Andre Ward: The Arthur Abraham Non-Challenge
By Eugene Green
Two years ago, his Majesty King Arthur appeared to be a warrior worthy of the highest accolades. His fearless heart and brutal punching power, complemented by a shrewd fighting brain, led him to demolish all obstacles in his path, no matter the odds. We saw him grind out a 12-round decision with a jaw that was broken in the early rounds (now, he can really boast of his “jaws of steel” or titanium, to be precise). Victory after victory, his unusual boxing tactics continued to remain a puzzle for his opponents, viewers and commentators alike.
In his “crusade” for greatness, King Arthur took an admirable gamble by abandoning his title, and going up in weight to enter the Super Six Tournament. Being a champion was not enough – he wanted to participate in this historic event to prove to the world that he is the best, period. The analysts bought it, paying dues to Abraham‘s undefeated record, experience and grit. They did not have to wait long for confirmation: in the very first fight an exhilarating twelfth round knockout over Jermain Taylor sent blood-curdling chills to millions of boxing-addicted spines. In that moment of victory, with his glove raised high, he was on top of the world. At that time, very few could have foreseen the great challenges that lay ahead.
Yet, they came in an overwhelming avalanche. The dark forces of evil had dealt the King several crushing blows, tarnishing his reputation in the process, and leaving him in what at this moment seems to be an unsolvable quandary. We have seen him stoop to a DQ, in the heat of battle, by knocking out Andre Dirrell while on his knees. It is unquestionable that Andre dominated him right until that ignominious slip. The ominous trend carried on to the next bout, as the British contender Carl Froch proved superior in every department, solidly outpointing and embarrassing the proud Armenian. While there may be some consolation that these are top echelon fighters, the disheartening part about these losses is that Abraham, the thinking man’s fighter, did not have an answer, either physically or mentally.
If you have conflicting feelings about Abraham, you are not alone. Arthur is a very strange combination of utterly boring and wildly exciting. He is a notoriously late starter, who stands near the ropes and eats punches until, in the fifth or so round, as if by some whim, he decides that he’s had enough and starts winging hooks with the velocity of a cannon ball. With his last two bouts behind him, we can safely conclude that he seems to have the most difficulty when competing against the unconventional, quick footed boxers, able to give him angles and apply pressure in irregular spurts as opposed to the simple-minded brawlers who come straight at him.
Without being condescending, Arthur’s shtick can be summarized as “The Abraham Trap”. It was likely invented for both the brawler and boxer alike as a one-size-fits all solution. It worked for a while: the “Abraham Trap”, without failure, snapped in its titanium jaws the bodies of unsuspecting 28 opponents. It is a crafty several step program that works as such: a) Exhaust opponent in the first four or five rounds, by allowing him to overexert himself, while remaining stationary and flat footed, with a high guard b) Suddenly shift from inactivity to several attack modes in the early middle rounds to see how “hittable” the opponent is, again lulling and exhausting him with passive, near the ropes, high guard c) In late middle rounds, crank up the offensive with power shots while keeping high guard, until said fighter is knocked out. Again, this formula will bear its best fruit if the opponent comes straight forward, and exhausts himself by constantly exerting strength in a futile attempt to penetrate his guard.
While it can be his tried and true friend, we have seen this equation become Arthur Abraham’s worst enemy. This is evident when he is forced to madly chase the other guy around the ring, desperately betting on a single punch knockout, just because he is so far behind on points. Both Froch’s and Dirrell’s game plan was beautiful in its simplicity: box the slower Abraham, scoring points in the early rounds, controlling him with the jab, with plenty of movement around the ring. Abraham waits around for them, so that he could do his thing, but of no use: they ain’t comin’. He finds himself in a quickly sinking boat, without a way to get back into the fight. The worst part about it is that he is a roundhouse puncher, and it takes him a Wisconsin minute to get set, before he can fire. Fighting a naturally quicker guy, the difference is further amplified when the opponent’s shots are straight, and he does not have to recite the alphabet in both directions before letting his hands go.
The point is I am really scared for Abraham. He is set to face his biggest challenge yet and, I’m afraid, it will prove insurmountable. Andre S.O.G Ward is one of the best fighters the super middleweight division has to offer. He is tough, resilient and extremely well-rounded. The way he stuck in there with Sakio Bika, winning a gritty inside battle with the rugged, dirty Cameroonian, opened a lot of eyes. Add to that his unparalleled destruction of Mikkel Kessler (no knockout, but who can argue it was not a destruction?), and you have a rare jewel the caliber of Joe Calzaghe.
Any way you slice it, Andre will not lose. He will dominate in this fight, as he said himself, “spectacularly”, and Abraham has no magical elixir in his fountains of the deep to prevent it from happening. Arthur is much more limited as a boxer, too slow, too crude to present a meaningful challenge to Ward. It is a fact of life and, forgive me my straightforwardness, is to be accepted as an axiom.
However, there is a very sad component to this story. I am not going to argue that Abraham at his best can be a challenge to a peak-condition Ward, as it is not very likely. The sadness springs from the fact that Abraham cannot perform at his peak as long as he continues to train in the same manner. I can almost guarantee you that no adjustments to Ward’s style will be made in Abraham’s training camp. He will come in with his usual high guard, stand by the ropes, and wing his roundhouse hooks only to find nothing but air in place of Ward.
As the Alcoholics Anonymous would say it, repeating the same thing and expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity. The boxer may be his own master in the ring, but the proper preparation for the bout is on the coach and frankly, it does not take a genius to see how hurtful Uli Wegner’s coaching style is to Arthur – the old German molds fighters into single-faceted hooligans, not World Champions. Take one look at Marco Huck, who is also under his tutelage, and you will understand precisely where the man stands on his training philosophy.
As for those, who will counter that, at his current age and skill level, Abraham is beyond repair, consider a few athletes who had demonstrated a remarkable turnaround in the latter stages of their careers. Wladimir Klitschko came back full circle to become a killing machine under Emanuel Steward, and Manny Pacquiao is a full-scaled Dragon Ball Z character under Freddie Roach. Mr. Roach (I know you read this website, I saw you here in our t-shirt!): save a soul, pick up the phone and call Arthur. Really, call Arthur Abraham! Teach him how to let his punches go, and show him some footwork that goes along with that. I guarantee you the country of Armenia will remember you in their prayers. That is just food for thought though, as it is too late for that now, at least in terms of the fight that is coming.
When Regular Joe bets numbers on roulette, he is hoping that his emotional choice, based neither on fact nor statistics, will somehow defy the laws of gravity and just happen, simply because it is a heartfelt “wish” of his. Well, sign me up on that illogical side of the column, as I, too, find myself wishing for the improbable. I am wishing that Arthur had detected and improved his limitations, that his unbelievable courage will overwhelm Andre Ward’s skill and toughness, giving us, the boxing fans, and a truly magic night to store in our memories. However, unlike Regular Joe, I am wishing it, but I am not betting on it. You see, I happen to be one of those cynical bastards that love to leave the casino with at least enough money to buy a chicken sandwich.