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Ricky Hatton’s agenda was to secure his world light welterweight championship and prove his marquee potential to the international boxing community. However, his performance accomplished far more than that. He succeeded in exposing the moronic movements of the IBF, whose foolishness had stripped Hatton of his title in the first place, and afforded Juan Urango the chance to fight for it. At the Paris Hotel in Las Vegas, Hatton demonstrated the difference between being a champion as opposed to a “champion,” as he swept away ten of twelve rounds from the beleaguered Colombian.
Urango’s most significant contribution came in the form of a body assault that tore through Hatton in the fifth round and was perhaps the catalyst for the disappointment of the Englishman’s late-rounds clinching. But before being encouraged to throw single shots then hold for all he was worth throughout the majority of the final four rounds, Hatton gave American television a glimpse of the style that had been missing from his pure aggression since they began to take interest in his every move.
Unless you were a Stateside Hatton supporter fanatical enough to have mail-ordered his entire career on DVD, you had likely watched the last two years of Hatton’s career, and his attempted American invasion, with curiosity. You watched him and were expecting to see the fighter that British fans assured you was as much a boxer as a bruiser. During this period, none of Hatton’s victims received his hybrid of ferocity and finesse that characterized many earlier performances. Urango - now sans-championship - was the test subject.
Hatton bewildered Urango with an array of accurate punches from a variety of angles while keeping a constant, buzzing rhythm. And though concussive power was not evident, Hatton separated himself from comparisons to thoughtless, face-first brawlers by battering Urango then using smart footwork to do damage and disappear, making Urango seem, at times, like a spectator. [details]
Urango’s most significant contribution came in the form of a body assault that tore through Hatton in the fifth round and was perhaps the catalyst for the disappointment of the Englishman’s late-rounds clinching. But before being encouraged to throw single shots then hold for all he was worth throughout the majority of the final four rounds, Hatton gave American television a glimpse of the style that had been missing from his pure aggression since they began to take interest in his every move.
Unless you were a Stateside Hatton supporter fanatical enough to have mail-ordered his entire career on DVD, you had likely watched the last two years of Hatton’s career, and his attempted American invasion, with curiosity. You watched him and were expecting to see the fighter that British fans assured you was as much a boxer as a bruiser. During this period, none of Hatton’s victims received his hybrid of ferocity and finesse that characterized many earlier performances. Urango - now sans-championship - was the test subject.
Hatton bewildered Urango with an array of accurate punches from a variety of angles while keeping a constant, buzzing rhythm. And though concussive power was not evident, Hatton separated himself from comparisons to thoughtless, face-first brawlers by battering Urango then using smart footwork to do damage and disappear, making Urango seem, at times, like a spectator. [details]
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