Just KC
09-30-2006, 05:42 AM
Arturo ''Thunder'' Gatti vs ''Irish'' Mickey Ward ''A Clash of True Titans''
Arturo Gatti / Mickey Ward 1 Fight Video (http://www.pwsforums.com/showthread.php?p=645457#post645457)
Every now and then, sports fans are treated to an event that is truly special. More often than not, these battles of wills are unexpected surprises. We tune in or show up for what we hope will be an entertaining contest, and are fortunate enough to witness an extraordinary competition. The circumstances for greatness to result need to be just right, and it is not easy to predict when the precise combination of factors will occur. This does not prevent promoters and advertisers from constantly claiming that some upcoming game, or match, or series will be a "must see" exhibition of talent and determination. Oftentimes two teams or individuals are matched up against one another with much at stake, and it seems that their meeting is predetermined to be memorable, if not outright magical. Yet when the time comes for their paths to cross, the end result is often much more one-sided than had been expected. It turns out that despite how evenly matched they initially appeared to be, superior talent, strategy, and desire for victory did in fact belong to one party at the expense of the other. What had been billed to be an epic battle of the ages turns out to be just another ordinary meeting, a game or match or series to be forgotten soon after it ends.
On the most rare of occasions however, we are gifted with exactly what was advertised, and then some. After all the hyperbole is proclaimed, the participants go after one another with as much fervor as we had hoped to see, and we walk away with a memory of the majesty of human willpower that will not be soon forgotten. Such was the case on May 18 when "Irish" Micky Ward stepped into the ring to wage war against Arturo "Thunder" Gatti. Both boxers entered with a reputation for being tough as nails, the type of fighters who were more than willing to exchange punches, to take as good as they gave in order to wear down their opponents. Neither of them was expected to run, or clinch, or foul in order to escape the torrent of punches sure to be coming from the other, because neither of them had ever resorted to such tactics before. They would surely stand toe to toe and keep on punching until one of them went down for good, or the bell sounded to end the final round. This is what the promoters and advertisers promised. This is what the experts and critics predicted. And in the end, this is precisely what the public got. Not a single soul walked away from this boxing match feeling that they had not been given their money’s worth. It was Hagler versus Hearns revisited, arguably even better than what has been considered for years by pugilism fanatics to be the greatest fight of all time, because Ward-Gatti provided a full ten rounds of non-stop action instead of just three.
As the fight unfolded, I could not help feeling as if I was watching a scene that had been scripted. It seemed so much like a movie, so absolutely Hollywood. It was natural to imagine Sylvester Stallone inventing these characters, choreographing the ebb and flow of every round. Gatti would use his superior hand speed and body movement to sting Ward with one flurry of blows after another. Instead of backing away from the impressive number and accuracy of the punches, Ward would continue to stalk forward as if impervious to pain. Gatti would unload a fierce barrage of power shots that would rock Ward as if he were one of those bobble head dolls to be found in the back window of cars. Ward would take every shot like the manliest of men, pound his chest go get himself going, and stalk onward. Gatti would take a well deserved break for just a second or two to rest up from the torrent of punches he had thrown. Ward would seize immediate advantage, rising up almost as if from the dead to throw his own series of bombs. The tide would continue to shift from minute to minute throughout the entire fight. Every time it looked like Gatti was about to finish Ward off, the bulletproof Irishman would shrug off his daze and go on his own furious offensive. Every time it looked as if Ward’s Rocky-like advancement would be too much for Gatti to stave off, the resilient Italian stallion would be back on his toes, peppering Ward with punches that appeared to come from every direction at once.
As an impartial observer, it became impossible to root for one man over the other. Gatti would dazzle with his skill, Ward would astound with his grit, and then the next thing you knew, their roles would be reversed. Both of them gave all they had to give and took all that the other man had to offer. They probably respected each other fully coming into the fight, but if not, they most certainly did once it was over. Towards the end of the night they were both staggering around the ring like drunks. In the closing rounds, if either of them had chosen to quit, I would have lost not one ounce of respect for him. Both men had put the other through hell. It seemed only natural that one of them would succumb, but as for which one, the most likely candidate kept switching back and forth with the momentum of the fight. When all was said and done, both fighters made it to the final bell, leaving the outcome in that most precarious of locations, the hands of the judges.
