cupey alto
04-26-2008, 01:44 PM
I’ve played host to a few friends who visited New York City for the first time. As their unofficial tour guide, I take them around to the official sights--the Empire State Building, Central Park, the golden stretch of Fifth Avenue, the cow-path confusion of Greenwich Village. In showing visitors a checklist of attractions I usually take for granted, I see the sights anew. Tonight, my buddy Jeff came along with me and my brother to the Friday night fights. Jeff had never been to the fights and he didn’t know what to expect. As we crossed into the Bronx, I remembered the first time I attended a live boxing (http://fightbeat.com/article_detail.php?AT=628#) card. What impressed me most was the sound. The thud of leather against flesh was painful, more painful than the sight of two fighters hitting each other on two-dimensional TV screens. The men in the ring were taking punishment that men in street fights never took. I’d always enjoyed boxing, but I was hooked after my first live fights. And I had newfound respect for the fighters, respect that has grown as I’ve gotten to know some fighters, seen them train, seen them face walking those three steps to the ring, seen them lose and seen them win.
Jeff said he wouldn’t be able to pick up on the nuances of a fight, but I told him he’d immediately see the difference between a skilled fighter and a novice, between a fighter without a future and a fighter who could make a career on the canvas. My one piece of advice for Jeff was, “Watch their feet.” Boxing’s glory is in the fists, but without good legs, glory goes down swinging. Jeff’s a photographer and brought his camera (http://fightbeat.com/article_detail.php?AT=628#) along. I knew he’d get some good shots of some good shots.
Tonight’s main event promised to be a throwback, played out in a throwback venue, the Bronx’s Paradise Theater on the Grand Concourse. The throwback fight was between two guys who are so tough they’re almost too tough. I’ve seen black and white tapes of old school fighters like Gene Fullmer, Carmen Basilio, and Dick Tiger, guys whose toughness wasn’t tarnished by antiquated footage. Perhaps more impressive than the punches they delivered were the punches they took. Jesse Feliciano and Andre Tsurkan can both take punches. The pre-fight buzz said War.
http://fightbeat.com/article_detail.php?AT=628?AT=628
Jeff said he wouldn’t be able to pick up on the nuances of a fight, but I told him he’d immediately see the difference between a skilled fighter and a novice, between a fighter without a future and a fighter who could make a career on the canvas. My one piece of advice for Jeff was, “Watch their feet.” Boxing’s glory is in the fists, but without good legs, glory goes down swinging. Jeff’s a photographer and brought his camera (http://fightbeat.com/article_detail.php?AT=628#) along. I knew he’d get some good shots of some good shots.
Tonight’s main event promised to be a throwback, played out in a throwback venue, the Bronx’s Paradise Theater on the Grand Concourse. The throwback fight was between two guys who are so tough they’re almost too tough. I’ve seen black and white tapes of old school fighters like Gene Fullmer, Carmen Basilio, and Dick Tiger, guys whose toughness wasn’t tarnished by antiquated footage. Perhaps more impressive than the punches they delivered were the punches they took. Jesse Feliciano and Andre Tsurkan can both take punches. The pre-fight buzz said War.
http://fightbeat.com/article_detail.php?AT=628?AT=628