HARRY ARROYO CAREER DVD COLLECTION
TERRENCE ALLI CAREER DVD COLLECTION
Terrence Alli's stomach muscles rise magnificently, sets of impressive brown ridges that inevitably
attract one's sight line. Pity the fragile fist that foolishly attempts to make a dent.
Intimidation.
Terrence Alli's self-assured smile is no camouflage. Nor are the bright eyes, the gold tooth, or the brown derby. Rather, they're personal statements. Lots of fighters are confident.
But only a few are sure.
Intimidation.
Terrence Alli's highlight film features only one constant, that mad dash from his corner at the start of every round, a psychological ploy that can eventually do more damage than any flashy jab-cross-hook combination. The rest of the package includes dancing and slugging, caution and creativity, slick boxing and crude phonebooth warfare. Total unpredictability. "I have five videotapes of Alli, and they all show him differently," said IBF lightweight champion, Harry Arroyo, a thinking man's fighter who didn't know what to think.
Intimidation.
But Terrence Alli features more than pretty muscles, costly teeth, and full-back-up-the-middle assaults. He can also fight, flashing fast hands, ample power, neat boxing skills, and a dependable chin, sometimes separately, sometimes all at once.
We've known for more than a year that Hairy Arroyo can fight. And we were pretty sure that he couldn't be intimidated. For those reasons, a ticket for the Arroyo-Alli championship clash at Bally's Park Place Hotel in Atlantic City became as hot as a free yank on a million-dollar jackpot slot machine.
In fact, according to Boardwalk veteran Frank Gelb, promoter Bob Arum's site coordinator, ticket interest was the best, "I've seen since a Matthew Saad Muhammad-John Conteh fight in Atlantic City in 1979."
The interest in Arroyo-Alli was testament to excellent matchmaking, the undiminishing popularity of the lightweight division, and the rise of Harry Arroyo. In truth, despite the CBS cameras and the title tag, no one expected Arroyo-Alli to generate as much attention as it did. Until he was stopped by Jose Luis Ramirez, Edwin Rosario, not Arroyo, was thought to be the best 135 pounder in the world. And how was Arroyo-Alli ever going to approach last November's Ramirez- Rosario explosion, one of the most dramatic lightweight brawls in years? Ray Mancini, not Youngstown, Ohio, neighbor Harry Arroyo, was still the most popular and recognizable 135-pounder in the world, and the Mancini-Livingstone Bramble rematch, not Arroyo-Alli, was the one lightweight fight the fans had to see. And Hector Camacho, not Harry Arroyo, was the consensus choice as the 135-pounder most likely to succeed supreme lightweight rulers Roberto Duran and Alexis Arguello and achieve superfighter status.
But Arroyo-Alli, fought on a convenient weekend—between the AFC and NFC championship games and the Super Bowl—sold itself. Viewers of ESPN's weekly boxing show had grown accustomed to regularly welcoming Alli, the energetic, colorful. 24- year-old Guyana-born entertainer extraordinaire, as a Thursday night prime time visitor. Alli first introduced himself as a late substitute for Howard
Davis Jr. on an ESPN special in November 1983. He overwhelmed the capable Ivan Montalvo (KO 5) and, two fights later, won the network's lightweight title with a close 12-round verdict over world class Melvin Paul. Alli defended that crown four times in 1984, scoring kayo wins over John Sinegal and Frank Newton and points victories over Efrain Nieves and Victor Babilonia. Though Paul remained the finest lightweight he had faced, Alli's other ESPN title fight victims had been capable 135 pounders. The jump to Arroyo was certainly a graduation into the big leagues (CBS), but a deserved one.
Arroyo, of course, had enjoyed a rather distinguished 1984 as well. His January upset decision over Robin Blake labeled him genuine. His April stoppage of Choo Choo Brown crowned him king of the IBF lightweights. And his first defense, a rugged September kayo of the previously unbeaten White Lightning Brown, established him as one of boxing's finest counterpunchers, a cool technician who had first learned the virtue of patience as a child at the dinner table.
"I was one of 16 children," he says "and we took turns eating dinners."
Handsome, soft-spoken, and far less emotional than Mancini, Arroyo developed a national following of his own in 1984, and CBS was anxious to spotlight him in the first quarter of 1985, one of the hottest three months in the history the hottest three months in the history of the love-hate relationship between
TV and boxing. But as network boxing adviser Mort Shama( and Arum's chief matchmaker, Teddy Brenner, knew, slow and steady Harry needed the right dance partner. In his first network appearance, in 1982 against Joe Manley, Arroyo took a 10-round spin with a mirror image and was offered
little to counter against; he barely escaped with a 10-round verdict and his unblemished record. But those bombardier B Boys, Blake and the two Browns, all tried to remove Arroyo's head from his shoulders, swing by swing. A counter puncher's delight.
It is difficult to picture the ebullient Terrence Alli waiting for anything,whether it be a traffic light, a late friend, or the most subtle of cracks in an opponent's defense. So no one anticipated a dull battle at Bally's. "He will have no trouble finding me, I'll be the one punching all the time," Alli said. And when asked what the fight plan would be, Allis trainer, Don Hayes, answered with one word:
“Pressure."
As if this delightful pairing needed any prologue, a relatively insignificant prefight gesture encapsulated the personalities of both champion and challenger and told uninformed viewers all they needed to know about who was fighting. Arroyo, minus the entourage that accompanied Alli, entered the ring only seconds after his adversary. He immediately crossed the canvas and approached Alli, his face as expressionless as a man cruising the aisles of a supermarket. Alli was facing his corner and did not see the chaimpion coming until his friendly hand was offered. But for Terrence Alli, this was no time for high fives, low fives, or any variations of patty-cake. The challenger's eyes widened and he quickly turned, right fist tight and cocked. Arroyo couldn't hide his amusement and grinned all the way back to his corner. After the opening bell sounded, however, Harry Arroyo knew it was time to make war, not friends. Alli didn't disappoint, racing across the ring as promised. But there was Arroyo uncharacteristically charging out as well, and only his delivery of a right ross prevented a mid-ring head-on collision that might have produced who knows what unfortunate damage.
