More Con, Less Tender.

Though I was against the concept of the contender reality boxing series from the start, I watched the rematch special aired last night from the Staples Center in Los Angeles with an open mind. Trying to separate the fighters from the overall product, I concluded that at the very least, an event that attracted 15, 000 paid attendees, a good portion of new boxing converts and a potential television audience of millions could be nothing but good for boxing. However, predictably enough during the broadcast, all of the aforementioned benefits were squandered. It never ceases to amaze me that tens of thousands of people watching in some of the worst seats can concur with millions watching at home and agree on the winner of a fight, but the same task is beyond a panel of three judges scoring the fight from the best seats in the house. If form is anything to do with securing future assignments, Julie Lederman should not work a fight for a while. Lederman was not the only judge to swing and miss last night, but I believe she was the only arbiter to misjudge both the Bonsante-Brinkley pre-main event and the Mora-Manfredo, Jr. main event.

Bonsante entered the ring to erase the stoppage loss he suffered to Brinkley earlier this year and true to that ambition, he wore away at an out-of-shape Brinkley who fought in spurts early on, but overall, was clearly outworked by the busier and more accurate Bonsante. The cheers that accompanied Brinkley became a mere memory as Bonsante left the ring at the announcement of a truly disgusting decision. The jeers that rained down from the rafters of the Staples Center affirmed what the television cameras captured on Brinkley’s pained and disappointed expression at the bout’s conclusion. Perhaps the arena attendance truly was 15, 000 fans, as for the first time, a post-fight interview was booed out of existence and Brinkley was pictured in the backstage area ranting at the crowd’s damning of him. Bonsante reappeared to rapturous applause from the crowd, and though a happy ending eluded him this night, series creator Mark Burnett endorsed the consensus opinion flowing through the crowd; but then, he would. Closer to the heart of the matter, Bonsante faced up to Sylvester Stallone at ringside who offered token consolation with a simple, “You’re right, you won.”

The main event proved that boxing is reality enough without the executive decisions aimed at manufacturing a viable product for the public’s consumption. Nor do we need a second season of the contender to feature more mindless group games, abbreviated fight sequences that fail to tell the true story of a fight, or theatrical music to accentuate the drama. The daily plight of a boxer needs only a light shone upon it to illuminate the beauty and sacrifice of a man willing to put his health at stake to make a better life for his family. Neither Mora nor Manfredo, Jr. belongs in the company of today’s middleweight elite, but the contender does not have to masquerade their credibility nor that of the future contender participants. They are good young fighters trying to battle their way out of obscurity, out of poverty and into a better life. Last night, Mora and Manfredo, Jr. produced eight rounds of why that formula, though not good enough to be the world’s best, is definitely good enough television.

Then of course, when all exterior elements refuse to upend boxing’s best laid plans, it does the job more spectacularly itself. The Mora-Manfredo, Jr. fight entertained, it flowed back and forth. Manfredo, Jr. enjoyed the early success, cutting Mora and dominating behind an improved jab while Mora, in defense of his contender championship, waited and continually switched stance while bring outworked. The heat rose when they exchanged punches after the bell of the second of eight rounds, but Mora’s first real offensive came in the fifth. For the first minute and thirty-seconds of the round, Mora forced his way inside and delivered the most consistent barrage of punches thrown by either man in the entire fight. Manfredo, Jr. did not emerge with the fire he held in the early rounds, but he fought on even terms with Mora until the end. Both exhausted, it was clear that they had taken their toll upon each other, but Manfredo, Jr. won the fight. It was obvious – to everyone except the three judges scoring the fight.

Manfredo, Jr. swept Mora’s attempt at conciliation aside, saying: “Fuck that. You didn’t win that fight.” Thanks to the geographical advantage bestowed upon Mora this night, his Los Angeles crowd did not argue with the verdict. Boxing really is coming to something when a fighter, who has enough on his hands going into a fight, has to worry about changing his game-plan or natural style to accommodate the temper of a hostile crowd. This territorial issue seems minor in the grander context of the sport, but it affects how decisions are rendered on a global scale. As long as problems such as this run rampant throughout boxing, it will always struggle to attain its former prestige. Millions of uninitiated fans saw those decisions and Lord knows how quickly they were convinced to stay away from a sport whose adjudication system appears rife with ineptitude.

The sad thing is that we can’t even blame the likes of Burnett and Stallone, whose smiles were rarely wider than when the camera fixed upon them. They are out to make money from fighters, the most disadvantaged and downtrodden athletes in the sport’s spectrum, and they will, because unless you are exceptional fighter, there’s no better alternative waiting for you. Boxing will continue to hurt, to fight with itself and to propagate an image that does a great injustice to the real art and beauty that exists within it. That is the reality that we face.