The Klitschko anomaly
When Vitali Klitschko closed the door on boxing for three years in the nineties, something happened in the heavyweight division. It was able to air itself out, to refresh and catch its breath. It was able to manage and keep pace with only one Klitschko
in the mix.
Trouble is, a cursory look at the division today suggests those days are long over. Everything is in shambles: the quality of the competition, the nature of professional transactions, and the lack of international popularity. It wouldn’t be too much to
say the heavyweight division has become the new flyweight division in many ways.
And the reality is it’s all because of Wladimir and Vitali Klitschko.
When both of them reign, the heavyweight division suffers inexplicably. That's the golden rule. Good fights, if they are made at all, are outside of the monopolizing clutches of the Klitschkos. And good talent, should it make its way through the ranks,
is quickly seized by the prospect of an unimaginable Klitschko payday and then punched out into oblivion.
Whether or not you're for or against the Klitschkos, it has to be admitted things would be easier if they weren’t in the picture. Sure, they’ve shown that they can dominate the division. But anybody with a degree in dumb knows that, including the big time
trainers and experts. The problem is that their success doesn’t speak for itself. Ultimately it doesn’t make a compelling case for the continuation of their boring (albeit successful) careers.
Oscar De la Hoya recently turned heads with the insistence that he wants to turn boxing into a full-fledged monopoly whereby one commission, sanctioning body, and promoter run things. What De la Hoya didn't realize is that already exists in boxing, in the
form of the Klitschkos. They’re the symbolic embodiment of it all: they make the big plays, set the rules, and are the standard with which the relevant measurements are imposed. Everybody else, well, they just subsist.
The Klitschkos are problematic chiefly because they have decimated all recognizable competition. Without competition, there are no more pretences at fairness in the division. Others can try to maintain a kind of fairness, but ultimately it’s in vain.
David Haye learned that the hard way, when negotiations with the brothers fell apart. Haye claimed afterwards that he rejected offers with the Klitschkos because they were clearly stacked against him. He said he wasn’t treated with “parity.”
He has a point. Haye is the WBA heavyweight champion, regardless of his individual talents and competition he’s faced to earn that title. What he brought to the negotiating table, then, was the insight that what matters in the world isn't talents but formal
credentials. And in that way Haye did deserve parity with the Klitschkos, something he nevertheless didn't receive. Because as it goes, the guys with the most credentials make the rules and define the terms.
What’s worse is that because the Klitschkos have destroyed all viable competition and thereby set unfair terms, they’ve also destroyed the necessary incentives that inspire challengers to compete against them. Because nobody thinks they truly have a chance
against the Klitschkos, nobody takes a chance. Hence the example of Alexander Povetkin, who recently pulled out from a fight with Wladimir Klitschko with the admission he wasn’t ready, and this despite being a top rated heavyweight and winning every possible
accolade as an amateur.
The bizarre phenomenon of the Klitschkos has been that because they hold so much power and value in the division, it has all but become valueless for them and everybody else concerned. Their relevant titles have become entirely irrelevant, and that’s why
nobody cares when Wladimir takes on Samuel Peter, or some other chap with fifteen fights (HBO stopped caring long ago). Way to go Klitschkos!
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