Kostya Tsyzu - Death In Gloves; Part 1
By Bradley Yeh
An exceptional mix of unique characteristics made Kostya Tzsyu a ruthless and amazingly brilliant light welterweight boxer of the modern era.
In many ways he was the perfect pugilistic package, and from 1992 onwards for approximately a decade, aside from a few aberrations, Konstantin “Kostya” Tszyu reigned supreme amongst the light welterweight divisions of the world with a genuine killer instinct and the cool detachment of a professional fighter with stupendous power.
Upon reflection both before and after he clinically dispatched with Julio Ceaser Chavez over 6 rounds back in Phoenix, Arizona in 2000; in many senses Kostya Tszyu was the heir to all great expectations the Mexican legend Julio Ceaser Chavez had set within the minds of those that passionately studied the light welterweight divisions during Chavez’s incredible reign.
But whilst both Chavez and Tszyu’s accomplishments are comparable in these esoteric contexts, and perhaps even others more obvious; differences of method and approach also set the two widely apart.
Differences that were obvious but sometimes overlooked.
Chavez, with a his signature left hook to the liver punch was a traditionally brutal Mexican stamina fighter with minimal special effects and impeccable punch resistance, that at times would mercilessly carry opponents a few more rounds than necessary just to bludgeon them, ensuring the defeat choked their heart as it echoed within their minds for an eternity beyond the fight.
By the time Tszyu got to Chavez he was in many ways a man at the ultimate centre of true boxing power. Tszyu appeared to most as an accomplished traditional orthodox boxer mostly due to his stance. In reality though, he was quite a sophisticated and unorthodox package.
With his left hand, either slung low, or extended outward and horizontal, exposing his midsection, on first inspection Kostya Tszyu must have visually presented to those considering the prospect of being a contestant against him as a lean boxer-puncher with easily exploitable vulnerabilities - vulnerabilities such as a predicable penchant for throwing big right hands equaled only by his apparent vulnerability to them.
Still as contestants crafted their approach and watched, Tszyu ascended and accumulated power for his own needs of pugilistic domination and assassination on his way to becoming an outstanding champion.
And Vernon Forrest discovered just how steep the gradient of that ascension was even before Tszyu was a professional fighter; when Kostya Tzyu gave what would probably be one of the most scintillating displays of boxing skills of any Olympic or professional world class boxing contest, when he easily outclassed Forrest during the world amateur titles in 1991.
Even back then Tszyu was a genuine wolf in sheep’s clothing, eradicating those that opposed him with vicious game plans underpinned by effective tactics and powerful momentums that almost always brought home sinister consequences for anyone believing they had what it took.
Underneath Tszyu’s smooth appearance, that itself appeared almost as if it were calculated not to antagonize, was a reality symbolizing Tszyu as a genuine boxing mastermind in possession of sensational vision, accuracy and balance.
For those that knew him on the amateur circuit, the symbol was an imposing monument to the Russian program; an outstandingly strong and multidimensional competitor, who was at times capable of almost any technical boxing maneuver with unparalleled economy of motion.
Whilst modest in describing the true extent of the gap between Tszyu’s and Forrest’s abilities, the scores for that bout with Forrest were 32-9 in favor of Tszyu.
Anyone in disbelief of the claims thus far made about how one of Tszyu’s amateur accomplishments rationally translates to an audience usually measuring fighter’s potentials over 10 rounds or more within the professional fighting arena, need only visit youtube.com and examine Tzsyu’s confidence, speed, footwork, and his placement of punches used to defeat Forrest.
In that fight for the world amateur title’s gold medal, Tszyu cleverly disentangled all Forrest’s theoretical advantages until they became the symptom of all things second and silver.
It was a new experience for Vernon who years later became a world champion, but in with Kostya Tszyu, Forrest’s genes built him too tall and with too much reach.
Forrest’s familiarity with opponents being at the end of his arms combined with Tszyu’s ability to comfortably be elsewhere and still attack, created confusion for Forrest and perhaps more importantly a cornucopia of options for Tszyu that he creatively cashed in on to stomp home with the light welterweight gold for the Soviet Union in Sydney 1991.
