The Emergence of David Haye

While most boxing fans were preparing for the rematch between Chad Dawson and Glen Johnson, a heavyweight title was changing hands in Bayern, Germany. Those who found themselves interested enough in a British prospect to eat the bargain pay-per-view cost were given the opportunity to finally see material carved out of posturing. It took almost no time for the inevitable "David Slays Goliath" heading to make its appearance.

Mention the present day heavyweight division, and images of monolithic men from the East crop up. Many have attributed the bane of boxing to their domination. This is because heavyweights have traditionally held the greatest appeal for casual fans. That fan base is constituted of individuals who need the promise of one-punch power to send a man’s body reeling to the canvas, and his mind reeling to the stars. These fans have a tendency to get wrapped up in the hype, and as such, miss the greater purpose of boxing as a thinking man’s game. They, nonetheless, have their place in the sport. Their sporadic outpourings of enthusiasm swell the coffers; a form of support that cannot be undervalued, because there aren’t many platinum-level bouts occurring per year with the ability to arouse interest from casual fans. A couple times a year, marquis match ups with appeal external to the boxing world take place. But it happens only a couple times – tops.

Losing a strong American presence in the heavyweight division has not done any favors for boxing. It has spawned a near unavoidable practice; that of scrambling to legitimize anyone who presents some semblance of hope on the horizon. Up for consideration are fighters who seem to fall short either by genetics, or by character, or by both. They may be too small, too slow, too chinny, out of shape, under motivated, undisciplined – it doesn’t matter. No one can afford the luxury of being overly selective. Hope is hope, be it however blind or myopic. We deal with the cards we’re dealt.

It has been a while since a heavyweight fighter has cut a figure, literally, as impressive as that of England’s David Haye. A former cruiserweight fighter who climbed up the scale for more lucrative opportunities, Haye has made neither secret nor subtlety out of his bid to be heavyweight champion. His aim is understandable. It must be difficult to while away in a division where recognizable opponents hardly number to the fingers on one hand. For the increase of a few pounds, the rewards have the potential to be exponentially greater.

Haye’s reputation has already been prematurely etched to an extent. There are some who became tired of Haye even before his fist was ever thrown in a heavyweight bout. Undoubtedly, this sentiment has stemmed from his marketing tactics, which can translate as crude and boastful. There isn’t anyone who can deny that messages to provoke his opponents flow from his mouth as aggressively as torrents on the Colorado River. After all, this is a man who famously raised the ire of the Klitschkos, donning a specially made t-shirt with their severed heads prominently featured in his grasp.

With all the bravado that has accompanied his debut as a heavyweight, there arises the question of what Haye is actually capable of doing. Long before he felt obligated to prove anything in the ring, his tongue was running. By allowing possible bouts with both Klitschko brothers to disintegrate, he was making sure that his fists lagged steadily behind his tongue. After all, he had business on his mind. He assessed the abilities of the Klitschko brothers, and probably rightly decided that neither was offering the pool he wanted to wet his feet in. Plus, he would have been entering into those bouts with no real bargaining chips to demand what he wanted. He needed an opponent that presented less of an immediate threat, and this is how he ended up standing opposite Nikolay Valuev in Germany.

Valuev is a veritable mountain of a man, and as such, was well appointed for David Haye. He has the one-punch power that might be expected from a seven feet tall, 300-plus pound man; but as a mountain, he is relatively stationary. He does not possess overwhelming speed, agility, or accuracy. By comparison, Haye is like a bolt of lightening. He is fast on his feet and fast with his hands. He stands out in the division because these attributes make him a less predictable entity, and therefore, more exciting to watch. And excitement is something that has been sorely lacking for a long time.

Haye does have flaws as a fighter. He can be overly reliant on his speed, and this has caused him to make a habit of holding his guard very low; when he holds it at all. At times he will drop his hands entirely by his sides and bend forward with his head, almost as though taunting his opponent. He is usually able to dart out of the way, but this is always a tense moment, because he’s making his body an open target to blows that are invited from any angle. His chin is suspect, and the primary concern as he has come up in weight is whether he can withstand a true heavyweight punch.

The fight between Haye and Valuev lasted the full twelve rounds. Many were disappointed with Haye’s performance, even though he was awarded a majority decision, and earned the WBA title in the process. When a heavyweight fighter possesses inordinate agility like his, it can sometimes give the appearance of running from the opponent. Most heavyweights today are not particularly quick on their feet; they move around the ring somewhat torpidly, as though they are uninterested in wielding their whole bodies as weapons. They are focused on their fists, and they forget the rest.

The mother lode of criticism toward Haye’s fighting style generates from his rapid movement around the ring. There is truth in this observation, to the extent that Haye doesn’t favor prolonged head on exchanges. He doesn’t like standing in front of his opponent. He likes to hit and not be hit. But before this is cast aside as weakness, consider Haye’s peculiar position, and realize that in no other division, would this type of contest occur. Against Valuev, he was challenging a man who was much taller and who outweighed him by 100 pounds. On paper, it actually verges on the absurd, if not on the carnival worthy. In theory, due to the size difference, Valuev should be able to take many more punches from Haye than Haye should be able to take from Valuev. In this sense, Haye fought intelligently. He cannot stand still and trade punches with a man who is so much larger. The outcome of that approach would have been swift and decisive. And it would not have echoed valiance, but rather stupidity.

Haye fought a conservative fight, but he managed to prevent it from becoming a dull fight. If he had any private reservations concerning his ability to transfer his power from cruiser to heavy, he was given his answer in the final round. A punch he threw stunned Valuev, and sent him teetering toward the ropes. Haye ran out of time and was unable to finish him, but he demonstrated something very important: the potential to thwart the dominance of these monolithic champions with his own power.

In future bouts, Haye will have to become more comfortable letting his hands go. He is a heavyweight champion himself now, and he has to fight accordingly. The win over Valuev, along with the fact that he was able to hurt him, should give him the necessary confidence to press on in his campaign for more belts. Haye may not be the American heavyweight we desire, but if he continues to talk his talk, we can take some satisfaction in the words spilling from a native English tongue. He may represent the future of the division, or not. But what he certainly offers is a possibility of increased excitement, and it’s a possibility that seems less compromising with each giant he slays.