I'll start
by saying this right off the bat; Mark “Too Sharp” Johnson was the first
world-class fighter I ever established a rapport with when I began covering the
game back in 1996 (Where does the time go?!). Back then, I was doing a local
radio show called “The Main Event” on a small station (KIEV 870) and Johnson, then the IBF
flyweight champion, was under the Forum Boxing banner. So I admit to being more
than a tad biased here but to this day, I still maintain that this quicksilver
southpaw is among the very best I have ever seen in the squared circle.
And here's
hoping that after the ballots are turned in for this year’s International
Boxing Hall of Fame class (I'm told they should be postmarked by the 31st of this month), Johnson will be having his fist encased next June in Canastota. Because while a guy like Thomas
Hearns is a shoo-in, the little big man from Washington D.C. isn't
such a sure thing.
The problem
with “Too Sharp” was never talent-related but that in an era defined by the
likes of Roy Jones and Oscar De La Hoya, Johnson was of the wrong race (an
African-American in a division usually reserved for Latinos), on the wrong
coast (despite living in the nation’s capital, he was promoted during his prime
from the long-gone Los Angeles-based Forum Boxing) and unfortunately, didn't
have the correct gene pool. If there was any justice, God would have made him a
welterweight so he could've battled the likes of the “Golden Boy,” Felix Trinidad and
Ike Quartey.
But this
guy could box and he could bang. Watching him was something special. In a lot
of respects, he spoiled me. While everyone lauds Gary Russell Jr. and his
immense potential, I've been there and done that three times with “Too Sharp”
already.
“One of the
greatest of all-time,” said Rudy Hernandez, who during his days as a junior
welterweight once won a tournament at the Forum and later trained his brother,
the late “Chicanito” to world titles. A hardened veteran of the sport,
Hernandez throws around compliments of this variety like manhole covers. “[Johnson]
had it all,” he continued, “He could punch. He could fight. He could box. He
could pretty much do anything and everything he wanted to. I've always
mentioned his name as one of the great ones. He was kinda like a Pernell
Whitaker but with punching power and willing to stay in the pocket and fight.”
See,
everything Max Kellerman thought Zab Judah could be, Johnson
was.
“Everything
stood out about him,” said noted manager Cameron Dunkin, who says that of the
numerous world champions he has handled, Johnson was perhaps his most gifted.
Dunkin managed Johnson for a short spell in the late ‘90s. “He had everything
mentally as a fighter. He took care of himself. He trained hard, skill-wise,
unbelievable, and people said to me, ‘Y’ know, he was a great boxer’- you gotta
remember when Danny Romero was getting ‘pound-for-pound, the top puncher,’ the
exact same opponents that he fought that went 12 rounds were getting knocked
out- and not one guy, two or three guys- in one round by Mark Johnson. ‘Too
Sharp’ did not fight like a puncher like Romero but he was a much bigger
puncher than Romero. He was a calculating stone-cold killer.”
Like Marvin
Hagler before him, Johnson had three strikes against him: he was black,
southpaw and too damned dangerous for his own good. With Ricardo Lopez firmly
entrenched at 105 and Michael Carbajal no longer in his prime by the time
Johnson won his first world title in 1996, the big money out there were guys
like Romero and Johnny Tapia, both handled by Dunkin early in their careers. He
admits to consciously steering them away from Johnson.
“More than
consciously, consciously and unconsciously,” he cracked. “I saw him live at the
Forum several times and saw him in the amateurs and he was just too fast and
again, you put a guy like that who's a fast fighter and a boxer- but he could
crack- he could knock your head off. And I saw him with Romero and I knew it
was a bad, bad fight and luckily, he never had to fight him for his title. But
with Tapia, I always thought, ‘Y’ know, Tapia's so tough and Tapia's a great
fighter and he can figure things out’ and then when I went over and worked with
Mark, that first fight over at the MCI Center [in April of 1999 versus Ratanachai Singwancha for the vacant
IBF super flyweight belt], I saw him warming up and I thought, ‘Oh, my God,
this is a complete fighter’ and no disrespect, both Romero and Tapia were great
champions but comparing these guys with Mark Johnson, it's just not fair to
them.
“Mark
Johnson was a whole different level. He was a tremendous, tremendous talent.”
One example
of what Dunkin points out is Francisco Tejedor, the same guy who gave Romero
such fits back in April 1995 for his IBF flyweight crown. Tejador lost a 12-round
decision to “Kid Dynamite” but was blasted out in a minute-and-a-half by
Johnson’s perfectly executed counterpunch for that then-vacant belt at the Anaheim Pond
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxW5ChsOLHk)
a year later. Rich Marotta, who called that show, recalls, “That was the
biggest shock on the card. A lot of big-name fighters fought on that card and
he won in a first round knockout and I think, from that point on, you take a
look at his next few years, the way he dominated, he was really something.”
Then there
was the technically proficient Arthur “Flash” Johnson who gave Tapia all he
could handle in July of 1995, losing a majority decision to him in Tapia’s
hometown of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Against “Too
Sharp” at the DC Armory, he was blasted out of there in
71 seconds (http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Mark+Johnson+Arthur+Johnson&aq=f).
