pruneface

How? Care to elaborate? They got an ace at the deadline and some kick ass hitters are in their roster. If I want an apologist, I'll talk to a white person on an Indian Reservation. Message from Ben Cherington. To Sox fans who are expressing dismay over the team's current travails: GO f*** YOURSELVES! You satiated ingrates who've gone soft the last 11 years can suck it. You remind me of the obese kid being indulged around in a shopping cart at whatever shopping mall fat, stupid Americans happen to frequent. Tons to choose from. Too bad the gluttony's almost over. 3 championships in 10 years. One was an albatross. This after 86 of futility. I met a Yankee fan yesterday and couldn't tell the difference untill he hit more over a head with a pinstriped tomahawk. Yes, I'm gone. Most of you are happy. But I'll still be richer than any of you will ever hope to achieve in you miserable lifetimes. Remember that while you play with other peoples' money and pretend to know s*** you know nothing about. Pretentious SOBs! PS: If it's any consolation, I agree that I should have been fired. I failed. But so what? Since when has baseball reached refugee status? Did I mention you can go f*** yourselves? Sincerely, Ben Cherington. (BTW, go f*** yourselves).

Remember how the telephone distorted conversation? Frequency range only partially overlapped real speech, so people couldn't easily differentiate 'b' and 'd,' hence 'd' as in 'dog,' when spelling out names. Then came the internet. No voice, just script. More abstraction. The effect is enforced retardation. You can't see, you can't hear, you just gotta trust I'm laughing. Sort of like organized religion. Read my suggestions. They'd be awesome, but no way are they serious. I made myself laugh at least. And I had some fun with Red Sox groupies on here. The internet has 'seriously' f***ed with relationships. I try to control that addiction. PS: Why do males get all maudlin in bars near the end of the night? Maybe you can answer that one. When someone prefaces a comment with I love you, but... I get my ******** meter ready. And what's this 'bro' stuff? We homies now? Had each others' backs on da street, keepin' it real - (code for the exact opposite), shared the same booty? Nah, just couple digital blips bumping in space. I miss the old TVs that had static. Chaos is so soothing.

What other options aren't commercial? MLB is a commercial venture, inflated. Got a pin? Make as much dough as possible. Of course. And water's wet. I like my coffee bitter. Who's going to be the first shock jock of MLB? Start a petition for Howard Stern. Lure Donald Trump. Sky's the limit. Americans are ready for debasement. More on the way... Groups and affiliations people make and defend. Some aren't life threatening.

You went back and checked and still got it wrong. You're awesome. Prep means preparation. Before the game. Scully works on scouting reports, player history. Remy and Orsillo hang out with Bacchus. Should invite him up to the booth with them. I like beating dead sheep. You made a guess. Not educated.

More or less completely wrong. Explain how you can be more or less complete in anything and go from there. They should do the pizza type incident more often. Aren't commited enough. Gets people talking. Programming is designed to sell s*** people don't need but end up buying. Nesn could do a better job providing incentive. Have only really hot people kiss and plug a diamond or really ugly people to plug plastic surgery. Got Regrets? Have another beer.

I'm suggesting he start drinking on the job. Improve things. Putting words in my mouth. Try this. Bonus point you come up with an adjective means way past pathetic. Start with pathos, go from there. Much admired in classical culture. How you know remy's better at his job? Got any proof? Don't need a helmet when you ride. Saves on expenses.

I agree. Not hardly.

It amazed me how Patrick Stewart made playing a frenchman on STNG work without any effort to sound french. Lack of effort paid off. Same can't be said for Remy and Orsillo.

That's awesome. Visiting other mlb fan websites, here's what they had to say 'bout their announcers: "As others have said, if you live outside the [insert team here] viewing area, you get the "privilege" of watching other teams' announcers. Some people have no idea how bad it gets. Aside from Scully, [insert names here] are the best."

