John Ruiz Just Won’t Go Away

26.09.07 – By Matthew Hurley: So now, out of the morass that is the heavyweight division, John Ruiz, Mr. Clutch-And-Grab himself, has emerged from the ooze of his last performance and proclaimed himself ready to take on all comers. Ruiz is a genial sort, but as a fighter he is utterly horrible to watch. But he’s one of those odd athletes that can find a way to win and who doesn’t care how he does it..

Ruiz lost out in his bid to substitute for Oleg Maskaev for the WBC interim title against Samuel Peter. Jameel McCline got the call but the fact that Ruiz remains a player in the heavyweight shuffle says a lot about the division. The fact that Evander Holyfield is a getting a title shot against WBO heavyweight belt holder Sultan Ibragimov says more than enough, but at least the aged Holyfield still fights in a style accommodating his “Warrior” nickname.

“All these top guys,” Ruiz laments, “don’t want to fight anybody anymore. The only way I can get them in the ring is on short notice.”

No. The real problem is that you, John Ruiz, are box office poison and every fighter in the heavyweight division knows it. To delude yourself as to your fistic worth is embarrassing. Who can forget Lennox Lewis and just about everyone else walking out of Madison Square Garden when you yet again stunk up the joint against Fres Oquendo? But, in the end, you still have the courage to step into the ring and that should be applauded. Fighters are a rare breed, but that simple fact doesn’t make “The Quiet Man” worth watching.

The chances of John Ruiz ever becoming a player again in the division are marginal. Even Don King was glad to be rid of him, and King will hook his wagon to any trial horse that will make him money. But like a bad cold, this nuisance that is John Ruiz simply won’t go away. To an extent you have to admire his tenacity. But any fighter who enters the ring to the mournful strains of Billy Joel’s “Goodnight Saigon”, as Ruiz did in his biggest bout against Roy Jones, will never be a fan favorite. The man can’t even choose an energetic song.