Analysis : Leonard-Hearns, the Sequel, Was Worthy of What Came Before

Examined from a more distant perspective than 1989, this decade will likely loom as one of boxing’s greatest, and mostly for the intrigue offered by two of its most charismatic performers. Sugar Ray Leonard and Thomas Hearns, though shadows of the two men who met in that benchmark of boxing events back in 1981, only deepened that intrigue Monday night in a draw that was oddly satisfying for all its inconclusiveness.

It is difficult to believe that Hearns, whose loss to Leonard in this same desert setting eight years ago has been one of the sport’s more remarkable open wounds, did not actually beat his longtime tormentor. Though in perilous straits often enough, Hearns did provide the only two knockdowns of the fight. And the fact that Hearns himself, he of the glass chin, did not wither under Leonard’s barrages was also impressive.

Yet few were disappointed by the decision, certainly not the fighters themselves, who appeared together after the fight, each wearing a grin of gratitude. Perhaps in a few days the fighters will feel regret, sense a missed opportunity. Hearns might realize how close he came to the redemption that only Leonard offered. And Leonard might wonder why he didn’t move more, why his classic finishing touch was not quite enough to put Hearns away. He might wonder if he’ll be dogged another eight years by the indomitable Hit Man.

The fight held the fury of youth, if not the talents. The third round, when Leonard cracked Hearns a shuddering punch to the top of the head, developed into a scarifying stretch with Hearns coming out on top and driving Leonard into the canvas.

The fifth round recalled the first fight, when Leonard, trailing on points, came back in the 14th round to send Hearns sliding along the ropes. Here, too, Hearns appeared to be helpless, wobbly, one more right hand away from a knockout.

There were moments throughout the fight. At times Hearns sneaked his jab into Leonard’s face at will. Others, Leonard was backing Hearns up. Several times Hearns measured Leonard yet could not hurt him. Leonard’s jaw, unlike Hearns’, is famous for its strong stuff. In the ninth, Leonard wobbled Hearns but could not put him away. In the 10th, Leonard cut him below the eye. In the 11th, a bravura round, when Hearns should have fought with care and did not, it was Leonard whose head was sent swinging back and forth in a brutal delivery of punches.

In the 12th, the noise reached a magnificent crescendo and then heightened as, even within the round, the momentum changed back and forth.

Neither was the fighter who met in 1981, of course. Though just 30, Hearns is no longer the guy who says lights out with each right hand. And Leonard, 33, was neither pretty nor clever in this one. But they did sustain a decade of excellence, a decade that started when both were welterweights and continues into super-middleweight days, right up to the end, if indeed this is the end.

If you didn’t like this fight, you can not ignore the spectacles they have staged since then. Leonard was a master at creating drama with his various retirements and a decade of will-he-won’t-he? that, teased by any other, might have infuriated the public. And Hearns became mysterious by his defeat, vulnerable (he even had other defeats), but a sulking and brooding presence waiting in the wings.

There were fights with Hagler and Duran, an amassing of titles and loot and recognition. A level of comfort earned by a dangerous and tricky trade. Cynics balked at the rematch, saying it came way too late. Yet cynics, in the end, allowed it to go on. These two, after all, never disappointed a fan. Leonard was spectacular in his comeback against Hagler. Hearns was even more spectacular in his loss to Hagler. Whatever happened in this fight, they deserved to trade on full careers, on name recognition if nothing else.

But as in the past, they delivered. At the end of the fight, it didn’t even seem necessary that a decision be announced. Hearns smiled goofily through a bloody mouthpiece, Leonard smirked in a self-satisfied way. Whatever had happened in the ring, was more important than what happened outside it.

Leonard, who may have worn the grin of a successful jewel thief, admitted that Hearns was more than he could handle. “A tough cookie,” he said.

Hearns, who was surprisingly content with the decision, likewise allowed that, “This man hurt me and he didn’t know it.” And: “He knew I could take him out and yet he came back.” He did not have it in him to rage against the decision, even question it. He somehow found satisfaction in the event, having decided he acquitted himself just fine. After all, there had been eight years of wondering.

There are any number of moments to remember from the fight. There is all kinds of speculation to follow. Will they meet in a third match to finally resolve their destiny or, better yet, will they allow their special decade to close with a lingering mystery? Who is better?

After the fight the two men sat next to each on a dais, with press and fans and family hooting away. Hearns, strangely ebullient, yelled: “Did we fight tonight?”

Then, with his old enemy still smiling at his side: “Did we give you what we wanted?”