They're popular. 1/2 ain't bad. Don't think they're good enough. NESN isn't playing to their strengths. Unstated goal is to distract fans from the game, get attention on themselves and plug products. No problem. Give 'em both toy bazookas to shower the crowd with free gifts - bobbleheads, balled up t-shirts, dunkin' donuts, used game worn underwear, you name it. Orsillo likes food more than baseball? Okay, have him host an in-game cooking show. Invite famous chefs to instruct as Orsillo learns the finer points of culinary arts. Put up a split screen. Then have him test the food. The more exotic, the better. Sauteed cow testicles with a jujube glaze. Pablo could join the fun in between innings and lose weight running up and down to get back into position. Will he make it in time? The suspense would be intolerable. Remy got an affinity for alcohol? Have him chug a beer during the 7th inning stretch. Fans can join in. Increase beer sales. Sponsors would love it. Then, throw the empty bottle out of the booth. The lucky fan gets bonked on the head receives a free Remdawg T-shirt. Plugging two products in one go. Could even plug the hospital they send the fan to. During the game, fans put up cards - instead of a K, a bottle of beer, for each one Remy downs. Increase betting and interest by gambling on which inning Remy passes out. As he gets drunker, watch Remy loosen up, tell us how he really feels about the umps, the errors. That would be worth the price of admission alone. Must see TV. Now that's entertainment.

What's entertaining is subjective. People treat it is a license. If so, then anything goes. Got at least three options. Go highbrow - inform people during the broadcast. Scully does his homework, provides details you'd find in a scouting report, even for the opposition. 'Bout the only prep Remy and Orsillo do is raising a glass or lifting a fork. Scully only does home games and road games in CA. He's pushing 90. Otherwise, the guy'd be pushing up daisies. Go conventional - what NESN is doing. Uninspired and the easiest option. Go lowbrow - appeal to the base. A compromise, I suggest, Substitute a pair of muppets for the other. Fans wouldn't miss a beat.

That's the problem. Scully isn't the gold standard, but the exception. He got where he was by honing his craft. Guys like Remy and Orsillo s*** on it. Got a declining culture, get s***** broadcasters. The Jays crew does a good job. They're sober, (no pun intended, Remy). That's extended to the guys in the truck who put up timely graphics could of come straight out of fangraphs. With NESN, it's a drunken orgy with moments of corporate sponsorship lucidity. Gotta keep the priorities. These guys inspired Twitter. The all about me culture. Often, the NESN broadcasters come before the game. Scully never puts himself first. Hardly ever talks about himself. Talks baseball. Baseball's rich history - surely there's a wealth of material to fill up the time, especially with an historic team like the Sox. But you gotta have someone with an IQ. Not just some sated hedonists. Problem with NESN, they don't go far enough with their brand of vapid entertainment. How about a spanish announcer table alongside the regular team? Cut the boring interviews short they have with the guests up in the booth each game by powerbombing them through the table. Get a guy that can juggle, maybe make cute animals out of balloons. Encourage Remy by installing a fully stocked bar in the booth. Make his commentary more interesting, if not more relevant. Get a guy who can do tricks with his toupee. Have them wear face masks, dress up as women, use funny sound effects when there's a gaff on the field. Install a laugh track. Douse each other with flammable liquid and play with a lighter. Put a couch up there. Erect a strip club dancer pole and see what happens. Have a live feed on the booth in a little corner of the screen the whole game long and do stunts inspired by the movie jackass. Film the athletes getting surgery and air clips during the game with surgeon's commentary. Get inspired NESN. Be innovative.

Fire Remy, too, I might watch a NESN game without the mute button. Close your eyes instead, imagine you're watching The View. Or listen to Vin Scully, see how baseball coverage could be done in a parallel universe where player history, facts, stats, and other facets of baseball are covered without missing a single play . No s***, folks, it really is possible. The man is a master and adds layers of depth to the broadcast. For many, baseball is a soap opera, hence the appeal of Remy or Orsillo talking about what they ate last night or what they bought shopping. Broadcasters become first ladies, prima donnas in the solipsistic world of 24/7 social applications. Couple of fat hens gossiping. Makes you feel like they're your lovable, good for nothing, lazy (but nice, so NICE!) neighbors/friends/relatives sitting on the couch drinking your beer; that's the appeal, I guess. Or just plain familiarity. What a ringing endorsement! Clowns. They should dress like one during the broadcast as they skip over whole outs or even whole innings. But they never forget to plug the sponsors. Good company men. Orsillo stood for the average fat slob living the consumer lifestyle hitting the jack pot. Sitting on his ass and getting paid for it. Now the dream is over. Robot umps? NESN should be the first network to experiment with robot broadcasters. It'd be an improvement. I sometimes wonder if Remy isn't a drunk robot with his commentary. He does color? He does instant replay. Even blind people are complaining he's too obvious. In Canada, a famed broadcaster was fired and subsequently returned to his position after mass public protest. It can be done if enough fans really think Orsillo is important. I'd suggest putting effort into cloning Scully before he dies as a more worthwhile pursuit. Just like his predecessors, you'll get used to Orsillo being gone, forget his name and gradually accept the next guy. No explanation needed. The elites hold the masses in disdain and maybe they got a point. Rapid reaction = little to no thought. All this assumes the normal workings of society, which should not be taken for granted. Then again, watching this year's FO is like waiting impatiently for the lab rat to notice the blinking red button that administers food. They'll learn what is obvious but it takes so much damn time. Red Sox suck.

