posted by Baggiesboy

(This is my bad here, people. Baggiesboy sent me this on Saturday and it was meant to go up before the Euro final and I just couldn’t make it happen because the wireless was all screwy on my yacht. So make the proper allowances while reading. “There’s something wrong with me,” Sir Bag wrote to me. “I’m feeling sentimental about a German…” Sounds like a bloody mancrush to me, mate. That’s what we call the old “s-word” round these parts anyway -L)

Matt Damon look-a-like Michael Ballack has an identity crisis: to some, he’s the best midfield general of his generation, to many he’s soccer’s version of Colin Montgomerie, the best European player never to win a major title? On Sunday, provided he’s healthy after pulling up lame in training on Friday, the German captain will get one more chance to lay claim to the former, rather than the latter, as his legacy.

Like his celluloid doppelgänger Jason Bourne, the East German-born Ballack is a product of the post-Cold War age, and has traveled through many countries to reach the latest climax of his saga. At Euro 2008, that would be Poland, Croatia, Austria, Portugal, and Turkey, with Spain next on the continental crisscrossing agenda.

As with most Bourne movies, Ballack seemed a bit out of sorts as he started his Euro quest. Against the Poles, he needed a young blonde assistant to step up at a key time (think of Lukas Podolski as Julia Stiles with a bad haircut and wicked left foot.) With Croatia, the plot turned really messy: bodies strewn all over the field, and a young henchman losing control (at the risk of mixing movie metaphors does anyone know a casting director with Dolph Lundgren’s cell phone number? If he can’t be found to play Bastian Schweinsteiger, then Brigitte Nielsen is the only other option: which would be a rocky choice to say the least.) But this is where our armband bedecked hero earned his popcorn.

In one of the smartest moves of the tournament, after the defeat by Croatia, the Chelsea man called a players only meeting and laid down the Ballack ultimatum. He wanted more commitment from his teammates and no more Fräulein WAGs in the tabloids. Yes, like that other terrible British soccer disease, hooliganism, WAGs have crossed the English Channel as well. I know of very few people outraged by German supermodels, but reportedly Herr Ballack is one of them.

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posted by Large

Manny (can I call you Manny? Mr. Pacquiao? Your Honor?), I offer you a sincere apology. The other day, looking to break out of a terrible prognostificating slump, and yes, looking to be perhaps just a little too clever for my own good, I picked David Diaz to beat you in your fight last night. I fear now that was a bit of an insult to you, and having witnessed what happened in there, I want to apologize as quickly as possible lest you take it into your head to beat the living shit out of me too.

Here are the ways in which I slandered you. I now officially take them all back and ask for your forgiveness:

1. I suggested that you might not take your power with you up to lightweight. This was most egregiously wrong on my part. In fact, I now suspect that you are going to be more powerful at 135 than you were at 130. This, I think, may not bode very well for Juan Manuel Marquez.
2. And on the topic of Juan Manuel Marquez, I suggested that you had been in some manner of decline in your recent fights, and that assessment I now see as a travesty. The fact of the matter is that these guys that you have been fighting over and over again – Barrera, Morales, Marquez – are all-time greats. For some reason, I forgot about this and decided that, because they gave you a hard time, that you were a mere mortal and not the Born To Beat Much Ass Superfreak Human Tasmanian Devil Spawn Death Machine that I now full accept you to be. Again, I apologize for any confusion on this count.



3. I also suggested that you would have trouble with a fellow southpaw, and I was at least glad to hear from you in your post-fight interview that you yourself wondered about this. I think, however, that we can both be assured now that you’re good on the “fighting southpaws” front. The arsenal of punches you whipped out Diaz’s poor head, the uppercuts, the right hooks! JESUS! Your reliance on the straight left in the past has clearly been borne of opportunity as a very effective weapon against the orthodox stance. I now see that you have a dazzling array of other punches in your arsenal and I will never again suggest otherwise.
4. I intimated that your conditioning might be suspect, and let me take this moment to really apologize for that. You’re obviously in unbelievable shape, and I get the feeling that fighting at 135 is only going to make you more dangerous in that respect. Yet another reason to fear you, whether you are a prospective opponent or just a lowly sportswriter who has denigrated you in print somewhere although in his heart of hearts he really didn’t mean it.
5. Finally, I gave the impression that I believed that you would be looking past David Diaz and this would adversely affect your chances against Mr. Diaz in a boxing contest. On this count, well, I still think you were looking past David Diaz. Where I was wrong on this one was on the “adversely affect your chances” business. And where I was really wrong was simply not to acknowledge the level of your true greatness. Fighters as great as you can look past the David Diaz’s of the world and still kick the shit out of them without breaking a sweat. In other words, I did not pay Your Greatness the proper respect, and for that I am deeply, deeply sorry.

