Zab Judah pissed after he is knocked out
- 8 years ago
http://knockouts2sleep.com
On November 3, 2001, boxing champion Zab Judah fought Kostya Tszyu in a much-anticipated 140-pound title-unification bout.
Judah had turned pro in 1996 as an 18-year-old phenom with sparkling amateur credentials. He was 27-and-0 in the pay ranks with six title-fight victories and ranked in the top ten on most pound-for-pound lists. Power, speed, boxing savvy; Zab had it all. Some experts likened him to Pernell Whitaker, only Judah had more power.
"If you come down to 140 pounds, I'll knock you out," Zab told his friend, Mike Tyson.
Tszyu had some impressive victories on his ledger, but he'd been stopped by Vince Phillips. The assumption was that Judah would be too much for him.
A few fighters at Gleason's Gym in Brooklyn where Zab trained had a contrary view. Local boxers tend to support and believe in their own. But Judah was flawed, those fighters said. When he got hit hard in sparring, he spent the rest of the session on the run. Not just that one round, the entire session.
Sugar Ray Robinson was once asked what he liked least about boxing.
"Getting hit," the greatest fighter of all time answered.
That said, fighters get hit. It's how they respond that separates legends from also-rans.
"Tszyu will hit Zab with something hard," those fighters at Gleason's said. "And when that happens, the fight will turn."
Judah dominated round one. Then, in round two, Kostya hit him with "something hard" and knocked Zab out.
In the eleven years since then, Judah's record has been 15-and-8 with one no contest. During that time, he has lost eight of thirteen title bouts and been a poster boy for unfulfilled potential. When people think of Zab, they're more likely to think of his defeats at the hands of Tszyu, Floyd Mayweather, Miguel Cotto, Carlos Baldomir, and Amir Khan than his victory over Junior Witter. He has signature losses, not signature triumphs.
Judah is no longer fighting for greatness. He's fighting for money. He's 35 years old, and boxing is the only job he has ever known.
"I wish things had happened a little different," Zab said last year. "But we can't change the past."
Zab's latest "last chance" to regain a lofty standing in the boxing community came on April 27th against Danny Garcia at Barclays Center in Brooklyn.
Garcia, a Philadelphia native, came into the bout with a 25-and-0 record and a trio of 140-pound belts. He also brought his father, Angel, who has graduated from provocateur to embarrassment.
Angel, who trains his son, has a penchant for making racist comments and engaging in other unsportsmanlike conduct. He shoots his mouth off, and Danny has to back it up.
The low point of the December 1, 2012, kick-off press conference for Garcia-Judah was an ugly pushing and shouting match that ensued when Angel told the assembled media, "Every time Zab has stepped up, he lost. I figure this will go four or five rounds because he's a four-round fighter."
On November 3, 2001, boxing champion Zab Judah fought Kostya Tszyu in a much-anticipated 140-pound title-unification bout.
Judah had turned pro in 1996 as an 18-year-old phenom with sparkling amateur credentials. He was 27-and-0 in the pay ranks with six title-fight victories and ranked in the top ten on most pound-for-pound lists. Power, speed, boxing savvy; Zab had it all. Some experts likened him to Pernell Whitaker, only Judah had more power.
"If you come down to 140 pounds, I'll knock you out," Zab told his friend, Mike Tyson.
Tszyu had some impressive victories on his ledger, but he'd been stopped by Vince Phillips. The assumption was that Judah would be too much for him.
A few fighters at Gleason's Gym in Brooklyn where Zab trained had a contrary view. Local boxers tend to support and believe in their own. But Judah was flawed, those fighters said. When he got hit hard in sparring, he spent the rest of the session on the run. Not just that one round, the entire session.
Sugar Ray Robinson was once asked what he liked least about boxing.
"Getting hit," the greatest fighter of all time answered.
That said, fighters get hit. It's how they respond that separates legends from also-rans.
"Tszyu will hit Zab with something hard," those fighters at Gleason's said. "And when that happens, the fight will turn."
Judah dominated round one. Then, in round two, Kostya hit him with "something hard" and knocked Zab out.
In the eleven years since then, Judah's record has been 15-and-8 with one no contest. During that time, he has lost eight of thirteen title bouts and been a poster boy for unfulfilled potential. When people think of Zab, they're more likely to think of his defeats at the hands of Tszyu, Floyd Mayweather, Miguel Cotto, Carlos Baldomir, and Amir Khan than his victory over Junior Witter. He has signature losses, not signature triumphs.
Judah is no longer fighting for greatness. He's fighting for money. He's 35 years old, and boxing is the only job he has ever known.
"I wish things had happened a little different," Zab said last year. "But we can't change the past."
Zab's latest "last chance" to regain a lofty standing in the boxing community came on April 27th against Danny Garcia at Barclays Center in Brooklyn.
Garcia, a Philadelphia native, came into the bout with a 25-and-0 record and a trio of 140-pound belts. He also brought his father, Angel, who has graduated from provocateur to embarrassment.
Angel, who trains his son, has a penchant for making racist comments and engaging in other unsportsmanlike conduct. He shoots his mouth off, and Danny has to back it up.
The low point of the December 1, 2012, kick-off press conference for Garcia-Judah was an ugly pushing and shouting match that ensued when Angel told the assembled media, "Every time Zab has stepped up, he lost. I figure this will go four or five rounds because he's a four-round fighter."