Shameful faker. Outright malingerer. Keeping the "con" in ex-convict.
And those are the nice things people are saying about Bernard Hopkins, the boxing Methusaleh who was not even fitted for goat horns--they were placed upon his furrowed brow and above his dislocated left shoulder in the immediate wake of Saturday night's debacle against Chadwick Dawson at the Staples Center.
(Geez, how can it be the Staples Center, named after the office product chain, didn't have someone with a stapler to rehinge Bernie's separated shoulder?)
Look, I'm not saying that Hopshoulder, er I mean Hoponyourback....I mean Hopkins doesn't deserve much of the opprobium he's receiving after this farcial PPV TV pain event of the evening.
But, pray tell, why the party of the second part, Mr. Dawson, is getting a free pass and continues to hold the shiny, green and gold WBC 175 pound belt?
Dawson, who seem more concerned with "exposing" a nearly 50 year old man as a faux "gangsta" than how the public got cheated, is just as guilty as Ole Popkins, a less than affectionate nickname that I think originated with Joe Calzaghe, is for this mess.
It didn't exactly bring back fond light heavyweight memories of Bullet Bob Foster, Michael Spinks or Billy Conn. I'm talking about how Dawson copped Don Jose Sulaiman's trinket.
Perhaps, and I am totally serious, boxing needs a no body slam rule with the threat of DQ or at least a two point penalty for the slammer going forward. You make like Hulk Hogan twice, you get disqualfied.
Even though Hopkins was making his lucha libra moves and seemed to want to ride the 29 year old's back as though he was a merry go round pony, what rigbt did that give Dawson to tackle him?
None, of course, is the proper answer.
The ref, in this case, ex-San Diego PD detective Pat Russell, is a disciplinary committee of one between the ropes.
(Aside: I think the jaded Hopkins was misled by Russell's prefight dressing room instructions, which concluded with Russell telling Grandpa Hopkins "I will let you work in there..."
It's possible that Hopkins, not only a storied on his way to the Hall Of Fame and maybe also the Hall of Shame fighter but also an officer of LA-based Golden Boy Promotions, took that as a no and a wink from the referee, a green light to indulge in his usual in ring theatrics and monkeyshines.)
I wonder if the putrid smell of this ending is pending fumugation at the downtown LA sporting palace.
Because, no matter how you slice it, there is enough blame to go around for Hopkins, Dawson and Russell.
Russell should've given Hopkins a full five minutes of recovery time.
Russell should've issued a stern warning to Dawson for his NFL middle linebacker move and told both boxers "I am the sheriff in this town."
If Hopkins refused to fight after five minutes, then Russell should have swiftly declared the bout a no contest.
Instead of any sort of reprimand, Dawson passed "go," collected his purse and the WBC stap.
And California commission chief George Dodd, who was probably wishing he had remained in sleepy Washington State, should have backed Russell on the NC ruling.
Dawson should've complained about Hopkins grappling to Russell or left the griping to his chief second, John Scully.
Hopkins is an old dog wth no new tricks so he resorts to the tried and tested ones which have had success for him in the past.
The whole thing was a three car collision so I'm assigning blame as they might in a lawsuit concernign same.
I find BHop 15 percent liable for trying to mount Chadwick.
I find Russell 25 percent liable for losing the plot completely.
I find Dawson up the creek, yes Dawson's Creek, minus a paddle. I find the initator, the man who tried to throw Hopkins out in the ringside lap of Manny Pacquiao, 60 percent culpable.
On this night, Bad Chad turned into Cad Chad.
Dawson's move was hardly "gansta." His vehement, post fight babble shows that, indeed, Hopkins did get into his head beforehand.
So who's "gangsta" anyway? This is a sport with a rich history and well established, if sporadically enforced rules not a drive by in Compton. (As comic Robin Harris liked to say, "Compton...where the cost of living is going up and the chance of living is going down." No disrespect to all my homies in the CPT and Long Beach.)
As far as I know, real gansgters don't mug senior citizens.
After this night of Pay Per Phew, the stink continues.
But Hopkins is not the lone donkey here. Feel good story Dewey Bozella is an innocent party but not these three mugs.
Just sayin'.
(mlcmarley@aol.com)
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