By Jim Cawkwell

 

If we could put a face to the sinister individual that none of us would wish to meet down the infamous dark alley, it might belong to Erik Morales. Not because his features are particularly unpleasant, but because he is “El Terrible.” Just as the macho myths of Roberto Duran linger, so too will stories of Morales echo long after his final bow. Who else could park an automobile worth more than most homes outside a gym in one of Tijuana’s toughest areas, and emerge hours later to find the vehicle completely untouched?

 

He is the product of innumerable gym wars. The result of hundreds of impoverished Tijuana kids that escaped the streets to an environment offering discipline, self-esteem, and a fleeting promise of success and riches to the improbable few that might elevate themselves above the unfortunate many.

 

Whether through fearsome reputation, or the weight of historic achievements, Morales was always an overbearing presence on his contemporaries. His sharpness of punch was matched only by the strength of his insults, both of which he used for the physical and mental dissection of some of the world’s best fighters. He was a sneering, snarling predator whose business was the assembly of a grand legacy one bloody and brutal encounter at a time.

 

Though his private manner may be calm, even intellectual, it has never deceived the coarse persona and savage ring reputation he constructed. He did not conceal his dislike of opponents, and could not concede defeat at the hands of another’s superiority.

 

Selective quotations from Spanish translators made Morales the fighter seem civilized; however, he was as concerned with political correctness as he was with the plight of his opponent. He has unapologetically inflicted depraved taunts and insults to inflame his rivals, and posed over the prone form of a battered victim as would a hunter with his prized kill.

Morales was born and bred into the hurt business. To this day, there are few more suited to it. Many have fallen before him, yet now, after suffering the inconceivable at the hands of Manny Pacquiao this year, it seems at last that the executioner’s head lies upon the guillotine.

 

Pacquiao expects to secure his own legend by ending another. But Morales does not greet the potential end of his great legacy with trepidation. He beckons it, understanding the nature of the war he must unleash. For the final battle, he asks us to believe in him once more. Knowing his passion, it’s difficult not to grant that request.

 

It began in 1997. Naseem Hamed’s Jamaican rude-boy gangsta act and pre-fight theatrics mobilized a new wave of British interest in the noble art and threatened to invade America. Morales’ ascension to championship status through Daniel Zaragoza, and Marco Antonio Barrera’s proven pedigree affirmed that the Arab Prince’s quest for legitimacy must pass through a Mexican champion. The Millennium brought us Barrera-Morales I, and the end of Hamed’s legendary ambitions.

 

With relief, we British saw Morales take another path, hoping that Hamed would pick the scraps of an already damaged Barrera. No such luck. Barrera administered a clinical unraveling of Hamed’s pretensions. The threat of Morales was ominous enough to inspire belief that had he taken Barrera’s place, Hamed would have lost much more than his dignity.

 

A study of the ensuing six years of Morales’ career reveals an astonishing procession of former and future world champions, often fought in immediate succession. Such a schedule would test the very fabric of any champion’s will, but to this day, Morales will not relent. Furthermore, and central to the debate over Morales’ greatness is his complete unwillingness to utilize the skills and techniques that would surely have delivered him from the punishment he has incurred in his long years of battle.

 

Morales’ fighting philosophy is far removed from the calculated exhibition recently shown by his nemesis, Barrera. After years of warfare, Morales faced a technical challenge in Zahir Raheem; so disinterested was the Mexican that one half expected him to pay homage to the “Hands of Stone” with a “no mas” of his own. But when Morales returned to his favored environment for the Pacquiao rematch, Pacquiao was ready to oblige exactly the kind of fight in which Morales had always thrived.

 

The prevailing memories of their first fight are of Pacquiao’s electric power penetrating Morales’ guard, forcing him to retreat, quickly followed by Morales maniacally propelling himself forward, chasing Pacquiao across the ring in a blaze of fury, battering him as he went.

 

Seeking redemption as, “The Mexican Assassin,” Pacquiao rededicated himself, revitalizing his inventory of punches so long neglected. He found within the determination to produce a performance to match the immense standards that fighting Morales demanded. In doing so, Pacquiao gave us the unprecedented sight of a fallen Morales, unable to see the end of battle under his own volition. It evoked belief that the end of the fight was indeed the end of Morales altogether.

