Can Eastman Stay the Executioner?

EXXECUTION DAY POSTER Click for larger image

When Howard Eastman addressed the media in the presence of Bernard Hopkins, stating that Hopkins is not the world’s best fighter, he did nothing to assuage suspicions that he was being disrespectful; however, Eastman guaranteed that the Hopkins he faces in Los Angeles on February 19 would be the best Hopkins imaginable. Eastman cites himself as a boxing historian, someone who feels the essence of the sport, knowing

true greatness when he sees it, and not seeing it in Hopkins. It is a fight that centers, very much like the entirety of Hopkins’ career in these times, on the theme of history. But Eastman does not intend to offer himself as a statistic, a twentieth successive challenger repelled while Hopkins dreams of greater deeds to add to his legacy. Eastman feels the touch of history too, and he has come to consign Bernard Hopkins to history a great deal sooner than the Philadelphian champion wishes.

Many boxing fans less consumed with Hopkins’ historical musings confer with Eastman’s questioning of the champion’s legitimacy. It should at least be contemplated whether the rate of Hopkins’ ascendancy coincided fortunately with the demise of Roy Jones Jr., who for so many years represented the bane of Hopkins’ reckoning in the eyes of the boxing world. Upon eviscerating the fabric of Hopkins’ achievements, perhaps it is just to surmise that he is the best by default, benefiting from the misfortune of some and the inactivity of others. However, since at least two of those principal claimants to the pound-for-pound throne, Felix Trinidad and Oscar de la Hoya found their end at Hopkins’ hands, we have to dig deeper to find fault in Hopkins’ case.

Over time, we become negligent about boxing’s history, forgetful of the many details that often weigh heavily in the composition of each fight. We refer to Hopkins as this generation’s Marvelous Marvin Hagler, and of course, the two share some distinctions. Herein lays a cause for argument against both men. While we laud Hagler for his dominance, a trait replicated by Hopkins, we negate to remember certain bothersome facts that surface upon reexamination. Synonymous in both careers is the fortress they built in the middleweight division, one they defended against great fighters who, despite their quality, enjoyed finer form in lower weight classes.

Hagler entertained the challenge of “Sugar” Ray Leonard in not only Leonard’s first fight at the weight, but also his first since returning from retirement. Hagler lost of course, but when Hopkins faced the audacious challenge of De la Hoya, he at least soundly defeated the smaller man. Hagler and Hopkins also faced similarly devastating punchers in Thomas Hearns and Tito Trinidad respectively; fighters who also saw better days at lower weights, but Hagler deserves credit here for disposing of Hearns in explosive style. Hopkins lacks that same offensive fire and we level such criticisms at him with some justification. Hopkins has never blown away a quality fighter the way that Hagler did on that unforgettable night at Caesar’s Palace. Furthermore, Hopkins can claim to have tallied more middleweight title defenses, but he cannot claim to have beaten quality opposition on a consistent basis the way that Hagler can. The one great fighter Hopkins faced at a mutually natural weight was in fact Roy Jones Jr., and Hopkins lost that fight, as uninspiring and bereft of risk as it was.

For me, Hopkins’ strengths are his style and his determination, his willingness to sacrifice any of the indulgences and distractions that follow a fighter of his position.However, that same immovable will applied to his business acumen has done great damage to his image. Seldom throughout his career has Hopkins taken risks, in the ring or out of it; he has shown the same selfishness that is so apparent now as we reassess Jones, just as we would to Hopkins if he were no longer winning. Bernard Hopkins is a man who for many years remained on the cusp of recognition, only acquiring it at the last in Don King’s middleweight tournament. Hopkins labored for an eternity to dispose of Morrade Hakkar, a fighter begging to be knocked out and fought so negatively against Robert Allen, a fighter he had dealt with on two previous occasions.

Of course, Hopkins has always ground his opponents down, but for a man who claims the position of the world’s greatest fighter, we expect the spectacular, the incredible, the standard by which all other fighters will measure themselves. If a fighter is only as good as his last fight, Hopkins is just OK, still applying the business sense, measuring the threat and not daring to dig any deeper than is necessary. Now he must transcend the norm, reach into those intangible depths and produce a performance of breathtaking quality; and he must do it against one of the best middleweights in the world.

Knowing the ease with which Eastman handled William Joppy, and the fact that Joppy was never quite the same after the beating Eastman inflicted upon him, it is not inconceivable to imagine Hopkins struggling, perhaps even faltering against Eastman, a Guyanese-born, British-based middleweight who may only need to conquer his own eccentricities to give Hopkins the fight of his life. Giving no reason, Hopkins decided to defend only his WBC title against Eastman, a sign of the champion measuring his threat once again and to many, an obvious indication of Hopkins sensing extreme danger. The American media have already dismissed Eastman’s chances, but Hopkins, fortunately for the preservation of his championship reign, does not languish in such complacency. On February 19 at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, history will be made; but will it be the end of one legacy as another begins?

Jim Cawkwell can be reached at jimcawkwell@yahoo.co.uk