Greetings fellow baseball fanatics. It has come to my attention that the St. Louis Cardinals are under suspicion of certain illegal activities that the NSA engages in on a regular basis. Such activities are illegal only for those who don’t write the rules. No longer! While it is too early to speculate on whether the Cards were involved with personal computers, decryption software, photos of player’s wives, and vaseline, it is not too early to begin considering measures to improve baseball’s cutting edge (sponsored by Gillette) spirit of innovation and competitiveness. The following implementations will enhance baseball’s peerless entertainment value. Henceforth, all hacking activities will be openly encouraged and considered a creative means of advantage. They will foster more open discussion between parties and improve 'listening' skills. Corollaries such as blackmail and coercion will enlarge the tools teams have at their disposal. Winning at all costs is honest and drive-directed; once acknowledged, the opportunities for hypocrisy and dishonesty diminish. For this reason, all teams will be required to have their own substance enhancing facilities complete with shady street dealers and injection booths next to the shower stalls or whirlpool. Pitchers may sport an accessory belt for convenient retrieval of sandpaper, vaseline, tar or whatever their imagination can come up with. MLB is pleased to introduce the latest award because there aren’t enough of them already. The team owner, player, or manager with the most bet winnings in the regular season will be honored with the Pete Rose Bettor Extraordinaire Award, to be handed out at the World Series. Pete Rose will be available all season long to offer tips and guidance on how to maximize one’s gains. We thank him for taking the time to teach the ‘younguns’ how it’s done. Other measures include: Honoring the free market: Teams may also rent a player in a trade to be returned to the original club after the conclusion of the World Series. These players must continue to wear their original uniform while playing for their ‘foster’ team. Speeding up the game: Umpires will be required to carry US Army issue Beretta 9mm pistols and army fatigues. Arguing balls and strikes are now more entertaining than ever. Players may also use their bats as nature intended. The only replays being deployed now will be on shots fired. Speeding up the game part II: Sub-par players will only be afforded 2 strikes. Really s***** players (ref: Sandy Leon) will be designated as automatically out. This decision is borne out by rigorous statistical testing. MLB is still considering whether to replace maple bats with nerf foam. In the interim, MLB advises all fans who are concerned about flying bats to bring a bigger baseball glove with them to the ballpark. Teams may kidnap opposing team players and a) hold them for ransom or force them to play for their team for as long as they can hold onto them. Trades of kidnapped players are permissible. Kidnapped players will play at league minimum during their period of capture, which will elicit much sympathy from the fans. Beheadings/executions: Any death sentences for poor on-field performance should be carried out during pre-game ceremonies. Ground crews need time to erect a gallows, for example. If the method is fast (firing squad), the team may avail themselves of the 7th inning stretch. We trust these measures will meet with the approval of the depraved American public. Now, more than ever, MLB plays by its OWN rules. Rob Manfred.

Pete Abraham 58s Two halfwits run on the field at Fenway. Quite a weekend here. ---------------------------- Some math: Sandoval + Hanley = 1 wit. Farrell + Cherrington = Twit. It was fun to see Security tackling Red Sox players on the field. They need to do that more often. Make the games more interesting.

Hope died Sunday in Boston during the ballistic missile assault the Jays unleashed during the three game series. But don't go blaming the Blue Jays. Hope had had enough. Coroners are ruling it a suicide. No more Hope. What are fans to do? "I guess I'll cut my lawn," said Jim Barney, who has the fortune of having two first names. He's otherwise known as Barney Jim. "I think Hope just lost it, said Deborah Baker, who runs a Dunkin Donuts. "I feel relief. I don't have to Hope anymore. It was taking too much of my time. Well, time to make some donuts." Other fans are unconvinced. "I don't think Hope is dead," said one little girl through the Red Sox face paint streaming down her face. "My mom says you can't live without Hope." The girl looked up in wonder when someone pointed out that she was still alive. "Hey, that's true." She brightened immediately. Eulogies in Hope's honor have begun pouring in. "Hope will always be remembered for the ability to give powerless people a semblance of power," said Mayor Grimley, the famous Simpson's character, who like Hope, is a figment of human imagination. "Hope provided us with a convenient excuse to do nothing. Now that Hope's gone, well, I guess we'll have to do something again." It's that simple. The Hop for Hope. But just because Hope is gone, doesn't mean people have to stop hoping. People are already organizing in the hope Hope comes back. "We can start looking for Hope in the remains of Hope," said Hope Francis from the Hopecan. "Hope is everywhere. You just start by hopping, and scream 'EEEE.' We're hoping that will resurrect HOPE." One can Hope.

