Boxing

It was just hours after his boxer's toughest fight, Cris Arreola's winning brawl over Travis Walker last Thanksgiving weekend, when Henry Ramirez stopped being Just Plain Henry. Boxing loves nicknames. So do trainers. Example: Ignacio Beristain is "Nacho." So, in the wee hours of that Nov. 29 night, there was Just Plain Henry, about to acquire a new label. Ramirez is Arreola's longtime trainer. His strategy and decision-making in the corner Saturday night at Staples Center will have a big bearing on whether Arreola can pull off a huge upset against World Boxing Council heavyweight champion Vitali Klitschko.

The last time Staples Center was filled to capacity for a prominent fight that attracted a national television audience, the insistence of one observant trainer saved the California State Athletic Commission from potentially suffering more than embarrassment. That was the night two hardened, plaster-caked inserts were to be wrapped into the hands of Antonio Margarito as he prepared to defend his world welterweight title against Shane Mosley. "I know for a fact that if I wouldn't have been there saying something, he would've walked right into that ring," said Nazim Richardson, Mosley's veteran trainer.

It took a day, but Lamar Odom's smile and infectious personality returned. He joked and talked about his beloved New York Yankees and the NFL and demonstrated his new boxing skills Wednesday. Fun-loving, easy-going Lamar Odom was back, even after he had been tailed by paparazzi in about a half-dozen vehicles on his way to Lakers practice. At Tuesday's media day, Odom looked uncomfortable when all the talk surrounded his marriage Sunday to reality TV star Khloe Kardashian.

When I was a young boxing writer, I once was invited to watch historic fight films with a small group that included Sugar Ray Robinson, by then long retired from the ring. Suffice to say, I was -- by several orders of magnitude -- the most ignorant person in the room, but the deference our companions paid even Robinson's briefest comment was striking. For my part, I recall being struck by the unexpected sophistication -- even delicacy -- of his descriptive vocabulary, which was studded with phrases borrowed from the worlds of dance and music, mainly jazz, and framed with a kind of poetic precision.

Bill Dwyre's Sept. 27 article about the Cris Arreola-Vitali Klitschko fight was very kind to Arreola, but not very honest. It was painfully obvious that Arreola reached his level of incompetence. Before: What did he do in training camp? Eat? Have you ever seen such a blubbery blob in a championship fight before? He looked like he was 25 pounds overweight. During: He looked like a plodding street brawler with very few boxing skills. Footwork? Nada. After: There's no crying in boxing!

Julio Cesar Chavez, who not too long ago was the biggest thing in boxing, is fast falling into sad irrelevance. Every day, he gets smaller. Can't he realize it by now? He has skipped news conferences. There are reports of financial disarray, accusations that he struck his wife. He refused to accept his beating at the hands of Oscar De La Hoya last June. All of this is sad enough.

Felix Savon, the saving grace. At the end of a surprisingly shabby day of gold-medal fighting and unsurprising dodgy scoring Saturday at Alexander Memorial Coliseum, Savon did what Savon usually does: He rose above it all, above the politics and the protests, the Cuba bashing, the Cuba praising and the Cuban expectations of a shower of gold.

Riddick Bowe's promoter was fined and suspended by the New York State Athletic Commission Thursday as the result of a brawl that broke out after the former heavyweight champion's disqualification victory over Andrew Golota July 11 at Madison Square Garden. Bowe was not fined or suspended, but his manager, Rock Newman, will not be able to attend, even as a spectator, any bout or exhibition Bowe engages in in New York through July 31 under an agreement reached with the commission.

Floyd Mayweather's hand was raised. He celebrated, the Alexander Memorial Coliseum crowd roared, logic prevailed. And then everything swerved into Olympic boxing bizarro land, a mysterious place full of futile protests, glitchy computers, dark hints of intrigue and blatant incompetence. We have been here before. Previous visitors to this now-familiar destination include Roy Jones Jr. in the 1988 Seoul Games and Eric Griffin in the 1992 Barcelona Games.

The road toward a return to a world-title fight resumes for Rafael Ruelas of Sylmar with a 10-round junior welterweight bout against veteran Livingstone Bramble on Friday night in Atlantic City, N.J. Ruelas (45-3), former International Boxing Federation lightweight champion, will make his third appearance as a junior welterweight after recording consecutive second-round knockouts this year over Tomas Barrientes and Mike Walsh.