MARCO ANTONIO BARRERA W12 NASEEM HAMED
MGM Grand, April 7, 2001
BY GRAHAM HOUSTON
SOMETIMES the ingredients for an upset are there and an observer doesn’t always see them.
So it was when Prince Naseem Hamed entered the ring for his featherweight 12-rounder against Marco Antonio Barrera at the Grand Garden Arena, situated in the MGM Grand casino hotel, on April 7, 2001.
Hamed brought a 35-0, 31 KOs, record into the fight. He was the obvious favourite. It’s worth recalling that Hamed in his prime was fast, flashy, had lightning-like reflexes and seemed possessed with almost unnatural hitting power from out of his southpaw stance.
However, the brash and bold Sheffield showman had been exhibiting signs of slippage. The Prince had an ugly win over Mexico’s Cesar Soto in a messy fight. And, in Hamed’s last fight before meeting Barrera, huge underdog Augie Sanchez appeared to drop him in the second round although the referee ruled a slip.
Barrera, meanwhile, had, just four months before meeting Hamed, delivered probably the most poised and polished performance of his career in stopping Jesus Salud on a corner retirement after six rounds.
A former 122-pound champion, Salud had won eight fights in a row but the Filipino-Hawaiian boxer never stood a chance against a Barrera who seemed to reach a new level.
True, the New Yorker Junior Jones had twice defeated Barrera and even stopped him in the fifth round in their first meeting (but recorded as a DQ because Barrera’s handlers entered the ring with the round still in progress). But Barrera seemed to be a new fighter now: strong, smart, well-balanced in all areas.
And there were worrying signs emanating from the Hamed camp. Hamed chose to train for the fight in the luxury surroundings of Bing Crosby’s former estate at Rancho Mirage, a California enclave of the rich and privileged 11 miles from the upscale desert community of Palm Springs. Barrera, meanwhile, was grinding away in almost spartan surroundings at Big Bear in the San Bernardino mountains east of Los Angeles.
Hamed had two trainers for the fight, with the great Emanuel Steward working essentially in an advisory capacity alongside Oscar Suarez, a New Jersey trainer of Puerto Rican heritage.
Steward didn’t come right out and say it but it was clear in the weeks leading up to the big night that he didn’t have a good feeling about what always figured to be Hamed’s toughest fight. The Rancho Mirage residence with its chandeliers, swimming pool, miniature golf course and rich-life trappings didn’t seem ideal for big-fight preparation. Also, as Emanuel later told me, he felt that Hamed didn’t spar nearly enough rounds.
Hamed’s focus was questioned by reporters who were invited to meet the Prince at his training quarters. “When I went to Hamed’s camp — this is really psychological here — he was about an hour and a half late before he even showed up to work out,” reporter Steve Kim remembered. “This was in a very ritzy neighbourhood. Every home a million-dollar home.”
And Barrera’s camp? “The thing that really struck me was, the day we went there, all Barrera worked on was shadow boxing and punching off his back foot — and counter punching,” Kim related.
“Everything was really about defence and fundamentals and working off the jab. So I knew the plan was, at least at this point, to counter punch and really box, and move away from Hamed’s left-hand counter.
“I thought that technically, preparation-wise and psychologically, Barrera had a huge advantage in all three of those areas.”
But Kim was one of the few who picked Barrera to win.
Hamed was installed as a 2/5 (-250 in US odds] favourite at the MGM Grand sportsbook.
At the weigh-in the day before the bout, Hamed, 27, sauntered across the stage to cheers from the large contingent of British fans, seemingly with all the confidence in the world. Barrera, also 27, looked every inch the calm professional.
For the first time I noticed that although Barrera was moving up from 122 to 126 pounds he looked not only taller but actually bigger than Hamed. Meanwhile, money came in on Hamed in the hours before the fight — perhaps from UK bettors — pushing his price to the 2/7 range.
As ever at a big Vegas fight night there was a buzz of expectation in the air. Chris Eubank rocked up, natty in a brown leather bomber jacket, jodhpurs and riding boots and carrying an ornate walking stick. “I’d go anywhere to watch a good fight — even Mars,” he told me.
Like most people, I believed Hamed would win but, seated at ringside and with the fight drawing ever closer, I had an uneasy feeling.