A Modest Proposal. Kilkenny isn’t famous for just beer; it can also lay claim as the birthplace of Jonathan Swift, the famous Irish author and political commentator. Years ago, he came up with a modest proposal to alleviate suffering during the Irish famine: eat babies. Cure hunger and reduce population in one shot. Many people confused this work of satire for genuine advice, which shouldn’t be a surprise given how modern society considers Gulliver’s Travels a children’s story. As such, quite a few people adopted the measure with mixed results. My own modest proposal concerns the sorry state of mediocrity the Sox find themselves in. The problem is they're boring. Neither good nor dreadful, they have no flair, no pizz-pazz, no identity; they’re merely a forgettable collection of underachievers already effaced from the history books before they’ve even been written. Seeing how attempts at fielding a winning team haven’t worked, I propose steps in the opposite direction: try fielding the shittiest team possible. It should be infinitely easier than assembling a winner, but effort is still involved. The team must be so bad as to be indelible. They should inspire monuments to be erected in their dishonor. Scour the beer leagues for the fattest drunk to be the ace of the staff. Pilfer the sickliest patients from hospital wards. Scout old age homes. Select only the most down-on-their luck homeless people. Be sure to include nauseating baseball scribes. They’d have to change their underwear each half inning, that’s how excited they’d be. Recruit scrawny librarians, solicit people with heart conditions, the blind, the paralyzed, the amputated. The only limit is your imagination. Imagine the fun that would result. At any given moment, a player might drop dead. The suspense would be intolerable. Shaughnessy would s*** his pants and cry like a baby after getting beaned and retired players like David Ortiz could write mean things about him in the Globe. The act of ‘hoping’ would find its proper milieu in despair. As the losses mounted, SeabeachFred could command a subscription fee for access to his diatribes that, for once, would be justified. Fans could take solace in witnessing a group of millionaires actually worse off than they are. And what if they won a game? It would eclipse the accomplishments of the WS champions for that year.

Obesity is linked to heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, aneurisms, strokes, and ass zits from too much downward pressure in a sitting position. So is watching Red Sox baseball. I'm not aware of there being a correlation to hitting performance on a baseball field. Lots of fat, out of shape specimens of self-inflicted degradation have done just fine hitting a baseball. Now, if his man-tits are impeding his swing, there may be grounds for concern. Nothing a girdle or a bra couldn't fix. It's unfair to single Panda's weight as the underlying cause of his hitting woes without exhausting all other possibilities especially when there are millions of Americans suffering under similar circumstances looking to Panda for inspiration and a convenient excuse to continue eating philly cheesesteaks and a barrel of cola on their lazy boy as they watch Panda trudge toward the batters box. It might also be fair to ask, if weight is the issue, what's the rest of the team's excuse? Have you been to a mall lately? Or just take a look in the stands. Panda fits right in. He's normal. It's all those 'in shape' freaks who need to get with the program and eat a few. Here's a syllogism that should put this debate to rest: Being a millionaire exempts the individual from consequences. Sandoval is a millionaire. Therefore, he can eat whatever the f*** he wants. Last, it seems that people are under the assumption that winning is the reason why teams play the game. If that's the case, what the hell is everyone doing watching the games for? Since the Sox don't have a snowball's chance in hell of winning the WS series this year, there's got to be another reason. I suggest sadomasochism.