Let me summarize, Manny, because I know that your English is not so great and I want to make myself plain as day. You are a powerful lightweight. You are not in any way in decline. Southpaws pose no problem to you – in fact, you beat them up worse than you beat up conventional fighters. You are in astonishingly good shape. You are Truly Great. And finally, I do not want to fight you ever for any reason.

Very VERY Respectfully Yours, Large

(p.s. Dear David Diaz – Let me be the first to fucking thank you for the most hilarious fucking post-fight interview I ever fucking heard. I bet Lamps and Manny Steward are still fucking laughing.)

posted by Large

A lot of people hated on the Pacquiao/Diaz matchup after it was made, mostly because of the fallout of the Marquez decision and the controversy it generated.

But look, say what you will about the man – Bob Arum knows what he’s doing. This move up to 135 for Pacquiao to face a Davis Diaz-caliber fighter has just enough of a question mark on it to make it interesting, and yet not enough of one (the CW would have it) to put Pac Man in serious jeopardy. Diaz is hard as nails but he’s not a puncher. He takes a great shot, he’s a big lightweight, he throws a lot of power punches, he likes to mix it up. On the whole, he’s perfect for a kinetic brawler like Pacquiao, a perfect match to make a fight that, so the Pac Man Team hopes, will be dramatic and worthy of its status as a pay-per-view headliner and yet also in the end a borderline easy outing for their man, one that will leave him in great shape for the third leg of the Marquez trilogy next year with each man potentially holding claims on the lightweight title (provided, of course, JMM beats lineal champ Jose Casamayor this fall, a big if indeed).

And hey, that may very well be the way it turns out. But for me, I don’t know. The built-in questions for this fight are more than just a PPV tease to my mind. There are legit issues to be addressed here and they give me pause in the planning of the Pacquiao parade.

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posted by Large

As we all know, Manny Pacquiao makes his debut at lightweight tomorrow night against the WBC champ at 135, David Diaz. Due to his superstar status in the fight game, Pac Man earned himself the right to fight for a title in his first lightweight bout and at the same time enhance his status as a Mexican Assassin in facing Diaz, a Mexican-American who fights out of Chicago.

With the recent retirement of Floyd Mayweather, Pacquiao was elevated on most notable lists (including Ring Magazine’s) to the title of the best pound-for-pound fighter of the world. Now a recent article over at Boxing Scene is upping the ante and saying that Pacquiao is the likely candidate right now for Fighter of the Decade.

With 2009 right around the corner, I suppose it’s not too early to talk about such a meaningless, media-driven title as F.O.D., especially in that the best-of-the-decade debate is going to be an interesting one in boxing, unlike, say, some of the other big-time individual sports (golf? dah… men’s tennis? doy…).

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posted by Large

This has been a long time in coming, much too long. While we were on our most ignominious technological vacation, our man, Ariel Helwani, a.k.a. The Franchise, once a regular No Mas scribe (you may remember his now legendary column here, Sharpshootin’), became the managing editor of mmarated.com, a new site that is pretty quickly establishing itself as one of the best MMA sites on the web.

Obviously, I’m going to give love to The Franchise because he’s one of the family, but I’m telling you I’m not even kissing the man’s ass in loving on his site – the site is just nice. It’s particularly strong on videos and interviews, most of which feature the Chise himself as he begins to fulfill his destiny as either the Howard Cosell or Ali G of mixed martial arts.

Below are some Franchise highlights from the site, an interview with Gina Carano (where Chise seems awfully chummy with Gina) and a classic Franchise exclusive in which he interviews Brett Rogers right after Rogers called out Kimbo Slice at the post-fight presser from the big CBS Elite XC show. Check them out, and then check out mmarated.com for all your MMA shiznau and show the Chise a double shot of some No Mas love.

posted by Baggiesboy

(The Bag is back – our crack football correspondent, Baggiesboy, files his dispatch today from Basel, where I’m told there’s a bit of business going on – L)

As surely as Cristiano Ronaldo will play for Real Madrid, there was one certainty at the ever surprising 2008 European Championships: someone will win (and lose) on penalty kicks. First to step up to the white dot of terror at Euro 2008 was Croatia and Turkey. As usual, the ‘Kick of Death” was greeted with howls of protest: “it’s a lottery” was the cry. Nonsense, I say.