I was surprised to find myself actually rooting for a draw. Like most fight fans, I usually prefer that a match ends with clear resolution. A knockout is the preferred conclusion, because there is nothing vague or questionable about it. Boxing judges are notorious for seeing fights in a manner that is contrary to the eyes of just about everyone else who saw them. On this incredible night where the sweet science was exhibited to the satisfaction of its most devoutly ardent fans, temporarily silencing the valid criticism of those who long to abolish or at least severely reform the sport, neither man seemed to deserve a loss for his gargantuan effort. I had a rather selfish effort for wanting the fight to be ruled a draw as well. This would just about guarantee a rematch. I cannot imagine a fight I would rather see in the future than Arturo Gatti versus Micky Ward one more time. Before the first punches of the night were thrown, I had been greatly looking forward to the fight, but not with nearly as much anticipation as I held for the upcoming Lewis-Tyson bout. I am still very excited about that clash of British gentleman versus American madman, but common sense tells me not to expect anything close to the thrills elicited by Ward and Gatti.
For those who do not already know, the decision was given to Micky Ward. I was slightly surprised by this, because due to his greater punch output, I thought that if one of them had to be chosen winner over the other, Gatti would be given the benefit of the doubt. But I was not crying robbery over the call, because a strong argument could certainly be made on behalf of either man, and it was Ward who had most astounded me with his ability to take a licking and keep on ticking. Plus it was Ward who recorded the only knockdown of the night. When he floored Gatti with a punch to the midsection in the ninth round, I was absolutely certain that Micky was about to close the show. Boxers often recover strongly after being put down from a punch to the head, but when a body blow is the culprit, this usually spells certain doom. I expected Micky Ward to spend the remainder of the round teeing off on Gatti’s ribs until he crumbled like a deck of cards. Instead, Ward went back to head hunting. Perhaps he felt this was the more honorable manner in which to dispatch of his worthy opponent. He just about finished Gatti off, but somehow Arturo remained on his feet, and then once again, Arturo Gatti somehow turned the momentum of the fight back in his favor. As amazed as I was by yet another swing in direction, by this point I could no longer be surprised by either man’s resilience. This was not Rocky Balboa versus Opollo Creed, but something even more cinematic and fantastic. It was Rocky versus Rocky.
Arturo Gatti and Mickey ward would be meet to more times with Gatti winning both fight putting and End to their epic trilogy.
__________________________________________________ __________________________________________
This fight just amazed me. for 2 men to go into that ring and give their heart and soul like that for their fans is just beyong me. This is truly my favorite fight ever and i have tremendous respect for both warroiors now.
Your thoughts? ya i know it was a very long read but if you did have the time to read it all thank you very much but seriously i dont expect you to read it all lol.
Arturo Gatti / Mickey Ward 1 Fight Video (http://www.pwsforums.com/showthread.php?p=645457#post645457)
Every now and then, sports fans are treated to an event that is truly special. More often than not, these battles of wills are unexpected surprises. We tune in or show up for what we hope will be an entertaining contest, and are fortunate enough to witness an extraordinary competition. The circumstances for greatness to result need to be just right, and it is not easy to predict when the precise combination of factors will occur. This does not prevent promoters and advertisers from constantly claiming that some upcoming game, or match, or series will be a "must see" exhibition of talent and determination. Oftentimes two teams or individuals are matched up against one another with much at stake, and it seems that their meeting is predetermined to be memorable, if not outright magical. Yet when the time comes for their paths to cross, the end result is often much more one-sided than had been expected. It turns out that despite how evenly matched they initially appeared to be, superior talent, strategy, and desire for victory did in fact belong to one party at the expense of the other. What had been billed to be an epic battle of the ages turns out to be just another ordinary meeting, a game or match or series to be forgotten soon after it ends.
On the most rare of occasions however, we are gifted with exactly what was advertised, and then some. After all the hyperbole is proclaimed, the participants go after one another with as much fervor as we had hoped to see, and we walk away with a memory of the majesty of human willpower that will not be soon forgotten. Such was the case on May 18 when "Irish" Micky Ward stepped into the ring to wage war against Arturo "Thunder" Gatti. Both boxers entered with a reputation for being tough as nails, the type of fighters who were more than willing to exchange punches, to take as good as they gave in order to wear down their opponents. Neither of them was expected to run, or clinch, or foul in order to escape the torrent of punches sure to be coming from the other, because neither of them had ever resorted to such tactics before. They would surely stand toe to toe and keep on punching until one of them went down for good, or the bell sounded to end the final round. This is what the promoters and advertisers promised. This is what the experts and critics predicted. And in the end, this is precisely what the public got. Not a single soul walked away from this boxing match feeling that they had not been given their money’s worth. It was Hagler versus Hearns revisited, arguably even better than what has been considered for years by pugilism fanatics to be the greatest fight of all time, because Ward-Gatti provided a full ten rounds of non-stop action instead of just three.