The performance sensationally rippled through Australia and caught the ears and eyes of a trainer and promoter that knew a thing or two about the fight game.
It wasn’t as if Kostya Tszyu had just happened to peak at that stage of his amateur career. As an amateur Kotsya Tszyu fought 270 times and competed at the 1998 Seoul Olympic Games, and also at several world championship events.
As an amateur he won 259 fights and lost only 11. Most losses were early in his career and were later avenged, such as the loss to Andreas Zulow who Tszyu lost to at the Seoul Olympics, but then a year later returned the favor and beat him at the European Championships in Greece.
Kostya Tszyu still knew all the same tricks and skills he used to defeat Forrest, and probably more, when he was a professional; but such were his options that he opted to develop into a vicious power hitting KO artist rather than safety first pretty boy technician.
Should he have wished to, he could have done both.
Wonderful to have choices isn’t it?
Still despite performances like these Tszyu’s full suite of advantages over fighters he met without headgear were usually only observable by their final result; in the early stages of his professional career there were those that saw the apparent vulnerabilities and believed Tszyu would not win if he couldn’t land his right hand and continued to hang low with the left.
They believed Tszyu relied too heavily on unforced errors on the part of his opponents to win fights and as a result what happened was Tszyu’s peripheral fighting skills became underappreciated, and not easily interpreted or planned for. Not even by fighters with elite pedigrees and previously effective styles.
It seems ludicrous now that we know the true extent of Kostya Tszyu’s boxing prowess, but it said a lot about the state of the then current boxing strategists, who were at the time enjoying employment in a team considering the likelihood of being a genuine contender soon.
On the outer edges of extreme boxing, and heavily laden with talent not easily categorized Kostya Tzsyu simply had all the skills that mattered should one wish to make professional prizefighting look relatively easy. He had the stamina of an elite championship fighter, a telepathic ability to anticipate play, and a feline sense of balance that almost always ensured he was in a position to seriously unload and inflict.
Relocated to Sydney, Australia from Russia, he exploded onto the professional boxing scene in 1992 with 3 spectacular early-round knockouts, followed up immediately by defeating the seasoned Juan La Porte over 10 rounds.
The La Porte fight was only Tzyu’s fourth professional contest, and all four fights took place in 1992.
It was a sensational 12 month introduction into what Kostya Tszyu was about to become, and what Australian boxing history was about to inherit.
Kotsya Tszyu had the luxury of arriving just at the right time and place for Australian boxing; the sun had began to sink into the sea on the dawn of a whirlwind career of a raw edged fighter that had not only captured the hearts and minds of most Australian sporting fans for the previous 10 years; but one that had also been largely responsible for a boxing renaissance in the land down under; Jeff “the Marrickville Mauler” Fenech.
As the years of sustained hysteria associated with Jeff Fenech’s great career finally marked out its downward slope, Kostya Tszyu’s breathtaking performances were delivered with perfect timing for Australian prizefighting history. They mapped a nuclear ascent tracing out a perfect conjugate to the path now defined by Fenech’s graceful downward decent; with the common denominators being the trainer Johnny Lewis and the late and great boxing promoter Bill Mordey, who had both developed interest in Tszyu through being the grateful recipients of Kostya Tszyu’s chilling domination of Vernon Forrest in 1991, Sydney.
Together Mordey, Lewis and Tszyu sensationally shell shocked fight fan followers feeling a deep personal loss in the search for a pugilistic proxy to Jeff Fenech as his career slowly closed down.
Fans became magnetically attracted to the short haired Russian dynamo with a pig tail that could seriously fight instantly upon their introduction to him; Kostya Tszyu. And on the same day that Jeff Fenech lost to Azumah Nelson, marking the moment that his time as a young free spirited controversial prizefighter closed out, they received their first taste of what was to come as Tzsyu marched through Darren Hiles so aggressively, instructing him in matters of pain and loss.
At that moment Kostya Tszyu made enormous power attractive to those who feared and desired it the most; fans and opponents.
It was just the beginning.