Aussie Fight Night

A testosterone fuelled atmosphere greeted us as we arrived at the club to watch the fight last night. Whatever you think of Mundine, he can sure pull a crowd, although perhaps a crowd that is just keen to see him get his comeuppance as to see him box.

In the build up to the fight, the difference between the boxers couldn’t have been more overt. Geale giving a calm, polite interview, clearly ready to level the score. Mundine, on the other hand, was found lying on a couch with his feet up on the arm as the interviewer held the mic to his mouth, talking things up. The bookies were favouring Geale, but was there any truth in Mundine’s swagger?

The other fights on the card played out, time slipping by. The penultimate bout fired up the crowd, with man mountain Kimbo Slice hitting the ring. All beard and rippling muscles, after a single round of hard hits, he took out the young Aussie pretender with a kidney punch in the 2nd, sending him to the canvass. Perhaps more for the spectacle and the build up than for the art of the sport itself, I was amused to hear many of the men in the crowd nearby laughing at and dare I say, mocking, Kimbo’s individuality – I did have to wonder how much chortling would have been going on without the safety of the tv screen. Not sure I would be messing with Mr Slice any time soon!

So, onto the main event. To the strains of the didgeridoo and Aboriginal dancing, Mundine entered with an entourage of 1000s, geeing up the crowd and generally being Anthony Mundine. Cocking a snook at Mundine’s previous remarks around Geale’s aboriginal heritage, Daniel also entered to the traditional music, with a warm reception from the crowd.

As the fight got underway, it was clear that Mundine was being outclassed and outboxed. Always on the back foot, Geale won round after round and even to the amateur eye such as my own, was clearly in command. As his confidence built and Mundine started to tire, I couldn’t help but smile as Geale goaded Mundine during the 9th.  Geale ducked and dipped, and had Mundine all around the ring. After every bell when Mundine would sink into his chair, Geale would skip back to his corner, shaking out his arms, seemingly as fresh as the first round. Mundine however kept up with the fast pace as well as he could and went the distance, although with an air of desperation that was clear in the final rounds – looking for that headline knock out punch. Despite it seeming to be clear that Mundine had fallen short, after the bell in the 12th Mundine waved to the crowd in a show of confidence (or would that be defiance?)

Geale was awarded the win unanimously by the judges, a worthy win. At this point I was irked to see Mundine jump out of the ring without congratulating his opponent. No one likes a sore loser, and moreover no one likes someone just being a general pig of a man. Sorry Mundine, we can’t all be Muhammed Ali and we certainly can’t all measure up to our own hype like he did, but we can all be sportsmanlike. That behaviour is just not cricket!

But as a final comment, I think, despite Geale’s outstanding performance, the star of the night had to be the American referee, Robert Byrd. From his opening comment to the boxers, telling them they were professional athletes and he wanted to see them fight like professionals, to the way he managed the scuffles and whinging during the fight – an absolute gent who commanded the fighters’ respect. It also made me smile that he clearly couldn’t care less who Mundine is (or isn’t).

And so from one great sporting occasion to another… the Superbowl beckons.