Where's all the 'ead movement gone? by Terry Dooley Jun 12th 2008

Throughout Kevin Mitchell's last two fights – against Carl Johanneson and Walter Estrada respectively – the cry from the onlookers remained the same. In his fight with Johanneson, Mitchell was hit repeatedly by a fighter who is slower than molasses. Against Estrada, Mitchell was caught with flush headshots by a man who, despite mixing in good company, should not have caused Mitchell as many problems as he did. Throughout both fights the same statements have been made about Mitchell: “Where has the head movement gone? (in general)”; or “The head movement is not there tonight (against Johanneson)”; and “The head movement is not there tonight (against Estrada)”. Endless cries of “the head movement is not there tonight” (spread over two fights) can only mean one thing; the head movement is not there at all. This is not a swipe at Mitchell either. The same statement can be made about any number of British fighters. Mitchell exhibits the type of restricted head movement you would expect to see at a ‘Whiplash Sufferers Unite Against Head Movement' convention. On Friday night Paul Appleby, in his title win over John Simpson, came in with his back straight and his head a sitting target. Alex Arthur has never quite mastered this aspect of boxing either. Further up the ladder, at real world title class, Joe Calzaghe almost paid the price for his static head when squeaking out a win over American veteran Bernard Hopkins. For years Ricky Hatton has walked onto shots with his head held high, paying the price against Floyd Mayweather. In Britain we pride ourselves on “being able to hold our heads high” - but this is ridiculous. Why do we consistently produce boxers who lack the defensive nuances of American, and Mexican, fighters? One reason given on Saturday, although it has also popped-up in relation to other boxers, is that Kevin Mitchell knew Estrada's limitations and was able to ditch the head movement, and the other vagaries of defence, in order to march his opponent down. This is a fair point. On the other hand, if a fighter fighting at this level decides to forgo defence, how can we be sure that when the time comes for the fighter to have a solid defence they will be able to put it into place? For other fighters, also, the road to 20+ fights is signposted with bad habits. Most of the defensive flaws Alex Arthur possessed prior to the Michael Gomez fight are still present, proving, perhaps, that early mistakes are never completely erased. Are other factors contributing to the lack of head movement in British boxing, our amateur system for example? In the amateur game the onus is on producing boxers suited to winning fights based on the computer scoring system. Consequently the outstanding amateurs move around the ring, fling out quick scoring blows, then move around the ring, all the while wearing huge headguards and gloves the size of pillowcases. Amir Khan spent the early days of his professional career coming to terms with the fact that if you have your chin high in the air people will attempt to whack it. A heavy knockdown at the hands of Willie Limond did not reinforce this lesson. Like so many British fighters Khan moves in with his head, and therefore chin, high in the air whilst wading away with shots. Perhaps the lack of head movement is as British as cucumber sandwiches. Certainly British boxers of the past were not as adept as, say, a young Mike Tyson when it came to bobbing and weaving. In fact for a long time the upright back and rigid guard of the British, and European, fighters recalled the cinema character Herbert Pocket, who challenged Pip, the protagonist of ‘Great Expectations', to a fight before promptly ‘putting his dukes up' in the traditional British boxing pose, only to be twice dumped to the floor by the robust attacks of Pip. It is a stylistic thing, the British have no real style making it unfeasible for us to produce fighters with the kind of rolling suppleness shown by a young Mike Tyson or a young Shane Mosley. When we do produce these types, for example Nigel Benn, they are an anomaly to be marvelled at. Our stiff upper-lipped approach to life requires stiff-backed boxers who throw out a constant left jab whilst keeping a tight guard; head movement of any kind being best left to the fighters who box out of our former colonies. Could this be the crux of the matter? Are our fighters too damn British to move their heads, thinking that anyone who does so is plain crackers? On reflection this is probably not the main reason but it is food for further thought. Therefore, if you will let me indulge in a flight or fuzzy reasoning, we need to go beyond the pale. We need to open our minds to the fact that this lack of defensive nous on our part may be down to something completely and utterly unsubstantiated; I think we may have found the cause. You see, the British have no rhythm. We cannot dance. As Maggie Thatcher once said (when discussing Joe Bugner) we can produce movements but that is about it; our fighters can move across the ring adequately, but we cannot swagger across it in the manner of John Travolta strutting