Ready To Rumble

I tried to steer clear of the outcome of the Vargas vs. Mosley fight last weekend. But when Sunday morning came, it was killing me not to know. I was rooting for Fernando Vargas after their bout a few months ago was called because Shane Mosley pounded a knot the size of a lemon on Vargas' orbital bone (see photo).

I ended up accidentally on purpose finding out that Mosley won in the sixth of the rematch. I was so disappointed.

I love boxing. It can be brutal and sometimes difficult to watch, but it's pure. The Sweet Science of bruising. I like it probably because my dad and I would watch it when I was in high school. If we didn't get the heavy-weight fights on Pay Per View, we'd go over to one of my dad's friends who did.

On Sunday I finally got to see how Mosley won.

Vargas didn't even show up for the fight. He was slow, lethargic, barely able to throw a punch, let alone land one. Mosley looked good, though how could he not? He was practically in the ring by himself.

In the end, Mosley hit Vargas right on the button. You can beat a man to a pulp, swell his eye shut and bloody his face and there will still be plenty of fight in him. But hit him on the chin and it's over. Vargas went down easy. He wobbled around and tried to get up, but that was it.

Six rounds. Glad I saved the $50 and caught it a week later. But I had to convince myself of that last weekend.