I fold my old school credentials to no W-Formation diehard (or ‘Soccer Made in Germany” viewer, if you prefer), but the penalty kick resolution is far from a lottery at this point (or Russian Roulette, if you prefer the more menacing cliché , in one of life’s delightful quirks, so far Russia has never participated in football’s version of rock, paper, scissors.) While I agree with the premise that penalty kicks should never decide a game (I understand replays are out of the question in the over-scheduled world we live in, but the drama of replayed games had a unique tension all of their own, and the best team DID advance in those situations) the fact of the matter is that penalties are here to stay. The drama is too compelling and has the added bonus of suiting the schedules of television executives in every corner of the globe. So any self-respecting player (coaches and fans as well) had better get ready to step up to the spot and take them. Therein lies the rub. How many teams live the Carnegie Hall mantra: practice, practice, practice?

It’s time to withdraw the ‘Get Out of Jail” free card for the quintet of doomed spot kickers. They have known this moment was on their horizon since 1976. And by the way, how wonderful was that first major tournament shootout? I’m more than happy to see an endless loop of Czechoslovakia giving West Germany ‘das boot” in the Euro ‘76 Final ‘on penalties.” First, Uli Hoeness blasted over the bar to put West Germany on the edge, and then Sepp Maier was humiliated by Antonin Panenka’s delicate, yet sensational, title winning chip. Students of history should take two lessons from this inaugural baptism by penalty kick fire: Panenka’s famous floater was the result of perfecting the move on the training field. There was no gut check for this Czech. He knew what he was doing and calmly grasped glory. Second, Germany has not lost on penalties since: and that would be a combined five, yes, count ‘em, FIVE, penalty shootouts at the World Cup and European Championships that they have subsequently won. In a slap of the lederhosen to Mr. Carnegie, Germany skipped practice on the newly laid Basel field prior to the Portugal quarterfianl, as that would, among other things, cut into their penalty kick practice time.

It should also be noted that Germany excelled at ‘Golden Goals” as well. The sight of Oliver Bierhoff escorting Joachim Löw to an unexpected audience with Chancellor Angela Merkel in the Vienna stands last Monday night revived memories of his game-winning header that handed sudden death to the Czech Republic in the Euro 1996 Final. But like my beloved Three Lions, there is no ‘Golden Goal” in the Alps. I was a big fan of the sadly short-lived penalty-kick alternative. But my petitions for its return have gone the way of the Dutch celebration party in Basel: brilliant in composition, but as ever deep-sixed into the Rhine by greater forces in the universe.

And for the first time in a long time, those greater forces seem to be favoring Spain. The June 22 Jinx (three quarterfinal losses on penalty kicks on that date) was all set to strike Espana again on Sunday, but Ike Casillas didn’t let Gigi Buffon’s gentle pat on the cheek psyche him out and his saves knocked the World Cup champions out of Euro 2008. In its World Cup semifinal with Germany two years ago, Italy famously went on the offensive in extra time, and won. They knew their own notoriously bad record in penalties, and the German’s stellar one. In Vienna on Sunday, they played for penalties from the kickoff. And they got their just desserts for reverting to the dreary catennacio ways of old.

One of the main traits of this exhilarating Euro 2008 is that the team that plays to win has won. The Dutch started the trend against Italy. Spain has played with the same attacking flair, and Germany reverted to its 2006 World Cup hell-for-leather style in attacking Portugal from the start in the quarterfinals. And when Guus Hiddink said Russia was going to attack Sweden and then the Netherlands, well, the flying Dutchman wasn’t blowing smoke. His star player Andrei Arshavin doesn’t look old enough to shave, but he has transformed his team, and the tournament.

Here’s hoping that Euro 2008 comes down to one piece of magic from Arshavin, a dazzling finish from David Villa, or a power play from Michael Ballack. Penalty kicks is the last thing anybody wants (or so we all say.) But if the Kick of Death descends upon Vienna come Sunday night. Then be prepared. It takes more than a dollar and a dream to win the European crown.

I was going through some of my old fight DVD’s recently and trying to catalog them and I came across an epic knockout, one that recently celebrated its 20-year anniversary, one that seemed like it needed immediate enshrinement as an official No Mas Knockout of the Week.

I remember I was at the opening of the Golden Gloves one year and Bill Gallo was introducing all the old fighters who were in attendance and when he said, “And here’s a guy who beat Tommy Hearns a couple of times,” I thought to myself, man, what a way to get introduced for the rest of your life.

Iran “The Blade” Barkley did indeed beat Hearns twice, and the first time it was on one of those swinging-for-the-fences type of knockouts that is the very definition of the puncher’s chance.

