Welterweight boxer Manny Pacquiao
had a manageable time Saturday night defending his title in a bout with
Timothy Bradley. He connected with more punches, landed more telling
ones and was on his feet at the end. But then came the surprise: He had
lost. Two of the three judges ringside had Bradley winning seven of the
12 rounds.
An uproar ensued. The crowd at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas booed, Bradley admitted to being "shocked" and promoter Bob Arum offered to send the two majority judges to "the best eye doctor in the world."
Pacquiao's trainer, Freddie Roach, raised even darker possibilities than poor eyesight, suggesting that "something wasn't right." Critics demanded an investigation, but the head of the Nevada State Athletic Commission dismissed the idea, saying, "Every fighter who loses a close fight like that wants to look at the judges." It's worth noting that even the dissenting judge saw the fight as very close.
Any fight fan knows that controversial decisions are as much a part of boxing as gloves and speed bags. A boxer, unlike most athletes, has a foolproof way to guard against nearsighted officials: He can knock his opponent out, making the scorecards moot.
If he fails, though, the sport can be as maddening as any other that requires subjective judging. The outcomes in diving, gymnastics and synchronized swimming often leave spectators gaping in disbelief. (Well, maybe not synchronized swimming.) Remember the pairs figure skating uproar at the 2002 Olympics, which led to the suspension of a French judge and the awarding of two sets of gold medals?
The oddest thing about boxing, though, is that the fighters, trainers and spectators go through the entire contest without knowing the score. Baseball and football players know when points are scored, and if they lose track they can check the board. Gymnasts and divers find out after each attempt how they did and how they compare with their opponents. In boxing, though, the judges keep the marks to themselves until the results are announced at the end of the fight.
This practice seems terribly unfair, because it leaves the participants groping in the dark. A fighter who assumes he is leading may not press the attack as he might if he were getting beat. It can cause a contestant who mistakenly fears he's losing to take unnecessary risks. It also makes for particularly vehement responses when those watching find that the guy they saw kicking butt was, in the eyes of the judges, playing patty-cake.
There is no obvious justification for this quaint custom, aside from a blind adherence to tradition — and we do mean blind. If secret scoring were a good idea, wouldn't other sports have adopted it?
The people in charge of boxing should use this episode to move to a normal method of letting participants and spectators know where things stand. It wouldn't eliminate bad judging. But it would cut down on the surprises.
An uproar ensued. The crowd at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas booed, Bradley admitted to being "shocked" and promoter Bob Arum offered to send the two majority judges to "the best eye doctor in the world."
Pacquiao's trainer, Freddie Roach, raised even darker possibilities than poor eyesight, suggesting that "something wasn't right." Critics demanded an investigation, but the head of the Nevada State Athletic Commission dismissed the idea, saying, "Every fighter who loses a close fight like that wants to look at the judges." It's worth noting that even the dissenting judge saw the fight as very close.
Any fight fan knows that controversial decisions are as much a part of boxing as gloves and speed bags. A boxer, unlike most athletes, has a foolproof way to guard against nearsighted officials: He can knock his opponent out, making the scorecards moot.
If he fails, though, the sport can be as maddening as any other that requires subjective judging. The outcomes in diving, gymnastics and synchronized swimming often leave spectators gaping in disbelief. (Well, maybe not synchronized swimming.) Remember the pairs figure skating uproar at the 2002 Olympics, which led to the suspension of a French judge and the awarding of two sets of gold medals?
The oddest thing about boxing, though, is that the fighters, trainers and spectators go through the entire contest without knowing the score. Baseball and football players know when points are scored, and if they lose track they can check the board. Gymnasts and divers find out after each attempt how they did and how they compare with their opponents. In boxing, though, the judges keep the marks to themselves until the results are announced at the end of the fight.
This practice seems terribly unfair, because it leaves the participants groping in the dark. A fighter who assumes he is leading may not press the attack as he might if he were getting beat. It can cause a contestant who mistakenly fears he's losing to take unnecessary risks. It also makes for particularly vehement responses when those watching find that the guy they saw kicking butt was, in the eyes of the judges, playing patty-cake.
There is no obvious justification for this quaint custom, aside from a blind adherence to tradition — and we do mean blind. If secret scoring were a good idea, wouldn't other sports have adopted it?
The people in charge of boxing should use this episode to move to a normal method of letting participants and spectators know where things stand. It wouldn't eliminate bad judging. But it would cut down on the surprises.
No comments:
Post a Comment