By Ted Spoon: There is a reason why the thumping Argentinean, for many people’s money, is the greatest middleweight in the division’s history; it’s the same reason why many believe the ‘bald-headed’ one deserves the accolade…neither budged from their natural poundage. That may sound very vague, certainly the talents of each need not be emphasized, but in not venturing north they were able to amass unrivaled pedigrees at 160lbs.
The deeds of the ambitious middleweight represent a theme very dear to boxing, stretching right back to the days of Daniel Mendoza when he began to trump the giants with cunning and speed. Since then, multiple weight divisions have lessened those assaults on the bigger man, and through mostly failed efforts gave birth to the pugilistic doctrine, ‘a good big man will always beat a good little man’.
Carlos wasn’t just ‘good’, but nonetheless remains one of the few who never tried his hand at the men over 190lbs, and as such any predictions about a light-heavyweight journey come from a fundamental uncertainty; the same one when trying to envisage Marvin Hagler tackle Michael Spinks.
The latter example may seem cruel but history has not always been so condemning; Ketchel rolled over men 40lbs more than him, Greb made a career out of dazzling heavyweights, Walker did admirably so against heavier men, Robinson showed the capacity, and Jones and Hopkins scaled nicely.
It’s true that some fighters simply don’t climb well, and Monzon did not possess the type of speed or power to derail a boxing match, but there still must be an element of charity in postulating his success. We would all make Ezzard Charles the favourite in a mythical match-up, but could you really see him lace Monzon in 5? And would you be particularly surprised if Carlos managed to sink in a hurtful shot?
It is from this considered stance that we’ll go through a few 175lbs showdowns.
Vs. Georges Carpentier: The charismatic Frenchman proved to be a fine Light-heavyweight in his day, certainly not the best; beatable, but swift, powerful and gutsy enough to take the best into the trenches.
Monzon was likely made of sterner stuff; tougher skin and harder to disturb, but Carpentier was very crafty as he seductively cowered into the corners before lashing out. Trying to get a hold of Carpentier would prove difficult early on, and Monzon would be prone to sample his scorching right, but the Argentinean was accustomed to biding his time and would look to counter against Georges ‘thump-and-dash’ routine.
The strength, particularly of leg with Carpentier, could pose a problem. The ‘Orchid man’ moved around the ring very well, threatening to make this a very scrappy and frustrating ride for Carlos. Jean-Claude Bouttier demonstrated how playing your percentages can get success, even if he was ultimately chewed up. With his jolting punch, Carpentier could potentially buy himself the rests he liked to sneak in along the way.
One of Monzon’s strongest traits was his ability to stick at a set pace; something which has gone onto label him rather lumbering, yet cursed every opponent. His game was pressure-boxing much like Joe Louis, subtlety forcing the issue, keeping a keen eye on rash decisions, and it’s this aspect that could help Monzon begin to write the antithesis to Carpentier’s frantic surges.
Another strength of Monzon’s which would likely grate was his inside strength. He appeared very much irritant to proposed rests up close where he hammered in rabbit punches and wrestled his man out of the safety of a clinch. Carpentier is not going to have to deal with another Jack Dempsey in this regard, but it is going to unsettle him nonetheless following failed lunges.
In the end it feels as if Carpentier has the tools to make it a tough fight, rather than his fight. Monzon must be viewed, not just as one of the sturdiest, but also as one of the most mentally strong of all fighters; Carpentier’s ace in power surely cannot be the undoing of the man who leapt up in defiance when Rodrigo Valdez hit him with that pulveriser.
As the rounds pass, Carpentier’s trickery is going to lose its hold on Monzon, who, always calm and persistent, will begin to narrow the alternatives. The superior boxing of the Argentine will begin to scold Carpentier’s loose guard, and when he sneaks inside he will be readily dug out, forced back into an increasingly demanding contest.
A few clean bombs are likely to dazzle the crowd more than Monzon who would indifferently plug away until a bruised and dispirited Carpentier took to the canvas in the latter rounds.
Vs Bob Foster: The long-limbed and especially destructive light-heavyweight would be favoured by most to generate too great a storm for Monzon to survive. Certainly, without giving his legacy so much as a drop of rose-tinted adulation, those who found themselves too light to dance at the northern most poundage were dealt with in terrible fashion.
Foster’s perforating blows and the effect they had carries enough reason for one to envisage Carlos, sooner or later, hitting the deck, but the bold counter-argument finds the potential for an exciting shootout.
It’s all too easy to remember only one side or aspect about a fighter; fans forget how well Aaron Pryor could relax his assaults and box, or how good of a shot Frazier’s right was to the ribs. Similarly, it’s easy to forget Monzon the early champion, back when he was a bit more lithe and aggressive before a more calculating nature oversaw the rest of his reign.