Up to the Red Sox Minute by That Drunken Leprechaun that passes for a journalist with integrity but who is really a gossip mongering ******* with a personal axe to grind. For want of an S. -Insider information reveals that the 'Five Aces' T-shirts touted so vociferously and with no small amount of hubris by the Red Sox pitching rotation during Spring Training have been recalled due to a manufacturer's defect. The shirts should have read 'Five Asses.' Sox performance against the law. -A small group of Red Sox fans have filed a class action lawsuit on behalf of the entire Nation citing false adverstising and a breach of faith. 'This team was supposed to 'f***ing' hit,' said one disgruntled fan. With the team near dead last in runs scored and team average, one fan decided a lawsuit wasn't enough. Herbert MacDonald has announced he will be staging a mass sit down on Yawkey Way. Any fan who doesn't have a life like Herbert is welcome to join in. The festivities, which includes effigy and jersey burning, start at 11 am. Fans will also seek to apprehend Mike Napoli and attempt to give the Red Sox first baseman a shave, shower and a haircut. "He f***in' stinks," said one fan. A time to Panic? -Should Red Sox fans be worried? The same question was posed to Baltimore natives over their own team's trials and tribulations. The overwhelming response to that gallup poll was 'No.' Poorer fans in Baltimore must contend with having their water and electricity cut off first. In a strong gesture of community goodwill, Baltimore Orioles officials have announced they will be handing out free s*** buckets sporting an attractive team logo to the first 10000 fans at their next home game. "These buckets can also sub as puke bins during the game," said one official. Bottled water will still cost $4.99. Not really a Panda? -WWF, the World Wildlife Fund, has enacted a defamation claim against Red Sox 3rd baseman Pablo Sandoval for "making pandas everywhere look bad." Said one WWF official, 'everyone knows Pandas can hit from the left side." In response, the Chinese government has cancelled Sandoval's planned visit to the Beijing Zoo next offseason, citing security risks and a general lack of interest.

AP Got Vic? The New England Dairy Promotion Board caused a furor over the weekend when Shane Victorino's 2015 RedSox headshot appeared on their latest batch of milk cartons under the caption, "Missing." Shane Victorino was unaware of the situation when concerned relatives, who couldn't reach him on the phone, got re-routed through the labyrinthine Fenway park switchboard and ended up talking to a grounds keeper. "I told Shane's wife I hadn't seen him," said Geoff Duchesne, who waters the grounds with meticulous care. "She started screaming. Oh boy," he said, shaking his head in dismay. "What the hell did I say?" A distraught Mrs. Victorino next called the Massachusets Missings Persons Division and that's when authorities stepped in. Said Detective Cummings, "We immediately got on the horn, asked around. To tell you the truth, I was wondering about Shane myself. He seems to have disappeared during games. He just goes away. I thought he might be dead." Turns out, he wasn't dead. He just sucks. "I was taking a long hot shower," Shane said, when his wife finally contacted him. "I'm sorry. My phone's not goddamn waterproof." Once informed of the NEDPB's actions, Victorino expressed surprise, then anger. "That's...that's not funny," he said, storming off without any further comment - and without any clothes on. Confronted with an indignant Red Sox Nation, Roger Dupris, the head of the Dairy Board was nonapologetic. "He just looks so lost at the plate. We thought it was appropriate." And what about the rest of roster? Dupris nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, there's a lot to choose from. We're working on our next candidate right now. I don't want to give out any names - wouldn't want to spoil the surprise-" he broke off to wink, "but I don't think I'm giving it away when I say his name is an Italian city. After that, the next guy rhymes with 'Nada'. Ironic, right?" Yeah, ironic. "We're just trying to help." But Dupris vowed not to stop there. He hinted at even bigger plans. "If all goes well, we could have a Missing Red Sox Player Milk Carton Day at Fenway. You know, kind of like Bobble Head Day but with milk." It's all part of the NEDPB's master plan to improve their promotion strategies. And it appears to be working. Speculation is now rampant that the Sox aren't drinking enough milk. "I'll drink more milk," said David Ortiz. "Just so long as I don't appear on no damn milk bottle." "Carton." "Whatever." Drinking more milk? At this point, it just might help.

Several breaking news items: First, the Weather Channel has decided to feature Red Sox games in their natural disaster series on an ongoing basis. "This is a great day for our broadcasting company," one official said. Second, California has officially declared an end to their state of emergency. Masterson, in particular, was singled out for his particular efforts in ending the drought. Third, Larry Lucchino has announced 'Hit a homer off of a Red Sox starter for the Fans' day at Fenway Park. Only fans who fail to hit a homer will receive a special edition can of green monster paint. Supplies are limited, but organizers are not worried. Last, Tyson, the nation's largest meatball manufacturer, is going 'all in' as the official sponsor of the 2015 Boston Red Sox pitching staff. All starters will field an attractive meatball patch on their left shoulder sleeve to commemorate the occasion.