The first round was meaningless, only because of what happened in the second. All missed and Arroyo countered and scored neatly to the body in the first, scored by all three judges for the champion. But Allis sneaky power
manifested itself early in the second,
when a right over a lazy Arroyo jab
connected with such violence and au-
thority that the champion had to grab
the top right to keep vertical. Arroyo's
left glove touched the canvas, howev-
er, and referee Tony Perez correctly
ruled a knockdown. The round must
have seemed endless, for before it
had concluded, Arroyo was troubled
again, this time by Allis wide, strong
left hooks. At this early stage, the
champion's prospects had to be
termed poor; Alli easily eluded all at-
tempts at clinching by simply shoving
Arroyo away, and the champion's jab,
at least on this day, was not sharp
enough to exact a toll for Allis
aggressiveness.
Alli did not decelerate either, end-
ing the third with a beautiful three-
punch combination and bruising Ar-
royo's left cheekbone in the fourth.
Still, the pace and Arroyo's well-
earned reputation as a sleepwalking
starter had to be considered. One
ringsider's notes included the scrib-
bling, "Watch for Alli burnout."
"He started breathing heavily [as
early as round four], but he was deter-
mined; he kept coming," said Arroyo,
who was forced to repeatedly retreat
and struggle on the inside and off the
ropes. But the champion had anticipat-
ed that in this bout, infighting would
be a necessity. He matched Alli flurry
for flurry in the fifth, sixth, and sev-
enth, and continued to drive his right
into Alli's ribs.
As the middle rounds progressed.
the lightweights began to demonstrate
clear signs of respect Each stopped
shooting out of his corner at the start
of the rounds, and both opted to rest
for portions of the incessant infighting.
Terrence Alli was proving that he was
indeed a fighter. As a result, Harry Ar-
royo would have to prove that he was
indeed a champion.
"They keep getting tougher," Ar-
royo said afterward, admitting that the
riddle of Alli had not been as easily
solved as those of the B Boys.
Alli rebounded to regain a slight
edge in the eighth, ninth, and 10th,
though he lost a point for hitting after
the bell ending the 10th. "Keep the
pressure, keep the pressure," Hayes
and manager Jimmy Glenn screamed
to their fighter, realizing that the title
would change corners only if Alli
could continue to hustle and force Ar-
royo to the ropes and corners. For
rounds 11 through 15, were a true
champion shines, were the road mark-
ers in Arroyoland.
Between the 10th and 11th, ring an-
nouncer Michael Buffer informed the
crowd that Alli had been penalized.
The announcement upset Alli, who
said, "I was upset. I wanted to know
why. I was too excited and overanx-
ious and I wanted to knock him out."
Perhaps only in boxing can an ath-
lete be excited and full of energy and
zest and, less than 30 seconds later, be
flat on his back, motionless, and the
subject of instant medical supervision.
It took a perfect blend of ring intelli-
gence, technique, and raw power for
Arroyo to end the afternoon early in
the 11th. And he did it with one short
stroke, like a surehanded golfer bag-
ging a 14-footer to win in sudden
death on the 15th green. One of Ar-
royo's only steady methods of scoring
had been that lead right to Alli's side.
When Alli saw Arroyo dip and lower
is vision to the challenger's midsection
he properly dropped his left-right elbow
to defense the blow. But he also created
an unmistakable route to his
unprotected jaw, Arroyo smart
enough to serve up the bait, was also
strong enough to reel in the game.
Boom! Up came Arroyo with his right,
crossing it splendidly to Alli's sweet spot.
Arroyo's follow up bullets-the
right that sent Alli to the neutral corner,
the right that landed after Alli had
already fallen, and the series of shots
following Perez's eight count—were
little more than dressing. The bottom
line: Harry Arroyo retained his title after
a fierce, close dog fight with a single punch.
"I was really looking for the left
hook because he did take a lot of
feints," said Arroyo, who applied ice
to the right hand he sprained early in
the bout at the postfight press confer-
ence. "But I decided to fake going to
his side and hope he'd try to block it,
which he did."
“I saw him getting closer and closer
with that right hand each round,” said
John Russell, Arroyo's trainer. “And
Alli had started leaning in.”
“The fight went the way I thought it
would,” added lightweight contender
Tyrone Crawley, an interested observer
at ringside. “Harry had to hurt him
to make him show respect. And that
didn't happen til the 11th round. Until
then, I thought Alli was outpunching
him three to one. No doubt Arroyo's
one of the best out there. Of the three
lightweight champions, he's the best.”
Arum, whose relationship with Arroyo
somewhat compensates for the fact that
he no longer makes money promoting
Mancini, hinted that the champion's
next defense, to be televised by CBS
on April 6th, will likely be against
Florida's Adolfo Medel. Other names
mentioned were bomber Chris Calvin,
USBA champion Jimmy Paul and
Blake. Of the four, Paul is the best
and the only boxer. You can bet his
style will likely disqualify him from
the running. After that?
“Late June, Hector Camacho, Madison
Square Garden,” said Arum.
Wouldn't that be something? The
brash fiery “Macho Man” a fighter
with many of Alli's qualities and
many of his own, against cool Harry O,
with two undefeated records and a world
title at stake. Can't you just see the brash
Camacho badmouthing the quiet Arroyo
at the press conference, blinding the champion
with all that jewelry, dizzying him with that street
talk, trying to intimidate him...
Excerpted from KO June 1985
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