Steve Janoski– It was with some trepidation that I read Vivek Wallace’s article, “Roy Jones: Closed Chapter, Open Book.” My fear was that somehow, through his last few fights, Jones is regaining his stature, at least amongst boxing writers, as a top player in the game. Upon reading the article, I saw these fears confirmed.
I have been a long time Roy Jones Jr. fan, and one need only watch one of the plethora of tributes on youtube to see why. In his prime, Roy was not only one of the greatest to step into the ring, he was also a showman worthy of P.T. Barnum’s stature.. Roy not only won the fights; he put on a spectacle that would leave fans with everlasting impressions that cemented his greatness- crushing Virgil Hills’ ribs with brutal right hand, making James Toney look like a fool for
taunting him mid-fight, and pulling a page out of a cockfighting technique book in his stunning knockout of Glen Kelly. The man is to boxing what Dominique Wilkins was to basketball; a human highlight reel that not only triumphed, but made your jaw drop while doing it.
But those days are long since past. Since Jones’ knockout loss at the fists of Antonio Tarver, he has not recovered the strut and swagger that he once had. It has returned only in flashes, little pieces of excellence that Jones cannot quite draw together. He showed those pieces in his fight against Trinidad, in the first round of the Calzaghe fight, in his demolition of Lacy. But to say that the man is still a “top talent in the sport” is a vain attempt to resurrect a fighter whose body is not in the game anymore.
Wallace says that Roy is 5-1 in his last six fights. That’s true. But who were they against? Prince Badi Ajamu and Anthony Hanshaw were the first two. If anyone knows who they are, go out tonight and meet some girls, because you watch boxing too much.
The next was Tito Trinidad. Legend? Of course. Fading at age 35, fighting at 23 pounds above welterweight after taking three years off? Just a bit. Omar Sheika was another journeyman fighter, a guy whom Jones fought in the back of a convenience store somewhere in Florida in March. And follow that with “Left Hook” Lacy, whose meteoric fall is rivaled by few fighters in recent memory after his domination by Calzaghe. In other words- the worst college football team in the
world will look invincible when playing at a high school level. This has been the story of the last few years.
And then, the one fighter I skipped over, Joe Calzaghe. I’m not a fan of Calzaghe because I find it hard to be a fan of anyone who hides in Europe and fights in a weight class like Super Middleweight, and only looks to fight the superstars the day after they get their AARP card in the mail. How good Calzaghe really is we’ll never know, but on that night in November last year, he was a damn sight better than Roy Jones.
Jones looked older than his age in that fight. There were few combinations, and none of the speed and ferocity that he has fought with in the past. Jones was an rusting hero leaning against the ropes, constantly trying to muster a counterattack against an overwhelming opponent who was tailor-made for him. Calzaghe had perfect angles, rapid fire punches, and even taunted Roy, getting inside his head and playing mind games with the man who so easily psyched out so many.
With under a minute left in the third round, Calzaghe was literally forehead to forehead with Jones, arms at his sides, firing off shots at will. Jones could do little more than move forward with his hands up, missing with the occasional hook while getting tagged with all sorts of shots. His legs, once so light and agile, were cinder blocks that could have left drag marks on the canvas. Perhaps the most heartbreaking part is that it really looked like Roy knew that this just wasn’t it, and with every punch that Calzaghe slipped and ducked, a piece of Roy’s heart fell apart.
And I feel for the guy. To have such talent, and to have it leave so quickly, is a horrific thing to deal with. I wonder how regular people would feel if the talent that they once had slid away from them, and there was little they could do to regain it. Roy is a mechanic who looks at a car and knows what he has to do, but isn’t strong enough to loosen the lug nuts. He is the writer who cannot remember the names of his characters, a comic who can no longer make people laugh.
After the Calzaghe fight, I was hoping he would retire. I wanted him to leave us with the highlight reels and the magnificence, and to not keep fighting on, hurting himself more every day. I don’t want to see such a character end up like Ali or Frazier or Hearns because he just didn’t know when to quit.
Roy Jones may very well defeat Danny Green. Although Green is younger, the Australian exhibits little head movement or defense, things which, even though Roy is older, are still needed to come away with a win against him. But if he gets a shot at another title, or even an equally aged but far different fighter in Hopkins, he will be shown once again that his glory days are not today.
The old adage is that boxers are the first to know, and the last ones to admit, when to quit. Roy Jones is not the exception. He must learn that this is, unfortunately, not Cinderella Man. Reflexes, once gone, don’t come back, and hand speed, once it fades, is gone for good; no training or trainer in the world can fix that.
Whatever the outcome, Roy will remain one of my favorite fighters. He will go down as one of the greatest of all time, and in his youth, I would have put my money on him to defeat any fighter in history. The grit and determination that he has showed in the last five years has also elevated him, regardless of record, because it has answered all questions about the amount of heart the man possesses. But should he fight on, he should remember his legions of fans that wish to see him healthy for the rest of his life. It’s a sad time when fighters realize that there is more to life than the fight itself. I myself wish Roy would see this…for his own good.