In spite of a virtual plethora of organizations boasting their own version of a world title, most people would fail to name even one of the men who stake claim to a form of the fragmented heavyweight championship. WBA, WBC, IBF, WBO, IBO (quite possibly, another organization surfaced as this article was being written), does it matter anymore? angka tarung

Yet with at least five world heavyweight belts, can the casual observer name even one champion? If so, rest assured that person is in a rare group. Try naming two, three, or four. I’ll bet that my eight year old niece would have a better chance at naming all four Beatles.

Raised on boxing, I was lucky enough to see many of the sport’s greatest warriors, some in their prime. I sat transfixed in front of an enormous television that was set inside of a wooden cabinet. There were two round knobs to change the channels on the right side of the monstrosity, one for the UHF channels which regularly broadcast static.

Somewhere within the channel selection of 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, and 13, I witnessed Ali win his title back from Leon Spinks; Sugar Ray Leonard win the welterweight championship from Wilfred Benitez; Alexis Arguello fall to Aaron Pryor two times – I watched a few cartoons back then too.

As I grew into adulthood, the archaic television was upgraded to one with a remote control and the addition of a cable box. Between closed circuit TV and cable, my boxing fix was satisfied with wars from some of the greatest fighters to ever lace up gloves. Duran beat Leonard. Leonard beat Hagler. Hagler beat Hearns. Hearns beat Duran. These men all fought each other, and were so dominant that they only need to be referred by their last names to be recognized.

Is it really necessary to say “Mike” when speaking of Tyson? Nuff said.