across a dance floor. Go to any number of British nightclubs for the proof of this. We box like we dance, moving around in circles before bum rushing someone when we think they are ready to be taken. Contrast this with American, Mexican and Latin boxers. American boxers often move their heads well, instead of marvelling at this we bemoan their low left hands, fearing that this low left (which is not a political party led by Derek Hatton) is invading our culture in much the way obese people and casual shootings are hitting our shores (solution? Shoot the obese people). Yet, despite low lefts, both Floyd Mayweather and Bernard Hopkins made our two premier boxers look like kill-crazy primates. It could be that this low left, coupled with naturally better dancing skill, is a necessary ornamentation to the relaxed American defensive style. Think about people with natural rhythm – Michael Jackson (although he seemed to loose rhythm the whiter he became), John Travolta and Linda Lovelace – they often carry a low left hand during their day-to-day lives (especially Linda Lovelace who likes to keep it cocked). It is a rhythmic device; a low left is perfect for causally clicking your fingers whilst crooning ‘doobie-doobie-doo' and beating up the stiff Brits. This cultural funkiness creeps into the US boxing style and leaves us Brits seeking to copy, whilst never mastering, it. A similar logic applies to Mexican fighters. Inspired by their rumbling up-tempo music the Mexican fighters thunder forward with a guile that belies our misapprehension of them as marauding maniacs. The forward motion of a good Mexican fighter masks the intelligence of his approach. Recent greats like Julio Caesar Chavez and Marco Antonio Barrera had long hard careers, often working away right in front of a guy, yet they lasted their careers better than many British fighters. In particular Chavez was brilliant at moving in whilst avoiding shots, he also, uncannily, could keep his eyes on his opponent when taking the return shots, when inside he would devastate his opponent (insert Linda Lovelace gags here). In dancing terms the British style of boxing is as formal as our traditional dances. At the end of a British dance you finish with a polite “thank you” and eighteen-years of unrequited affection. When a Latin or Mexican dance is over villages are devastated, women are left pregnant and the cuckolded take their revenge, with guns. Perhaps a mixture of factors causes the British head movement shortfall. To add insult to uncertainty other countries seem to produce fighters who are recognised as defensive geniuses yet are constantly in range to be hit; Roberto Duran, James Toney and Nicolino Locche are three names that spring immediately to mind. All three of them fought inside the kill zone and took shots yet, importantly, they were never there for the follow-up shots. Perhaps we have stumbled upon the problem. British fighters are a little too 'honest' for their own good. Upon taking a shot they do not immediately think about how to avoid the following blow, instead seeking to simultaneously set free their own shots. Overall, then, the problem is caused by a number of things, and this is good because a solid defence is constructed around a number of differing factors also. We talked about head movement as if it is the holy elixir that will wash away all defensive problems. In reality head movement needs to be natural in order for it to be effective; natural head movement is itself reliant on a supple back; our backs naturally lose this suppleness in our early twenties; therefore if you rely exclusively on great head movement you will end-up exposed later in your career. A multi-layered problem calls for a multi-layered solution and the solution to the head movement quandary is to go back to the nuts and bolts of boxing. There are only six punches in boxing. A jab, a cross, left hook, right hook, left uppercut, right uppercut (reverse for a southpaw). 'Bolo' punches, 'The Bob Fitzsimmons switch' and 'The check left hook' are not punches seven, eight and nine, they are variations on the existent punches, with differing feints and switches of balance thrown in. Once you understand that there are only a certain amount of punches to block you realise that a tight guard blocks a fair few of them, as does the long-lost art of blocking, parrying and slipping shots. If you are proficient with these intricacies of defence then you will be able to withstand most attacks whilst also ensuring you can tailor your defence to the situation at hand, it worked for Ken Buchanan on the world scene. Indeed, the rolling thunder of the USA style, as exhibited by Nigel Benn, was overcome by British defensive grit as Michael Watson covered-up and defused Benn in their memorable encounter. The dizzying brilliance of natural head movement fades over time but a good jab, a solid grasp of the technical intricacies of defence and a stiff guard can overcome all of this. Next time someone asks a fighter where the head movement is he should respond "In the bin, along with the low left hand. Now watch this parry."

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