Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

Benitez’s performance against Palomino shook the boxing world. For the second time in his career, Benitez had destroyed a highly respected champion who hadn’t lost in years. More significantly, it was evident during both fights that he was markedly better than these accomplished champions. Some started calling him already the greatest defensive fighter in the history of Boxing. Moreover, even in a sport where the premier athletes were often in their early to mid-twenties, the fact that Benitez was only nineteen years old was not lost on boxing observers who felt he could get even better.

After defending his title two months later with a unanimous decision victory over the Harold Weston who had earlier fought him to a draw, Benitez was firmly entrenched as the best welterweight in the world and a strong argument could be made that he was the best boxer in the world period . In 1979, Muhammad Ali, perhaps the greatest heavyweight of all time, had retired and while the new champion, Larry Holmes, was clearly the best heavyweight in the world, no one was willing to call him the best fighter in the world pound for pound . Carlos Monzon, the great middleweight champion (160 lbs.) who ruled seemingly forever (record 14 title defenses), had also retired two years earlier. Alexis Arguello was undoubtedly a great fighter at that time. The current junior-lightweight champion (130 lbs.) was, like Benitez, a two-time champion, having earlier vacated his featherweight crown (126 lbs.) to move up. Unlike Benitez, however, Arguello had lost fights (4) and had even been stopped. Nor was Arguello, who admittedly had scintillating, explosive power in either hand, casting into doubt the basic tenets of the sport.

But, in truth, any discussion of the world’s best fighters at the time must necessarily center on the welterweight division Benitez now ruled and the dark spectre of Roberto Duran was the new looming presence in that division. Duran was a maniacal, intensely malevolent fighter who won the lightweight crown (135 lbs.) in 1972 then mercilessly ruled that division for seven long years. During those years he held the crown without interruption while fighting a remarkable 38 times. Overall his record was 67-1 with 53 knockouts. His only defeat was a close nontitle decision loss to Puerto Rico’s Esteban DeJesus, a loss that so enraged Duran that he later fought DeJesus twice more and knocked him out cold each time. He was a vicious ruler too; after dismantling one opponent and sending him to the hospital he promised to not stop there and send him to the morgue if they fought again. The Panamanian’s “hands of stone” had terrorized the division to the point of boredom, so a couple of weeks after Benitez ascended to the throne, the twenty-seven-year-old Duran vacated the lightweight crown, skipped the junior-welterweight division altogether, and became a welterweight.

Also in the division was a twenty-year-old kid named Thomas “Hitman” Hearns. Hearns had won his first seventeen fights, all by knockout. Two months after Benitez beat Harold Weston by decision, Hearns fought Weston and iced him in the sixth round detaching Weston’s retina in the process and thereby ending its career.

But really the public had already decided on its favorite welterweight. Ray Leonard, with his Olympic background and telegenic smile, was seen as the miniature but logical successor to Muhammad Ali. This anticipated succession drew strength from the fact that Leonard was trained by Angelo Dundee, the man who had trained Ali throughout his brilliant career. Another Ali was probably too much to ask for, but with The Greatest gone Sugar Ray was clearly the most popular fighter in the sport. Moreover, his 25-0 record against good competition suggested there was ample substance behind the compelling style although many still stubbornly insisted he was a mere creation of Television. Whatever the truth, because of his star quality, Leonard was an attractive opponent. His appeal would draw the interest of that portion of the public not normally interested in Boxing and would therefore mean more money for the person across from him.

Benitez agreed to make his second title defense against Sugar Ray Leonard and the bout was scheduled for November 30, 1979, in Las Vegas, Nevada.

When the court officers finally brought Soldera out, before the judge had even arrived, he looked like partially-inflated skin. He smiled at me when our eyes met which made no sense. Was it just that they were the first friendly ones he’d seen in a while? Did he think their owner could help him, that deluded?

I played my role and asked what had happened that day when he stepped out for a purported second then vanished. He tried. He said he’d gotten sudden sick then attempted to call but… a-series-of-un-related-words-that-could-never-combine-to-form-exculpatory-sense. Then he stopped and just shrugged his shoulders as we both seemed to implicitly acknowledge the futility of him breathing more lonely falsities into the air.

I tried to get him out, tried to reverse a force no more forgiving than gravity. I told Cymbeline what had happened, why it wasn’t faultless Soldera’s fault. Why he should be released and restored to what he was before that day, that is, a collection of crooked bones tortured and punished by her whenever its physical condition improved. I expressed remorse on behalf of another which it then occurred to me was probably not strictly possible.

Nonetheless I continued, afraid to stop. She mostly said nothing but when she did utter something, I would seize on the slightest word, the slightest hope, and run off in that direction. She never stopped me. She would look at her watch then through me. The court reporter kept up her soundless typing and I kept going. The court officers rolled their eyes, they wanted to go home and I was the only thing stopping them. Even when I thought I was done, I found I could keep going. I knew I was making a fool of myself and should just shut up but I couldn’t. I was mentally pretending I was trying to talk myself out of going to jail and operating under this hypothetical there was nothing I wouldn’t say. Nothing too stupid. Until at longest last there was nothing more I could think of, damn limited brain, and I stopped speaking.

Cymbeline summed up. The defendant had been given a break by a previous judge. Because of his medical condition he’d been allowed to remain out, following his plea of guilty and pending his sentence, provided he produced intermittent medical updates, stayed out of trouble, and continually returned to court. Despite this opportunity, the defendant had failed to return to court and no reasonable and believable excuse had been provided. Moreover, there was ample reason to believe that the defendant’s physical condition was not as bleak as had been painted by defense counsel. Consequently, there was no reason why the defendant could not be sentenced in accordance with the statutory sentencing requirements relevant to Criminal Sale of a Controlled Substance in the Fourth Degree a class C felony with a mandatory minimum sentence, under these circumstances, of 3 to 6. The defendant was remanded. The case was adjourned for exactly four weeks for the Department of Probation to prepare a presentencing report and for the defendant to be sentenced. Take charge court officers.

Soldera gone, Cymbeline then looked at me intently. She had the appearance of someone who had handled a minor detail and was now ready to get to the fun part. “Now that that’s out of the way,” she said, “the only thing left to consider, as I’m sure you’ve been made aware by your supervisors, is your conduct counselor.”

My conduct I wondered? Was I now being accused of possessing stolen property as well?

“Very good. Keep it up counselor, it’s remarks like that that have gotten you into this situation. I’m sure Judge Arronaugh will be interested to hear that you’re continuing the conduct that serves as the basis for her complaint.”