Don't Do It

Dear Bernard,

Please. This isn't a plea for your health. You're a cagey, wiry boxing lifer who clearly has the better half of your brain left, and what's more, you're in fitter condition than most boxers half your age. So let us be clear - we don't fear for your health, long or short-term, especially at the hands of a potato-bag like Oleg Maskaev. In all honesty, we'd be surprised if that glorified longshoreman got off one clean shot against you, no matter how much weight you put on for the fight.

It's a question of dignity. It's all the talk about your promise to your mom. It's the way you went out against Tarver, a pure fucking masterpiece, and the way you did it by throwing it back old school, talking Jersey Joe, talking Sugar Ray and Joey Maxim. In an age in which boxing seems tarnished at every turn, you've always been one guy that we could look at and say, "there's a guy who's worthy of the golden age... there's a guy who understands what it's all about."

We can accept it if you come back for a superfight, but there's no one out there who demands such a fight in your weight class. Calzaghe? Forget it. Oscar? Already had a dish of your chopped liver and onions. Roy? No no and no. And now this talk of fighting Maskaev - trust me, Ex, true boxing fans don't give a shit about that fight. You blowing up to 195 so you could give this shithead a boxing lesson on a 50 dollar pay-per-view and win a meaningless belt is not going to do a damn thing for your legacy.

So keep to your word. Your exit was flawless, you are one of the all-time greats, and no one will forget you any time soon. In the ring, you were one of the few guys that we could respect over the last decade. Be one of the few we can respect out of it.

With sincerest regards,

No Mas