by Jim Cawkwell

Photo © Josh Barron/FightWireImages.com

 

Undisputed middleweight champion is a hallowed boxing term. Unifying any division sets a fighter apart, but the historical significance of the middleweight class is something special. The weight of that significance seems to be an increasing burden upon Jermain Taylor; as if the shadows of his illustrious predecessors loom over him at every turn.

Defending the right to remain the middleweight champion against Kassim Ouma, Taylor appeared to possess all of the qualities - both physical and intangible - to legitimize his position, yet failed to resemble a champion of champions.

 

Within the last eighteen months of his career, Taylor has experienced immense changes in status and perception. As a rising contender of considerable potential, few questioned the assumption that he might one day compete amongst the very best middleweights. As soon as he did - and ended Bernard Hopkins’ historic run - those accepting of Taylor’s quality became sudden inquisitors as to its true depth. Subsequent showings have revealed Taylor’s tenuous hold on the championship and exposed him to criticism as a champion of greater fortune than force.

 

Of course, Taylor deserves applause for accepting the successive struggles against Hopkins, then Ronald Wright. But they were struggled indeed, and the price for remaining champion through them was the dormancy of all his aggressive, dominant and entertaining virtues.

 

Ouma’s presence marked the potential fulfillment of his own dream; though in reality, he was chosen to repair the rot that had set in Taylor’s reign. The logic was that if Taylor could not silence all his detractors, he could at least dampen their negative enthusiasm with a powerful performance against an opponent made to measure. The critics must have sung themselves hoarse by now.

 

The look on Emmanuel Steward’s face said it all. It was the same look that the grand, old trainer wore on many an occasion, usually after Lennox Lewis defended the heavyweight championship. It read: “Well, it was a win; though not the performance I wanted.”

 

Steward always strove to bring out the beast in Lewis. Throughout the isolation of his Poconos training camps, Lewis played chess to break the monotonous hours away from his preparations. However, what Lewis deemed relaxation, Steward felt was the gradual dissipation of his fighter’s killer instinct. When Lewis arrived at a critical moment in a fight, Steward wished him to negotiate it not with feelings but with flowing fists.

 

The evidence of Taylor’s performance against Ouma suggests that Steward’s work to construct the middleweight champion anew will involve much more than the mere confiscation of a chessboard.

 

Perhaps it is too early to expect a cohesive bond to have formed in the fledgling stages of this union, but undoubtedly, despite Taylor’s enthusiasm, he has failed to bring Steward’s theories into the flesh. His two outings under Steward’s guidance have seen him conflicted and ineffective.

 

Against Hopkins, Taylor’s motivation was clear; his Modus Operandi direct and purposeful. He was consistent, sharp and intense. The hard lessons that Hopkins administered later on seemed essential to Taylor’s education; situations no sparring session could replicate that he would absorb and from which he might prosper.

 

In contrast to what was expected, Wright couldn’t have made a more obvious target of himself, and yet, Taylor seemed unable to capitalize.

 

There were times against Ouma when Taylor approached center ring and delivered one-two combinations that threatened to put Ouma out of business; but then Taylor seemed to shrink back into himself, eager to comply with the idea of how he should fight instead of just fighting.

 

There is no doubt that Taylor won, though without the desired authority. He could not have held any greater physical advantage over Ouma, and still, round after round, Ouma remained undeterred, his characteristic pressure and volume punching unchecked by an opponent torn between his instincts as a fighter and the necessity to craft himself into a more complete boxer.

 

You could argue that Taylor was able to experiment and win without succumbing to a class opponent. But compared to the riddle of Hopkins and Wright, Ouma offered no mystery. The question was not whether Taylor would win, but how spectacular he would look. Such a performance from the champion does not inspire optimism for future collisions with Wright, or indeed, Joe Calzaghe.

 

One wonders that if Steward’s teachings cannot be absorbed, if Taylor would be better served returning to the basic aggression that brought him success in the first place. This stylistic no man’s land in which Taylor stands is no place for a fighter; certainly, not one competing at the highest level.

 

The sloppy defense, lack of balance, wild, wishful approach to punching and overall indecision under pressure seems to be not only a degeneration of the fighter Taylor used to be, but the hallmarks of a fighter that won’t long evade his first loss.

 

It’s natural to root for Taylor to overcome his deficiencies and reverse the criticism he’s received; however, the enduring memories of those great champions that came before him make it very difficult to accept his basic efforts as a fitting continuation of their fine tapestry of work.

 

The difference between the expectation and the reality of Taylor is becoming too great to ignore.

 

Contact Jim Cawkwell at jimcawkwell@yahoo.co.uk