From the corner: Inside Maidana's upset
Fightwireimages.comBoth Victor Ortiz and Marcos Maidana doled out -- and absorbed -- tremendous punishment.LOS ANGELES -- Two hours had passed since the end of the fight, and still the adrenaline was pumping through our bodies like an unstoppable force.
Argentine contender Marcos Maidana had just won the WBA interim super lightweight title after scoring a sixth-round TKO against Victor Ortiz, and the dressing room had become a full-blown party scene, with more than 20 compatriots celebrating the victory.
We had just witnessed one of the most exciting fights of the past few years, and one of the most important fights in Argentine boxing history -- mostly because of its development and ending, the importance of the event, and the caliber of the rival, who was widely believed to be "the next Oscar De La Hoya."
I was fortunate to be in attendance -- and as more than just a spectator. Maidana, a friend who invited me to Las Vegas for a few weeks to train with him before the bout with Ortiz, allowed me to work his corner and experience the entire fight process firsthand.
The night had started in a tranquil Maidana dressing room. Even though he had a reputation as an implacable KO artist, Maidana had come to this fight more or less billed as "Ortiz's opponent," a fighter who would serve as a stepping-stone for the consecration of the Mexican-American fighter as boxing's new superstar. This was the message throughout the entire promotion of the fight, both in the media and the minds of most local fans.
The arrival of the boxers' respective teams at the Staples Center was a prime example of this. Ortiz showed up accompanied by an entourage numbering almost 30, including TV cameras, friends and representatives of Golden Boy Promotions. Inside, over 8,500 fight fans anticipated a glimpse of a future legend.
By contrast, a van simply dropped off Maidana and his small inner circle -- including me -- in the parking lot, and there was no one there to direct us toward our dressing rooms. We walked more than 200 yards without drawing so much as a second glance.
After the hand-wrapping, the warm-up exercises and the prayers to Our Lady of Lujan (patron saint of Argentina) in Maidana's dressing room, the HBO production team announced it was time for us to make our way toward the ring. A folk song chosen by Maidana ("Chacarera del Olvido" by Jorge Rojas) began to play over the sound system. Everything was ready.
The ring walk was steady but slow. Even though we sensed respect for Maidana, some scattered boos rained from the bleachers -- just enough to let us know the audience's preferences. But Maidana appeared calm as he entered the ring, unlike many of us in his corner. Our pulses began to raise dramatically.
Finally, the bell rang, and the real problems began. A cameraman blocked my vision of the ring and forced me to move to the side, which earned me a reprimand from the corner. Even without the extra trouble, it was difficult for me to adapt to the perspective of that position, which I wasn't accustomed to and from which things are seen quite differently. Sometimes, I felt I was inside the ring. Other times, it seemed the action was distant.
To make matters worse, things got off on the wrong foot for Maidana. Before two minutes had passed, the Argentine had already visited the canvas after a short right from Ortiz. At that moment, trainer Miguel Diaz got angry and told Maidana not to drop his left hand and to move toward Ortiz to avoid another knockdown.
The orders were to hit first, then move in to throw harder punches, with the left paving the way for the other punches, always bobbing and weaving. And Maidana complied, but only occasionally. The fight was still a war, much to our despair.
Maidana didn't waste any time. In the action immediately after the count, when no one expected it, he landed a huge right hand to put Ortiz on the seat of his pants, essentially evening the score. The fight had barely begun, and already the tension was astonishing. And even though each fighter had tasted his opponent's punching power, their explosive temperaments all but guaranteed more ferocious exchanges in the coming rounds.
When Maidana returned to his corner, we tried to calm him down and keep him from charging back into the ring to throw punches like crazy. But there was no point. Faithful to his style, the Argentine engaged in the ensuing warfare with gusto. He had a rough time of it in the second round, when he dropped to the canvas twice after powerful right hooks from Ortiz. The irony was that Maidana had been instructed to avoid straight lefts, but it was clear the left-handed Ortiz had more than enough firepower in both hands.
On the second knockdown of the round, Maidana was clever enough to drop to one knee and fully seize the eight seconds of rest. He looked at us, letting us know that he was fine. But when the round was over, Diaz asked me to put a bag of ice on the back of Maidana's head, which I did, and quite nervously.
But the fighter insisted he wasn't hurt, which reassured the corner. Diaz and Mario Margossian, Maidana's manager, again pleaded with the fighter to stay calm and avoid giving himself away in the exchanges with Ortiz.
Moments into the third round, Maidana connected with two demolishing right hands that shook up Ortiz. But each time Ortiz returned the favor, and Diaz was irate watching his fighter behave more and more carelessly.
The orders were to hit first, then move in to throw harder punches, with the left paving the way for the other punches, always bobbing and weaving. And Maidana complied, but only occasionally. The fight was still a war, much to our despair.
Toward the end of the fourth round, things began to look up. Maidana connected on a trio of right hands and hooks to the body that hurt Ortiz. We could hear the exclamations from the audience ("uhh!") whenever one of those painful shots hit a soft spot.
In the fifth, the bombs from both fighters continued to land. But it was Maidana who delivered the most punishment, connecting on a tremendous right hand that opened a deep cut over Ortiz's right eye.
Continuous chants of "Or-tiz, Or-tiz" exhorted the local fighter, but Ortiz's legs weren't responding. By the end of the round, we realized he was due to hit the canvas again at any moment.
"Calm down," Diaz told Maidana, his voice almost gone after so much yelling and screaming. "Your hands are doing a lot of damage. Keep cornering him on the ropes, but use your intelligence as you did in the last round."
Just as the sixth round started, a right-hand bomb from Maidana exploded on Ortiz's left eye, and the area immediately swelled. Maidana chased Ortiz until, with a minute to go in the round, he was able to pin him in a neutral corner and land a short left hook that flattened Ortiz.
Referee Raul Caiz issued a count and immediately called for the ringside doctor to check on Ortiz, who was hurt and had no strength left and almost no vision in one eye. The physician prescribed an early stoppage, and Ortiz, though dismayed, seemed to agree.
Only then did the result begin to sink in, and great joy overcame Maidana's corner and entourage. It already had been a long night, but none of us were ready for it to be over. With the dressing room now filled with revelers, it wasn't long before the party made its way to a restaurant on Figueroa Street for an Argentine-style barbecue fit for the occasion.
Buenos Aires-based Sebastián Contursi is ESPNdeportes.com's boxing analyst. He has covered dozens of championship fights for various publications in the United States and Argentina.