On June 6, 1988, Hearns and Barkley met with the Hitman’s WBC middleweight belt on the line and by the third round the Blade was all sliced up. Badly cut and taking a monster beating, Barkley started desperately winging around the kind of full-body haymakers that could knock out dinosaurs. Of course, such punches rarely connect, but when they do, oh man. Tommy stepped into one, did a Frankenstein two-step, and then fell back timber-style, while Barkley, seeing what had happened, stepped in and gave Hearns one more right to the kisser to take with him down to the canvas.

It was the Ring Upset of the Year, and for good reason. Tommy would attempt to get revenge in a light-heavyweight title fight against Barkley in 1992 in one of the most memorable and brutal fights of the decade. He lost, of course, a narrow split decision in which the margin of victory boiled down to a knockdown that Barkley scored in the fourth round.

(The video below has the second and third rounds of Barkley/Hearns I – the knockout happens at around 6:50).

This was one of those weekends where people who don’t pay any attention to boxing at all (in other words, most people) think nothing happened in the sport.

Of course, those of us who follow the fistic arts a little more closely know different. There were a whole handful of next-in-line type of fighters in action in the past few days looking to make major statements and announce that they’re ready for their closeup. Amazingly, almost all of them did exactly that.

Let’s begin with the big attraction of the weekend, perhaps the only bout that would have garnered a look from the casual fan – the Arthur Abraham/Edison Miranda rematch.

A Panther Fit for a King

First of all, let me say this – what the holy hizzdang hell happened to my prognosticational skills? I have no idea. In 2007, I was calling ROUNDS my friends. And now, now… man you think Chase Utley’s in a slump. Chase ain’t got nothing on the Larginator. I keep swinging, though. You got to give me that much. I step up to the plate and take my hacks and one of these days that seeing-eye single is going to get Stella her groove back.

In the meantime, I bet on Miranda, a little heavier than I’d care to admit. Good thing Mrs. Large very rarely reads this crap. Poor Pantera, sheesh. He goes in there talking about how he’s going to kick Abraham’s ass, and then immediately afterwards he’s going to jump out of the ring and kick Kelly Pavlik’s ass, and then after that he’s going to nail six bitches in the audience at once and impregnate them all simultaneously and then wrassle with a alligator and eat it whole. Right, Edison? Something like that?

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posted by Large

What a freakin flippin flarkin weekend it’s going to be in the ring. So many big names in action all over the world. Let’s rundown the roster in order of appearance:

Andre Ward v. Jerson Ravelo
Ronald Hearns v. Jose Luis Gonzalez
Eddie Chambers v. Raphael Butler
Wayne McCullough v. Juan Ruiz
Showtime – Tonight

I’m pretty sure that Showtime is only going to broadcast the Andre Ward fight, but this undercard they have is just so ridiculous I have to give it some airtime. You start with the presence of the Pocket Rocket himself, Irish Wayne McCullough, a true folk hero if ever there was one. McCullough hasn’t fought since his 2005 bloodfest with Oscar Larios, and it’s sad, I think, that his return to the ring three years later is as the fourth undercard fight on an Andre Ward-caliber main event in the Cayman Islands. But there you have it. He was supposed to come back and fight Kiki Martinez last year but the whole thing blew up at a weigh-in fiasco. I raise an imaginary pint of the brown in hopes that Brother Wayne does himself proud and more importantly does not get hurt. Because, ah, he’s been known to absorb a punch or two in there, ole Wayne.

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posted by Large

Oh my people, oh my people… I first want to give a real shoutout to all of you out there who have stayed with us throughout our time of troubles here. Seems like we finally got our last lingering bug out of the system yesterday as the august I-Berg figured out our comments problem. So you are now free to let fly with your comments as in the grand old days of Mas, and in the prophetic words of Cube – “everything is all right… I got a beep from Kim, and she could do it all night…”

I’ll have a big boxing preview piece coming either today or tomorrow, but to tide you over for that, let me direct you over to this minor firestorm I started over at The Sporting Blog with a piece about the Celtics. Here’s a taste:

“Am I the only person in the world who thinks that the way the Celtics ran up the score in the final minutes last night was about as classless and low as it gets? They couldn’t, and shouldn’t, have stopped playing, and yes, the Lakers had thrown in the towel. That said, in whatever situation you do it and at whatever level, firing up threes and lofting alley-oops when you’re up 30 is bush league. Well-coached high-school kids know better…”

The Celtics: Classless as They Wanna Be (The Sporting Blog)