Can You Live in a World Where Wladimir Klitschko is an All-Time Great?
Relax! I'm not saying he is...yet.
But what if he was?
What happened last Saturday, September 11, has become a familiar sight in the world of heavyweight boxing. Once again a member of the Brothers Klitschko relentlessly pounded on another hopeless victim, wearing them down to an eventual late round knockout. This time, it was younger brother Wladimir. There was no serious drama; no particularly flashy displays of speed or athleticism. Just another methodic breakdown of a severely disadvantaged opponent who could never get beyond the punishing onslaught of jabs and straight rights coming from the six-foot-seven giant in front of them.
And once again, the American public showed little interest.
Maybe it's because he shares the titles with his brother. Maybe it's because he's not from the United States. It could be because his style is not the most thrilling or comes with little flair, but one thing that is for certain is that Wladimir Klitschko is this era's dominant heavyweight champion. It's been fourteen fights since he last lost. Since his first fight with Sam Peter, you'd be hard pressed to find a round that he didn't win. And in that same time, he's knocked out all but one of his opponents.
Did I mention that he has ten consecutive title defenses?
That's right – TEN! That's more than Tyson. More than Frazier. More than Foreman. More than Marciano. More than most of whom we consider the greatest heavyweights of all time. The total number of title defenses in his entire career comes out to fifteen if you count the WBO belt he won after his first fight with Chris Byrd.
So then why do people seem to have such a hard time accepting Wladimir Klitschko for what he is, and what he seems very possible to become?
Some might say that he fought during a weak era, but few would argue that Al McCoy would have posed more of a threat than Eddie Chambers. And in case you're wondering (which you likely are), Al McCoy was one of the many stiffs fed to Joe Louis during his reign, and he happened to lose three of his last four fights prior to being awarded that title shot.
It could have something to do with Wladimir being from outside the United States, but then that didn't stop the public demand leading to his brother, Vitali, being given an eight-figure offer for an HBO pay-per-view rematch against Lennox Lewis. Wladimir will always be at a disadvantage for not having a career-defining passing of the torch victory like most popular champions achieve at some point, but six years and ten title defenses later, you'd think fight fans could watch his fights without having to stream them off the internet.
HBO now refuses to air virtually any of his fights. Most people on the street would not be able to tell you he's the heavyweight champion, and many within the boxing community refuse to recognize him as one, no matter how many belts he wears.
But these are all symptoms, not the problem. So then, why is it so hard for people to accept Wladimir Klitschko as this era's dominant heavyweight champion?
The reason is because while most people seem to forget all of Wladimir's accolades, they can't forget all of those times he let them down. They can't forget that image of him stumbling around the ring out of exhaustion as a journeyman fighter in Ross Puritty "punished" him at the end of their fight with a series of glancing blows before his corner threw in the towel. They can't forget that look of bewilderment on his face as Corrie Sanders seemed to floor him with every punch he landed. And they can't forget that seemingly sedated creature, blank-faced and mouth-gaping, struggling to rise from the canvas and trudge his way back to the corner at the end of round five against Lamon Brewster.
These are all embarrassing moments from losses that many within the boxing world refuse to ever forgive him for. To them, he will always be a time bomb waiting to implode; a house of cards ready to collapse at the slightest sign of disarray.
Every time somebody watches a Wladimir Klitschko fight, and every time an oddsmaker debates how heavy a favorite he is, the "Wladimir Factor" weighs in. The contingency is that at any point in the fight, no matter how dominant he looks, or how many rounds up on the scorecards he is, something might once again trigger another panic attack and his eventual demise. To his critics, this would just expose him as the fraud that they feel he is. Ten title defenses and 85% knockout ratio be damned – he is just another fringe contender whose champion façade is just waiting to be shattered if any half decent heavyweight could manage to work his way inside the Klitschko shell and land something clean. If it's not the glass jaw that will get him, the ensuing anxiety attack surely will.
That's not what many boxing fans want in their heavyweight champion. For their guy to be truly dominant, there can be no shred of doubt any time he steps in the ring. The Wladimir Factor prevents this and thus his critics refuse to accept him. And before the general public can accept him, the hardcore boxing fans must endorse him first.
Mike Tyson can be forgiven for his loss to Buster Douglas - it was after ten grueling rounds of punishment surrounded by a whirlwind of life drama. It's okay that George Foreman stumbled across the ring in Zaire from a right hand, because Muhammad Ali was on the other end of it. But to many boxing fans, spectacular losses on a record with corresponding names like Puritty and Brewster before a fighter is past their prime can never be forgiven, and certainly not forgotten.
It's time to move on. Many great fighters have come from less-than-spectacular moments earlier in their careers. Muhammad Ali's legend could have been derailed by Henry Cooper's left hook had he not been saved by the bell. Lennox Lewis struggled to get recognition throughout his career and didn't do himself any favors by being on the receiving end of two one-punch knockouts. Perhaps if HBO had hyped Manny Pacquiao as the next big thing and then aired footage of him getting knocked out from a body shot, the public wouldn't have such an easy time recognizing him as the force of destruction that he is.
It's time to accept that Wladimir Klitschko is a great champion regardless of what happened earlier in his career, or what might happen later. No more speculating "what if" on hypothetical situations against opponents he'll never face. No more blaming him for his competition not being of the caliber from the golden era of the 70's. No more using his brother's presence as an excuse to deflate his success. No more going out of your way to find any reason possible as to why he shouldn't be recognized for the success he's achieved thus far.
For the haters, here's a scary thought – imagine that the next five years of Wladimir's career looked like the past five. Taking on all comers, fighting twice a year, dominating twice a year. It's certainly possible – his brother is that age right now and still looks to be in his prime. Outside of David Haye, who despite his rabid fan base has done little to justify himself as a serious threat, there aren't many making serious waves on the heavyweight horizon.
That would give Wladimir twenty consecutive title defenses, tied with Larry Holmes and far more than any other heavyweight not named Joe Louis.
Could you dispute his greatness then? History tends to age champions like a fine wine, viewing them more favorably years after they've retired and the scent of their public image no longer taints their record. Years since his hostility with the media, critics can now fully appreciate Larry Holmes' long reign as champion. Just seven years after his retirement, Lennox Lewis is more often seen as the man who beat every opponent he ever faced, rather than as a china-chinned expatriate who played chess and drank tea.
Sadly though, to many who have witnessed the Klitschko era, no amount of title defenses or complete dominance over the competition could ever move him beyond the shame of his previous losses. To some, the debacle after the first Lamon Brewster fight, that at one point escalated to Emanuel Steward being suspected of poisoning Wladmir's water bottle, has left far too deep an impression.
And for those critics, they must except the very real possibility that Wladimir Klitschko may one day be placed among the same elite status as Ali and Frazier.
Can you live in a world where Wladimir Klitschko is an all-time great?