As the fight unfolded, I could not help feeling as if I was watching a scene that had been scripted. It seemed so much like a movie, so absolutely Hollywood. It was natural to imagine Sylvester Stallone inventing these characters, choreographing the ebb and flow of every round. Gatti would use his superior hand speed and body movement to sting Ward with one flurry of blows after another. Instead of backing away from the impressive number and accuracy of the punches, Ward would continue to stalk forward as if impervious to pain. Gatti would unload a fierce barrage of power shots that would rock Ward as if he were one of those bobble head dolls to be found in the back window of cars. Ward would take every shot like the manliest of men, pound his chest go get himself going, and stalk onward. Gatti would take a well deserved break for just a second or two to rest up from the torrent of punches he had thrown. Ward would seize immediate advantage, rising up almost as if from the dead to throw his own series of bombs. The tide would continue to shift from minute to minute throughout the entire fight. Every time it looked like Gatti was about to finish Ward off, the bulletproof Irishman would shrug off his daze and go on his own furious offensive. Every time it looked as if Ward’s Rocky-like advancement would be too much for Gatti to stave off, the resilient Italian stallion would be back on his toes, peppering Ward with punches that appeared to come from every direction at once.
As an impartial observer, it became impossible to root for one man over the other. Gatti would dazzle with his skill, Ward would astound with his grit, and then the next thing you knew, their roles would be reversed. Both of them gave all they had to give and took all that the other man had to offer. They probably respected each other fully coming into the fight, but if not, they most certainly did once it was over. Towards the end of the night they were both staggering around the ring like drunks. In the closing rounds, if either of them had chosen to quit, I would have lost not one ounce of respect for him. Both men had put the other through hell. It seemed only natural that one of them would succumb, but as for which one, the most likely candidate kept switching back and forth with the momentum of the fight. When all was said and done, both fighters made it to the final bell, leaving the outcome in that most precarious of locations, the hands of the judges.
I was surprised to find myself actually rooting for a draw. Like most fight fans, I usually prefer that a match ends with clear resolution. A knockout is the preferred conclusion, because there is nothing vague or questionable about it. Boxing judges are notorious for seeing fights in a manner that is contrary to the eyes of just about everyone else who saw them. On this incredible night where the sweet science was exhibited to the satisfaction of its most devoutly ardent fans, temporarily silencing the valid criticism of those who long to abolish or at least severely reform the sport, neither man seemed to deserve a loss for his gargantuan effort. I had a rather selfish effort for wanting the fight to be ruled a draw as well. This would just about guarantee a rematch. I cannot imagine a fight I would rather see in the future than Arturo Gatti versus Micky Ward one more time. Before the first punches of the night were thrown, I had been greatly looking forward to the fight, but not with nearly as much anticipation as I held for the upcoming Lewis-Tyson bout. I am still very excited about that clash of British gentleman versus American madman, but common sense tells me not to expect anything close to the thrills elicited by Ward and Gatti.
For those who do not already know, the decision was given to Micky Ward. I was slightly surprised by this, because due to his greater punch output, I thought that if one of them had to be chosen winner over the other, Gatti would be given the benefit of the doubt. But I was not crying robbery over the call, because a strong argument could certainly be made on behalf of either man, and it was Ward who had most astounded me with his ability to take a licking and keep on ticking. Plus it was Ward who recorded the only knockdown of the night. When he floored Gatti with a punch to the midsection in the ninth round, I was absolutely certain that Micky was about to close the show. Boxers often recover strongly after being put down from a punch to the head, but when a body blow is the culprit, this usually spells certain doom. I expected Micky Ward to spend the remainder of the round teeing off on Gatti’s ribs until he crumbled like a deck of cards. Instead, Ward went back to head hunting. Perhaps he felt this was the more honorable manner in which to dispatch of his worthy opponent. He just about finished Gatti off, but somehow Arturo remained on his feet, and then once again, Arturo Gatti somehow turned the momentum of the fight back in his favor. As amazed as I was by yet another swing in direction, by this point I could no longer be surprised by either man’s resilience. This was not Rocky Balboa versus Opollo Creed, but something even more cinematic and fantastic. It was Rocky versus Rocky.
Arturo Gatti and Mickey ward would be meet to more times with Gatti winning both fight putting and End to their epic trilogy.
__________________________________________________ __________________________________________
This fight just amazed me. for 2 men to go into that ring and give their heart and soul like that for their fans is just beyong me. This is truly my favorite fight ever and i have tremendous respect for both warroiors now.
Your thoughts? ya i know it was a very long read but if you did have the time to read it all thank you very much but seriously i dont expect you to read it all lol.