He has over 300 amateur fights - an extensive pedigree. Fundamentally, he's beyond reproach. He has a granite chin and possesses that rarest of skills - he can cut off the ring. Monroe is going to literally have to make no mistakes to have a shot - more than likely he'll have to run and there will be nowhere to hide. I'm almost as excited to see Roman Gonzalez finally make it to TV. This little warrior might be the best P4P in the world.

Too bad more fans didn't see this last weekend's fight instead. Alvarez vs Kirkland was sensational for the brief time it lasted. Round 1 here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3nIBWlq6N4 Up next, GGG takes his KO streak into the ring against Monroe Jr.

He fought with a torn rotator cuff, which he's having surgery on this week. He'll be out for 9-12 months. Too bad he wasn't healthy. He should have just been forthcoming and postponed the fight. I'm assuming he was worried the fight wouldn't happen if he backed out. As for the suit, Pac was denied a painkiller injection. It's probably no easy thing to fight with a torn shoulder. No wonder his output was so low.

Fighters age at different rates. Pacquiao has had more fights, more wars, taken more punishment. I'm glad I didn't pay for that fight. Another underwhelming and dubious victory, which I don't think either of them really won. Legacy my ass. I wish Hearns or Leonard were in their prime to give Floyd that ass whupping. I'm ready for both of them to retire, have no interest in watching them anymore, and am looking forward to the next crop of stars - starting with this week's Alvarez/Kirkland fight and then GGG next weekend as well as Chocolito on the undercard. On why Floyd is despised: From ring mag: I also think May’s style is one that is difficult to applaud or give credit to, in a similar way to Klitschko’s (although I hate to lump them together as I actually like Wlad). Whilst they are undoubtedly talented and amazingly consistent at grinding out victories, I feel like both are often anti-competitive rather than defensive. They rarely out maneuver their opponents and instead opt to run or tie them up when things get a lil too hot to handle. Now I’m not saying that they aren’t capable of out maneuvering and outsmarting their opposition, but that once they have the opponent tagged, they kill the fight as a competition and do what they have to do to avoid any exchanges. That in my eyes isn’t defensive nuance, its non-participation. In “soccer” terms it’s what we call “parking the bus,” i.e. shutting up shop and refusing to engage. I mean Sugar Ray Leonard, Pernell Whitaker and Muhammad Ali were great at closing fights but they didn’t do it by killing the fight as a spectacle, they did it through clever footwork and tactical flourishes and combinations. Maybe there isn’t a difference between the boxers listed above, and maybe I’m seeing a distinction that isn’t really there. I do see a difference between their tactics and those of elite boxers of previous decades. Mayweather and Klitschko are what I call “neutralizers.” They shut down their opponents by any means necessary – be it excessive holding/tying-up or moving – and they don’t take unnecessary chances or make offense a priority while doing so. What they do – and what their supporters call “master boxing” or “boxing clinics” – is not my cup of tea. To me, Mayweather and Klitschko bring a modern amateur boxing mentality to the prize ring, which doesn’t surprise me given that both were elite amateurs during the AIBA point-system era (1990s to the present) and both were 1996 Olympic medalists. Their goal in a boxing match – once they got into their 30s (I’ll acknowledge that both guys were more offense-minded when they were in their 20s) is to land enough clean punches to earn the round and then avoid getting hit in return by not engaging (which is done by evading them with lateral movement or by tying them up). They have no problem with “running out the clock” during the second half of each round and during the late portion of the fight. They (and their supporters) will argue that’s the essence of boxing: to hit and not get hit. I agree but I would also argue that it can be done in more entertaining manner. (And I totally understand that there’s risk involved in the more entertaining version of the Sweet Science, but that’s why the special fighters who can pull it off are celebrated.) When defense and offense are properly meshed by talented boxers, it is a sight to behold. Sweet Pea was known as a defensive specialist – and he certainly was – but note that Whitaker is able to maintain a healthy offense while he’s slippin’ and dippin’ away from his opponents’ punches. Also, note how little holding there is when he’s evading shots in the pocket, and witness his power punches in return (especially the BODY SHOTS!). With Lights Out you see a master of slipping punches during infighting. You won’t see him engaging in any holding or clinching (or as he used to call it “huggin’ and kissin’”). Like Mayweather, Toney employed the shoulder roll-and-counter to perfection, but unlike his fellow Michigan native Lights Out countered with authority. He wasn’t punching on the fly or off his back foot. Even when he was fat and out of shape, Toney was looking to do damage. Yes folks, boxers can be slick AND badasses. --------------------