation for this tragedy, while symmetrical, ignores the economics of prizefighting. Ours is a sport of free agents – free agents promoting free agents, free agents training free agents, free agents fighting free agents. This economics, then, is too important to ignore.
In Round 2 of his fight with Vic Darchinyan, Victor Burgos went to his knee after a Darchinyan left hook. Suppose that Burgos had remained on his knee for the remainder of Referee John Schorle’s ten count – on the advice of his corner. By that time, after all, the outcome of the match was no longer in doubt.
Anyone who watched the first four minutes of Darchinyan-Burgos – nay, anyone with an audio feed – knew Victor Burgos could not hurt Darchinyan enough to make the champ even raise his hands in defense. Darchinyan may have been 16% larger than Burgos. To stop the fight in the second round and give Darchinyan another KO was the logical choice.
But what then? The Carson crowd would have booed lustily. The television crew would have looked askance at the promoter. And Victor Burgos would have been relegated to six- or eight-round bouts that effectively forced him into retirement.
He would be alive and well at this moment, yes; but Victor Burgos would also be wondering how to support his family for the rest of the year.
Last Thursday, Michael Swann concluded a characteristically insightful column by calling for greater compassion. He is right, of course. But as a prizefighter’s corner is paid out of its charge’s purse, is there any economic incentive for a corner to stop a fight prematurely (as fans define the term)?
It is a cruel question, but a necessary one. Because prizefighting has no greater organizing force than money, the only possible incentive a corner could have for “prematurely” canceling its fighter’s career is compassion. When compassion and capital wage war, though, how often does compassion win?
The blame for the Victor Burgos tragedy needs to be spread widely and thinly. Should the IBF have made Burgos a mandatory challenger? Should promoter Gary Shaw have proposed the fight to Showtime? Should Showtime have approved the fight? Did the California Athletic Commission have no suspicions of non-competitiveness at the Friday weigh-in? Did the ringside doctor act appropriately after the eighth round? Where was Burgos’s corner? Where was Darchinyan’s corner? Why, for that matter, weren’t the arena’s 5,000 fans on their feet chanting “Stop the Fight”?
In other words, everyone is to blame. But if everyone is to blame then no one is to blame. Chances are, that’s the fairest verdict prizefighting can render – and still exist.
That brings us to this Saturday’s pay-per-view event and the unlikely deduction that it should be purchased. Here’s why. When Marco Antonio Barrera defends his WBC super-featherweight title against Juan Manuel Marquez, fans can expect to see two master craftsmen at work – with little chance of either man suffering exceptional damage.
Since his first fight with Erik Morales seven years ago, Marco Antonio Barrera has generally opted to outbox his foes. Most of them have dutifully complied. Morales was able to draw Barrera into a few crazed exchanges in their rematches of 2002 and 2004, Manny Pacquiao was able to blaze directly through Barrera’s defense, and last May Rocky Juarez came as close to upsetting Barrera as anyone has in 50 months; but for the most part, Barrera has consistently outwitted and outmaneuvered – though not outslugged – his recent opponents.
Juan Manuel Marquez, meanwhile, has knocked-out only two of his last six opponents. But he is generally considered the finest boxer in his class. He was felled thrice by Manny Pacquiao in their first round together, but he has outclassed most every opponent for every round since then.
Both Barrera and Marquez hail from Mexico City. Marco Antonio Barrera is perhaps the most obstinately proud fighter of his era. Juan Manuel Marquez is desperate for a win that justifies his supporters’ claims that he is this generation’s most-avoided pugilist.
What will make this fight intriguing and perhaps great, however, are not these factors. Here are two better things to consider. First, Barrera is unlikely to respect Marquez’s power the way he respected Rocky Juarez’s power. Second, Barrera is unlikely to sweep close, uneventful rounds on the judges’ scorecards the way that he did in his rematch with Juarez.
For the first time in years, Marco Antonio Barrera will confront an opponent who is capable of outboxing him. In the case of Juan Manuel Marquez, Barrera will also face an opponent whose power he may not respect. Better put, is Marco Antonio Barrera still willing to slug his way to victory?
Give us a pick then. Great as Marco Antonio Barrera is, as a prizefighter and a sportsman and a thinker, he may now be too accustomed to predictable opponents lacking class and speed enough to imperil him. He has not forgotten how to fight; but it’s been some time since he’s had to. Juan Manuel Marquez is arguably the most complete prizefighter Barrera has faced since Kennedy McKinney.
It almost hurts to write this, but I’ll take Marquez: SD-12.
Whatever the outcome of this fight, it will be a celebration of boxing’s finest points; an exhibition of precision and expertise. As the Golden Boy Promotions machine continues to look past all events before May 5, though, there’s no telling how much of a crowd will occupy MGM Grand this Saturday night.
But this much can be written with certainty. For the next week, serious boxing fans should be counted on to do two things: Keep praying for Victor Burgos, and watch Barrera-Marquez.