The crowd of 12,847 grew restless waiting for the fight to start. One of Hamed’s hands was re-wrapped; it seemed the original wrapping didn’t feel right to Hamed. The backstage scenes were being shown on the arena’s big TV screens. It seemed to me that Hamed looked tense, uncharacteristically worried. In Barrera’s dressing room the Mexican fighter was smiling and looking relaxed.
Finally, an hour after the last preliminary bout had ended, Hamed was ready. His entrances had always been of the spectacular variety but, for his first appearance in Las Vegas, he promised something extra special. He was to “fly” to the ring on a trapeze-like apparatus.
And so Hamed began his descent from high above the arena floor. I immediately noticed he had an uneasy look — and who could blame him? It was a long way down. His entrance had ringsiders gasping. Then something disquieting happened. A spectator threw liquid at him — presumably beer — from a plastic cup. Hamed turned in the perpetrator’s direction and mouthed some angry words. He looked rattled. There were jeers as well as cheers.
Once at ground level, Hamed dismounted and stepped onto the ring apron. We awaited his customary forward-flip over the ropes. Hamed grasped the top rope with his gloves, hesitated, and then stepped through the ropes, almost as if he had lost his nerve at the last moment.
All of this didn’t augur well for Hamed’s chances against surely the best fighter he had faced.
Hamed had vacated his WBO featherweight title so that he could meet Barrera on PPV rather than make a mandatory defence against a lesser opponent in Hungary’s Istvan Kovacs. The IBO title was at stake to give the Barrera fight championship status.
And once the fight got underway it was clear that Hamed was in big trouble. Barrera stood back and boxed, using his height and reach. His left jab was keeping Hamed on the outside. Suddenly Barrera landed a left hook and Hamed’s body seemed to go floppy. He flashed a sickly grin that told us he had been hurt. Barrera was stone-faced.
This had been a dream start for Barrera, who, to my surprise, looked like the puncher in the fight.
As the rounds went by, Barrera pulled further and further ahead on points. Hamed did land some heavy shots but Barrera was able to take them.
Barrera was steady and disciplined, solid as a rock in his technique. Hamed fought with his hands by his sides, even seeming to sneer at his tormentor. He waved his right glove as if trying to hypnotise his opponent. For Hamed supporters, the hope was that even if behind on points he might be able to land a fight-changing blockbuster. But Barrera was steadfast, boxing in the classic manner, his punches thrown with perfect form.
Still, it wasn’t all Barrera, all the time. A left hand had Barrera’s nose bloody in the third round. Hamed landed another solid left hand in the fifth, but Barrera merely gestured to him to bring it on.
In the sixth we saw one of those little moments that can encapsulate a contest: Hamed landed a punch on the break and Barrera cracked him with a corrective left hook.
Hamed couldn’t outbox Barrera, couldn’t blow him out and he couldn’t bully him. A right hand in the eighth round had Hamed holding the top rope. But Hamed still had his bravado. He grinned, he even sneered, and he tapped his chin in the: “I can take it!” manner.
And Hamed had one of his better rounds in the 10th, winning the round on all three judges’ cards with a gutsy rally. But Barrera was back in charge in the last two rounds.
Referee Joe Cortez told the judges to take a point from Barrera’s score when the Mexican fighter ran Hamed head first into a corner post as the two men tangled in a clinch — unnecessary rough stuff in the final round of a fight that was already won. But the deduction made no difference to the result: the judges had Barrera winning by scores of 115-112, 115-112 again and 116-111.
“I thank God for coming out nice and safe — we’re both safe,” a gracious Hamed said afterwards. “I give him the fight, basically — not that I give it, he won the fight, clearly, in my eyes.
“I didn’t box to the best of my ability. I would honestly say that credit’s due to him. I’m not nowhere as sad as I thought I would be. If that’s what’s written to me from Allah, it’s written. And if I get to find out the reason, I get to find out. And if I don’t, I don’t.
“Marco won the fight and he deserves all the credit in the world.”
Nice one, Naz.
It was approaching midnight when I took the elevator to the 11th floor of the MGM where my room was situated. A tired-looking Emanuel Steward rode the elevator with me. “Everything I was afraid that could happen, did happen,” Emanuel told me. “But I really don’t want to talk right now.”