 

Morales’ supporters argue that the rematch saw their man so depleted by weight loss that he was unable to sustain his original intensity. Perhaps, but Pacquiao was exceptional. No other 130-pound fighter could have torn through Morales as did Pacquiao that night. Therefore, Morales, the conqueror of so many, approaches his own day of pugilistic reckoning.

 

He must glean a measure of satisfaction in facing Pacquiao, a superstar whom he has once beaten, and whom Barrera desperately seeks. As such, Morales can find motivation to seize two measures of revenge with one victory, and retire having done his part to diminish the standings of both his famous rivals.

 

However, a success story though it is, Morales’ career contains its share of low points. Much of these have manifested as a result of supposed training mishaps leading to listless and subdued performances. To accomplish his final feat, he cannot afford a miscalculation for several reasons.

 

Top Rank spent years applying themselves to the promotion of Morales, at the eternal expense of fighters such as the Marquez brothers, Rafael and Juan Manuel, who themselves offered a scintillating combination of precision and power. Today, with, Jose Luis Castillo’s suspension, and Floyd Mayweather, Jr. having bought out his own contract from Bob Arum, Morales carries the burden of being one of the last cash cows of a beleaguered company of potential stars (Kelly Pavlik, Vanes Martirosyan, Juan Manuel Lopez), and current champions as yet unable to demand marquee purses (Miguel Cotto, Antonio Margarito).

 

Consider also the fact that former Arum protégé and current rival Oscar de la Hoya’s Golden Boy Promotions snatched Pacquiao out from under Top Rank as the Filipino courted offers to end his promotional free agency, and you have even greater natural opposition between the two camps.

 

Great pressure is on Morales to arrive at 130-pounds healthy and ready to fight hard. So much so that in the weeks preceding his actual training camp, he underwent the rigors of an additional training period in which he was exposed to a variety of new techniques to alleviate his monumental struggle with weight.

 

As a fighter that toiled throughout the lower weight classes, Morales’ career earnings are substantial but modest in comparison to those fighters of naturally greater girth but lesser talent. He cannot afford the several 100-thousand dollar penalties he will gift to Pacquiao for every pound he exceeds the contracted weight limit.

 

But there is also pressure for Pacquiao. Another loss to Morales brings not shame, and perhaps not even an interruption to his future plans, but certainly a revision of his placing in the mythical pound-for-pound stakes.

 

Despite his genuine superstar status, Pacquiao retains a carefree disposition that endears him to the countrymen whom follow him with such vigor. Seemingly innocent, perhaps even gullible, Pacquiao’s career has suffered numerous intrusions due to overly publicized disputes with managers and promoters.

 

In acquiring Pacquiao’s services, Golden Boy themselves were naïve enough to believe that they could contain their private dealings with him. The subsequent media frenzy assured them otherwise. It is now understood that Pacquiao, for the foreseeable future, is attached to Golden Boy, and that there is a boundless international enthusiasm for Pacquiao that precludes him from attending to his business under normal circumstances.

 

Assuming they are both able to prepare adequately, the argument will end as it should in the ring. Authoritative as he was last time, Pacquiao should understand that he can take nothing for granted. We have never seen Morales in such a confined position, and should expect him to produce a renewed ferocity in trying to fight his way out.

 

Though Morales dominated much of their first bout with his jab and penetrating right hands, he did just enough to win the majority of the heated moments to take the decision, but could not resist dicing with danger by switching to southpaw and trading hard shots with Pacquiao to the amazement of the crowd.

 

Pacquiao will go to the body and attempt to take Morales’ legs out from under him. But as inevitable as Pacquiao’s power seems, Juan Manuel Marquez once wrote a script on how to administer Pacquiao a boxing lesson. It is one that that Morales must heed. The perennial squanderer of natural gifts can still go to war, but in selected spots that do not compromise the overall command he can maintain with his innate technical superiority.

 

It is a fight in which victory is no formality for either man, and a true marquee event befitting the courage and quality of a fighter whose name is burned into the history of a remarkable fighting nation. But if he chooses to forego a prudent strategy, the way of the fight may simply depend on just how much pain Morales can endure and keep fighting back.

 

Sí este es el fin, que maravillosa vuelta fue!

 

Contact Jim Cawkwell at jimcawkwell@yahoo.co.uk