To watch a fight is to watch uncertainty. The outcome is usually never assured until the fight is over. But there was no uncertainty or intrigue regarding the outcome of the fight between Daniel Geale and Anthony Mundine.
Knowing the outcome didn’t dim the excitement. For the first time in eighteen months I was going to watch a fight as it happened. There was the distant hope that one of the combatants would be knocked out.
For the first time in months I was talking boxing with friends who aren’t traditional boxing fans. These were exciting chats. Although I love boxing, with the exception of a few people, it isn’t a love often shared. The fight gave me a platform to preach to anyone who would listen, Geale will win on points.
That prediction isn’t just because Mundine is perhaps the most reviled athlete in Australia. That dislike transcends sport. He is possibly the most reviled man in the country. He doesn’t polarise the community, it’s actually much worse than that. Most people hate him and have done ever since he was playing rugby league.
This should come as no surprise. Mundine claims to be Australia’s best athlete ever. The boast is insulting and bewildering. He isn’t Australia’s best rugby league player and he will never be regarded as the nation’s best fighter. His elevated sense of achievement is also excruciating to listen to.
And while humans are prone to lying to friends and family, we don’t consume lies as easily. Mundine has been lying to Australian’s for years. Hating him has become an Australian past time. I didn’t hear one person admit to supporting Mundine before the fight. Everyone I talked to wanted Geale to knock him out.
Mundine certainly has talent as a fighter. He isn’t a slouch, but he’s been heavily protected his entire career. One can’t overlook the quality of his handpicked opponents. No one can ignore the gibberish that sprouts from his petulant gob. Still, he has been willing to get into the ring and fight.
Without question he is Australia’s best crossover athlete. No one else has played football successfully and transcended their ability to boxing like Mundine has. A few have tried, and more will, but among the current crop of crossover wannabe’s, none have the ability or drive Mundine had.
Despite his obvious faults, he is a former world champion and no one can ever take that away from him.
Geale, on the other hand, had 160 amateur fights. Boxing was a way of life long before he turned professional. His career has been tough, certainly the loss to Mundine in 2009 was tough, but Geale exhibits no bitterness. He remains polite and respectful, as a champion should be.
Without even trying, Geale commanded the support of Australia. That support may have flagged without Mundine, but it’s hard not to like a humble man holistically dedicated to his sport and not just in it for the money.
On fight night, Mundine, who made a living beating up faded veterans, had assumed that mantle. At 37, he was six years older than Geale. It must be remembered that ten years ago, Mundine fought 38-year old Darren Obah and won by sixth round technical knockout.
Obah, who hadn’t fought in more than a year, was coaxed out of retirement. He dropped thirteen kilograms in two months to make the middleweight limit. He was never going to win. Mundine, without any shame, was feasting on the remnants of Australia’s best, faded veterans.
Against Geale, Mundine was a heavy underdog. The bookies, offering $2.80 on Mundine, didn’t think it’d be close.
The bookies had ignored reports that Mundine was working on power during training. Wisdom suggested he had to nail Geale early and knock him out inside four rounds. That was his only chance.
But Mundine was never going to knock Geale out. He has never been a heavy hitter, despite belting 26 knockouts in 49 fights. Mundine has never carried power, but his speed and accuracy were enough to wear many opponents down.
Though 21 million Australians wanted Geale to knock Mundine out, it was never going to happen. Geale can’t punch hard either. In 29 fights, he knocked out 15 opponents, but he hasn’t stopped anyone in his past six bouts.
So prefight banter about a knockout was redundant – the fight was always destined to go the distance.
With two light-hitting, defensive fighters, I didn’t think the fight would provide any surprises and it didn’t. It was bereft of highlights. There were no knockdowns and few heavy punches landed. Most punches that landed were glancing blows.
Both men eschewed the body, intent to head hunt with limited success. The fight was frenetic and awkward. Both men set such a fast pace the fight almost became sloppy, and the emphasis on defence prevented any real excitement.
The fight was hardly a classic and it wasn’t, as some pundits have suggested, the best fight in the history of Australian boxing. Geale won because he was busier, working throughout each round, rarely taking a breather, presenting angles and always moving forward. He landed more punches.
Mundine had his moments but he fought at the same measured pace throughout. He couldn’t step up the tempo when he needed to. He fought in centre ring, hoping to lull Geale into a mistake, but he couldn’t adjust to Geale’s awkward style.
Age in the body limited his reflexes. He could see the openings but his hand-eye coordination has slowed. It used to be see gap, punch gap, but Mundine did a lot of gawking instead of punching.
I scored the fight ten rounds to two, or 118-110. I gave Mundine the seventh and ten rounds, largely on sentiment. Everything else went to Geale.
When the decision was announced the scoring was a little skewed. The Australian judges were excessively kind to Mundine, particularly Charlie Lucas, who gave him four rounds (116-112). Judges Ray Reed and Tony Marretta (117-111) did a better job in giving Mundine three rounds, but that was still a stretch.
I wouldn’t have complained if the judges scored the fight a shutout, 12 rounds to nil. That’s how impotent Mundine was.
After the scores were read, it was no surprise to see Mundine flee the ring without giving a post-fight interview. Few fighters leave the ring without an interview. It is considered disrespectful to everyone involved, the opponent and the fans.
Shunning the ring interview exacerbates the failure. Most fighters, whether they’ve lost on points, been knocked out and badly beaten up accede to a ring interview. In Mundine’s case, it only prolonged the inevitable claims that he’d been robbed, it was a setup and he actually won the fight.
That’s exactly what happened. His post fight interview in the dressing room was fury. His believe that he won was predictable and unsurprising. It was also frustrating to listen to, because Mundine can’t behave any other way. It is always someone else’s fault.
I watched the same fight as the judges and the rest of Australia. There is no way Mundine won. He is the only person on the planet who believes he was robbed. In the coming days, expect Mundine to continue bitching about injustice and demanding a rematch. He will not be contrite and say hey, Geale, you won.
Mundine remains in a state of denial, he has always existed thus, but the simple fact is he does not deserve a rematch and it shouldn’t be granted.
It cost $49.95 to watch Mundine and Geale fight on Foxtel. Those who didn’t want to pay could watch for free at a pub or club. I paid my mate Stevo $20 to watch the fight at his house. I am glad I did. Boxing was in the media, it was relevant again, however briefly, as a bona fide sport.
My lust for boxing was reborn, and then Mundine went and ruined it. Not because he lost and not because of the way he fought. He ruined it because of his complete lack of responsibility and accountability.
Mundine needs to atone. He needs to admit defeat. If he’s honest he’ll admit that his career was all about the hype and the hate. Mundine forced Australian’s to support the other corner, no matter who was standing in it. We watched because we wanted to see him get knocked out.
The Australian public expects him to behave badly. How we felt about him doesn’t matter, because we kept buying into the hype and hate. We kept watching.
And he’s gotten rich on our desires.
