This is a good one for pure honesty about this fight from an American perspective.
Hush-Hush-It’s Haye vs Harrison@Handbags-Shhhhhhhh... by Bobby Mac
Today, Halloween has fallen on a Sunday, meaning that tomorrow is the start of another work week, the start of another November, and 13 unlucky days before the English witching hour strikes when two MONSTERS commence with their titanic engagement.
If the great American heavyweights have gone the way of ALL YOU CAN EAT buffet stockyards, then surely the Haye vs Harrison battle of the sweet tweets is the type of English Handbags @ strokes of midnight affair that real men dare not contemplate for fear of a real beating or worse.
Well, never fear, Mr. Haye and the WBA have no such old fashioned manly sensibilities to hinder them from putting their WBA cheese belt up for grabs in public, so here we are, David Haye vs Audley Harrison, Handbags & Hairbraids a’Flyin’ in equal measure.
Who you got?
Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s a new era of harder women and softer men where anyone can own a designer belt of their choice. Hey, I’m OK with the sociologic notion of everyone owning a piece of self esteem. I like Teddy Bears and easy work as much as the next man, woman, or other.
Regardless of the comedic value of the fight, David Haye and Audley Harrison do have some genuine talent and credentials, so it never had to come down to this level of derision. Technically and emotionally, it’s quite possible a fine fight can be waged IF they can summon up the will and courage, however, on every weekend a boxing fan can find a few really fine, heroic quality fights being waged by journeymen class fighters, prospects, and fringe contenders.
So What?
One supposes Homer Simpson could also put together a fine battle between Krusty the Klown and Ronald MacDonald, and one can only imagine the all time randy cat scratchin’s that Hugh Hefner has refereed, so really, a world title fight should represent more than just a fine battle between contestants.
Myself, well then, I’ll happily confess to having more than my fair share of sport over these gentle metromen given the amount of money being generated by this fluff, the reason being that they have both been heavily promoted in their heavyweight careers and promised much, yet have scarcely delivered more than comedy or farce.
Fairplay: Mr. Harrison promised way back that he was going to fight for a world title and fight Mr. Haye, so he’s met most of his contractual obligations with the public regardless of what happens next. Given the rollercoaster nature of his career, injuries, and advanced age, 39, that’s quite a comeback for the former 2000 Olympic superheavyweight gold medalist who first turned professional with the world as his oyster.
Boo-hoo: The 31 yr old Mr. Haye relinquished his brief cruiser championship(one defense), with the promise of bringing a top ten heavyweight contender to England to smash up in his quest to clean out the division and seize all the belts. Instead, he retired to his new estate in Cypress for 8 months, ignoring the WBA’s generous offer to give him first crack at undefeated Russian legend, Ruslan Chagaev, who had wrested the WBA crown from the undefeated giant Nickoli Valuev on the eve of his attempt to tie Rocky Marciano’s undefeated 49-0 record.
Could it get any hotter than that?
Way, way too scalding HOT for Mr. Haye to handle. Instead he served up cold chipped beef leftovers on milquetoast on a dark and dreary London night against 40ish fringe contender Monte Barrett who hasn’t won a fight since.
Oh, I guess Mr. Hayemaker promotions delivered value of sorts, pricing the tickets at 2 for one to paper out the sparse attendance. And the fight was “exciting” for those of a wickedly cruel disposition, first kicked off when Barrett fell over while attempting to leap into the ring before both commenced to winging wide clubfighter swings in a donnybrook straight out of an Irish pub where everyone hit the floor to be hit on the floor.
The only thing missing was bar stools crashing, pints a’flying, and the tough Martin Rogan who had qualified himself by winning Prizefighter, but was not invited to the festivities. Alas, a threesome would’ve been way too much fun for the Marquis of Queensbury who promptly quelled the unseemly disturbance by pulling the plug on Barrett to declare Mr. Haye the victor.
Mr. Haye then pasted together an 8th grade styled youtube video of him promoting hisself running up an escalator to the foot of the big Ukrainian champ, Wlad Klitschko, pestering him for a title fight like a dog whining for a treat. Wlad patted him on his head and then went on about his business.
That promotion being unsuccessful, Mr. Haye then manufactured some tee-shirts of hisself carrying the severed heads of the Klitschko brothers who then had their first ever brotherly squabble, dickering over who had first crack at sending Mr. Haye splotto into Bolivia.
So, they pulled straws and Wlad won the contractual rights to Mr. Haye who promptly backed out of his contractual arrangements, leaving Wlad scrambling weeks before their fight to conjure up a credible challenger out of the rapidly Klitschko decimated heavyweight ranks.
The Klitschkos should’ve known better at that point.
Read more here:
http://www.ringnews24.com/index.php/hom ... eview.html