JONES VS. TARVER 2 POST-FIGHT ANALYSIS

May 16, 2004 - by Bert Sugar

Plagiarism, "tis said, begins at home. So, with that in mind, let me borrow a few words I once used about an event far less memorable than the one I witnessed last Saturday night: The Antonio Tarver-Roy Jones Jr. fight was as unbelievable as Santa Claus suffering vertigo, Captain Bligh seasickness, Mary having a little lamb.

No Tonic, no matter how popular and widely-advertised, could ever have the reviving effect for boxing fans as an upset. Especially one as unbelievable as the one Antonio Tarver fashioned in just four minutes and forty-one seconds.

There was no hint of what was to happen, either in the pre-fight hype or in the first four-and-a-half minutes of the fight itself.

All week long those with cauliflower tongues had been singing the praises of Jones, calling the reigning light heavyweight and "Pound-for-Pound" champ a "Superman" and more, and rendering their opinion, much like Moses delivering his sermon from the Mount, that his ordinary showing against Tarver in their first match-up was merely the result of his having to lose some 20 pounds. Other devotees of the life non-strenuous, those professional guess-your-weight merchants called bettors, seconded the emotion by betting Jones up to a 6-1 overdog.

But there was one man who wasn't having any of it: Antonio Tarver. Ever since their first meeting last November--which was thisclose, ending in a majority decision for Jones-Tarver had been an Antonio One-Note, telling anyone and everyone who would listen that he had "won." Now radiating a hard glow of high purpose, he told all he would duplicate, if not better, his efforts this time 'round.

And while a few were listening, betting the odds down to under 4-1, most thought Tarver's optimism was like that of a man who believed his wife had stopped smoking cigarettes because he had found cigar butts in the ashtray.

Now it was left to Tarver to show those disbelievers that, like Joe Namath's "Guarantee" in Super Bowl III, it ain't braggin' if you can do it. And the place to do it was in the ring.

So confident was he of his carrying off his boasts and brags that during the pre-fight instructions when referee Jay Nady asked both boxers if they had any questions, Tarver interjected, "Yes, I have a question," then directed his question to Roy: "Do you got any excuses tonight, Roy?"

Ironically, Tarver gave Jones an excuse in the very first round. Fighting with what seemed to be great self-control--so great, in fact, that he landed, according to CompuBox figures, only two punches in the round--Tarver instilled in the mind of Jones that this was going to be "too easy" as Jones moved in and out, scoring both to the body and head.

The beginning of the second round was little different than the first with Tarver stalking and Jones scoring. By now lulled into some sort of a comfort zone by Tarver's inaction, Jones tried to pull the trigger on a right, which missed and cocked his left, all the better to throw it. It was during that nanosecond that Tarver, after ducking under Jones' right, came up and, finding Jones open, threaded the needle's eye with a straight left, right down the pipe, a blasting cap that frescoed rather than gingerly touched Jones.

And what to the 20,000 disbelieving eyes could next be seen but Roy Jones Jr. flying through the air like a balloon with the string suddenly unattached and falling to the canvas, half out of the ring, head under the ropes in Tarver's corner, eyes rotating in their parent sockets. At the count of seven he struggled to his feet and then, as he staggered off somewhere in the direction of Reno, referee Jay Nady waved his arms signaling the end of the fight. And the end of the reign of Roy Jones Jr. as the light heavyweight and "Best Pound-for-Pound" champion.

As the ring began to take on the look of the most riotous scene since the French Revolution with Tarver supporters jumping and leaping over the ropes, most in the crowd stood stricken, hardly understanding nor believing what had just taken place. To quote Claude Reins in "Casablanca," they were "shocked! shocked! ," not so much by the fact Tarver had won, but in the manner in which he had done it.

For, to put the ending in perspective, it was one of the most surprising endings in boxing history, ranking right up there with George Foreman's sudden decimation of Michael Moorer. Or, going back, Sugar Ray Robinson's sudden dispatching of Gene Fullmer with one bodacious left hook. Or even for those who have not fallen over under the weight of their collected memories, Bob Fitzsimmon's one-punch "Solar Plexus" victory over Jim Corbett.

Now what for the two combatants? Well, besides reassessing Roy Jones' place in boxing history now that he has a loss, we know that Jones is not going to retire with that cranky letter "L" after his last bout. But rather than take Tarver on again, he probably will go up into the heavies for his next--and last--one or two bouts, probably against a Tyson or a Byrd.

And Tarver? The man who recently filed for bankruptcy is now $2.3 million richer-that's $328,571 for each punch landed if you're scoring at home-and now stands on the cusp of making money that's not been printed yet, most probably in the heavyweight division. After all, the reed-thin Tarver now looks like he could work in an olive factory dragging the pimentos through, so a few more pounds might easily be added to his frame to enable him to enter the heavyweight division--and become a force.

But rather than dwell on what may be, we're still trying to fathom what happened Saturday night, a night that will be remembered for as long as there's boxing. And brings to mind the following reflection: The next time somebody out there makes the remark that someone is "invincible," run, don't walk, to the betting window to bet against them. After all, that's why they have fights. Isn't it?