CONTRASTS By Saratogamist

Two weeks have passed since the very disappointing meet between the two boxers with the exotic, fabulous names: Zabdiel Judah and Konstantin Tszyu. Their match-up had been most anticipated, it was meant to be "all that and a bag of chips," as it goes in street lingo. Instead, the 'chips' were soggy and stale and 'all that' turned out to be not much at all.

This fight was an exercise in contrasts from beginning to end. The young, up and coming, super quick, southpaw with a punch versus the not so young, slower, maybe on his last hurrah, but still dangerous puncher. An "urchin from the ghetto" in Zab, a more laid back and civil Tszyu. One guy talked about his destiny, the other said he already had his Destiny, his four month old daughter, who carries that name.

One guy said it should be winner take all, the other guy just smiled, and I dare not imagine what his thoughts were when he heard that remark. Even the ring entrances were a sharp contrast. Tszyu came in to Rock, Judah to "Eye Of The Tiger", leaving all his hip hop fans wondering where was the beat.

Now they are in the ring, all the hype and the hoopla is done and over with, it's time to put up or get put out. The contrast was very evident in the opening round. Youth and speed were definitely in the lead, even the advantage in punching power was with the youngster. It was a good round, a "pretty" round, razzle dazzle, flash and flair.

Second round, the contrast not as sharp here, as the older guy started to shorten the distance, to walk through his foe's punches, to bring it to him. For the Judah fans that were watching the clock, and thinking, wow! he made it through this round, (which he clearly was losing), surprise, surprise! With a little less than a minute to go, a Russian missile packed in Tszyu's right glove struck its target, not once, but twice, and on the second strike, Judah went down. The fall was ugly, but his attempt at getting up right away was even uglier. And, in my opinion, it is here where the contrasts really took shape, from this second forward the night was all about contrasts.

Zab "Super" Judah became a victim of Tszyu's right hand, but more importantly, of his youth and inexperience. Had he stayed down, and took the count, who knows what could have happened. While Nady had his hands full with a stumbling Judah, Tszyu went to a neutral corner and observed the action almost in a surreal sense, like he was not a party to the demolition.

When Judah realized that it was all over, the contrasts became very, very apparent. In one corner, an angry, frustrated, hysterical and out of control young man who went after the referee, committing boxing's worst capital sin. Forgetting that he had on gloves, or maybe in spite of them, he attempted to choke Nady, grabbing him by the throat; and there was a contrast in that moment, as Nady who is a much bigger and taller man, did not retaliate or even put up a hand to defend himself.

As if that wasn't enough, Judah went to his corner from where he attempted to incite his ringside followers, he also proceeded to pick up the corner stool and tossed it across the ring. Meanwhile, Kostya Tszyu and his team were in their corner, celebrating, joyful, totally oblivious to the melee that was happening at the other end of the ring, it was almost like watching split screens.

But to me, the biggest and most telling contrast of the night was Yoel Judah restraining his young son, in what most have been a serious test of strength considering the state Zab was in, and the whole time, whispering softly in his ear: "ssssshhhh, the fight is over, the fight is over", comforting him the way one does a sick or crying infant.

There was a lot of love in that gesture, and to me, it was the most poignant moment of the night.