Foster’s 6’2 and lunging jabs are set to dispel Monzon’s usual advantages and so chances must be taken on his behalf. A come-forward approach may seem suicidal, but boxing Foster would prove no less of a hazard. The Carlos who tore after Benvenuti was ruthless; quick to back you up and make his punches count. He marched forward but with high hands and plenty of consideration; he wouldn’t anchor himself in harm’s way as did a vertically-challenged Tiger.
Further, if we agree that Carlos was one of the most durable of middleweights then it could be said in fairness that Foster was not the sturdiest of light-heavyweights. Lesser operators managed to trouble Foster during his career, and Monzon did not bare the kind of temperament to cower if caught; it may present the biggest harzard for Bob when he got in a clean blow and riled his abrasive opponent.
Foster’s hook and right hand, as dangerous as they were, are also perhaps guilty of overshadowing Monzon’s own dynamite; Carlos could crack, and not only that, but picked his punches very well to boot. His clubbing right hand, while not wall-denting like Fosters, could still cause problems with its seductive nature.
It feels especially audacious to have Monzon finding greater leverage in a shootout with the likes of Foster, but while the smart bet would state otherwise, it’s an idea that nonetheless merits attention.
Monzon would be releasing his punches that bit closer and directing them that bit higher, but with his unique, carefully belligerent manner could possibly put Foster into a spot of bother. Bob was deceptive with his punches and could draw his man onto damaging counters (the right hand clinic against Finnegan demonstrates nicely), but Monzon himself was very smart; versatile, quick to adapt, and when combined with his impervious mentality makes for a very trick obstacle.
It’s not at all fantastical to see Monzon go in there and trouble Foster, but the gap from trouble to win feels too distant to transmute that success into victory. As fantastic a middleweight as Monzon was, he is taking a big leap into the unknown with this one. The differences in height and the constant danger would not diminish as time elapsed; in actuality, it would give Foster more of a chance to measure his fiery, but out-gunned opponent.
Carlos’s chance rests on a sceptical, kamikaze operation, one in which Foster would likely survive and then repay kindly to end matters with a mid-round thud.
Vs. Gene Tunney: One of the rings authorities on the nuances of technique, Tunney combined all the necessary requisites for a boxer, namely strength, toughness and instinct to a unique degree. He could perplex the cuties and hustle the brawlers.
The 189lbs incarnation would simply present Monzon with too much of everything, and so we pit him here against the Light-Heavyweight who fell victim to an insidious windmill; the same special talent, but with less bulk and a measure of naivety.
Discounting the misfortunes of Tunney in the first fight, the series between him and Harry Greb still showed the difficulties he had with the smaller man. Naturally, it goes without saying, Greb was a phenomenon of the first order, but were Monzon is soundly trumped in speed, he makes for an interesting substitute with greater height and reach.
In the ensuing blend of upright stances and straight-punching, Tunney would have to sample Monzon’s unusual delivery, which had a habit of confusing. As much of a connoisseur as Tunney was at decoding styles, Monzon gave very little away and could never be termed predictable. The often dubbed ‘slow’ and ‘pushy’ appearance of his punches muddled the anticipation of his opponent until, sure enough, they miscalculated.
It was that shift in speed which caught fighters unaware. Monzon’s punches accelerated through a broken rhythm, from average to fairly quick. This trait of his couldn’t so much be thought of as a habit as a mysterious occurrence, one of which Tunney’s knack for pre-fight studies would find elusive.
Monzon did not have the kind of blistering agility with which Greb used to entangle his prey, but his reach levels the anatomical advantage, and rather than ploughing forward, which allowed for Gene to get in plenty of effective body punching against the windmill, he would welcome the boxing match.
A favoured tactic in Tunney’s boxing was in clamping an opponent’s arms after connecting; something which Carlos would not tolerate. The heavyweight who succeeded against a jaded Dempsey would almost certainly shut Carlos down, but the lighter man would find it tough, and lest we underrate Carlo’s own strength, the man who locked horns with bulldozers Bennie Briscoe and Rodrigo Valdez.
Monzon was an austere strategist and found it unforgivable to lose a step. Assertive but no victim to frustration, he answered back calmly and creatively.
With neither man in any real danger of suffering a count the bout is likely to slip into a protracted chess match. Tunney has the Carlos for speed and mobility but Monzon’s similar size and ubiquitous quirks will reappear to jolt Tunney from the driver’s seat.
Again there is that feeling of audacity which creeps in when insinuating victory for the lighter man, but is Tunney really that much more deserving of our confidence? He could and did lose; granted, that was against the exceptional, but this writer is not off balance in stating the same of Carlos.
That lethal indifference, that arbitrary flow and that spitefulness would linger throughout a highly-contested 15 rounds, leaving Tunney that bit more estranged and roughed-up at the final bell.
Looking back it feels silly to imply that Monzon’s decision to stay at middleweight was not the right one (making 14 record defences and commanding his division as he did), but on the other hand, had he taken that ambitious and well-tread path upwards it may have blast ‘Escopeta’ from all time brilliance into the realms of the untouchable.