“It was ridiculous. He blew him outta there,” recalled Marotta. Immediately
after that fight, inside the ring, Johnson grabbed the microphone and began a
chant of, “WE WANT JOHNNY TAPIA! WE WANT JOHNNY TAPIA!” But in a bitter irony
known to too many fighters like “Too Sharp,” the very essence of their talent
and skill made them too much of a risky proposition to marquee names like
Tapia, then a valuable Top Rank commodity.
By that time,
Johnson was promoted by Cedric Kushner but his true prime was his heyday at the
Forum, where he fought from 1993 (in an eight-round preliminary fight, where he
decisioned Rudy Bradley) until the beginning of 1997 (as one of the sport’s
premiere prizefighters). In his second outing out west, Johnson was brought in
as an opponent to Alberto “Raton” Jimenez,
at the time, rated in the top five across the board by all the sanctioning
bodies at 112 pounds. Later, Jimenez would capture the WBO belt but on this
night, he was bested by Johnson in what was a 12-round war and one of the best
unknown fights of the decade. If it were on “Boxing After Dark,” it would be
talked about in reverential tones. Instead, it's a hidden classic that only the
hardcore purists discuss. And don't think this wasn't a notable win. Back then,
you simply didn't win close decisions against boxers managed by the
highly-influential Ricardo Maldonado.
Being a
black flyweight in Southern California meant that despite being promoted by Forum Boxing, every fight was a road game
for Johnson as he faced one tough Mexican after another. He was a boxer without
a home base, hated as much as the Boston Celtics in the Great Western Forum on
certain nights.
“But y’
know something? A lot of those Mexican fans really liked Mark ‘Too Sharp’
Johnson. They gave him great respect over the years and you've seen it happen,”
stated Marotta. “There's been a number of fighters who have been able to not
just compete but beat a few Mexicans. I remember Roger Mayweather back in the ‘80s
and ‘90s and of course, [Manny] Pacquiao now and Pacquiao's earned that respect
from Mexican fighters and fans in a big way and Mark ‘Too Sharp’ Johnson was
kinda that guy in the ‘90s. The fans there were really respected him and he beat
a lot of those Mexican fighters right at the Forum. So in a sense, he was the
road guy but nonetheless, he achieved a lot of popularity.”
For
Johnson, the “B” in “B-side” stood for “black.” Usually when he fought at the
Forum, to steal a line from the great Jim Murray (more on that later), he
didn't fight just one Mexican but thousands of them at the same time. Through
all this, the few thousand loyal fans that would come to these monthly shows at
this now decaying arena and audiences on Prime Ticket got to see the sharpest
Johnson.
Marotta was ringside for many of these exhibitions of the “Sweet Science.” He
says, “If you look back at the fighters at the Forum, he's certainly top three
or four. The only ones I would put ahead of him in the eight, nine years I was
calling Forum Boxing right up until the time it ended would be Juan Manuel Marquez
and Marco Antonio Barrera, which is ironic because Mark was a real beater of
Mexican fighters. I think this was a guy who went further than I thought he was
going to go. I mean, not in terms of winning a championship but becoming a
greater fighter than I thought he was. When I first saw him, I thought, ‘Oh,
he's got really good potential and he might be able to win a world title. I
don't think he'll be a great fighter,’ but I think he turned into a great
fighter and he's one of those guys I thought really became better when he won
the world championship.”
Johnson may
not have earned transcendent popularity but he had hard-earned respect. He was
never the guy who would sell out a 10,000-seat arena but in an era when Washington D.C. produced the likes of
William Joppy, Keith Holmes, Andrew Council and other solid pros, it was
Johnson who was without question the commander-in-chief of the ring in this
jurisdiction. Johnson, like perhaps Charley Burley years ago and then later
Mike McCallum, is one of those rare fighters that, if you walk into a gym and
ask about him, will garner universal admiration and plaudits for his
abilities. Fans praise who they like. Trainers and the like praise those who
they respect.
Today,
there is a misguided definition of “skill.” It seems that if you jump in and
out and utilize your athleticism to avoid any contact in that ring, you're
viewed as being “skilled.” It says here that it really makes you boring and risk
averse. It might mean you're a very good athlete but not necessarily technically
proficient. Quickly jabbing twice and then initiating a clinch to not get hit is
one thing. It's a whole ‘nother thing to stand right in front of your foe, make
him miss twice by slipping and then counter with accurate punches.
See, that's real “skill.”
“That was
Mark ‘Too Sharp’ Johnson,” said Hernandez, in an admiring tone. “That guy, he'd
make you miss and he'd make you pay. And when he attacked you, his skills- I
mean, could you imagine him being Mexican? You have any idea how he would've
filled arenas?”
Alas, “Too
Sharp” wasn't and so he didn't. In fact, he couldn't even get on “Boxing After
Dark” till he was a bit past his prime. Even then, his fight was preempted
because of 9/11. Because the bout between Bernard Hopkins and Felix Trinidad had
to be backed up a few weeks, that meant Johnson’s bout on October 6th of that year would be bumped from HBO
for the rebroadcast of the fight. In what was a close, hard-fought ten rounder
against Rafael Marquez, he went out of the ring believing he had won a close
decision (despite being docked a point in the final stages of that fight by
referee Bobby Gonzalez who, let’s just say, had his biases) only to discover,
as he told me that next week, that the scorecards had been tabulated
incorrectly. Johnson found out about the changed result while watching the HBO
main event of Julio Diaz and Angel Manfredy in his hotel room.
In truth,
he was never quite the same after serving time for a domestic assault on his
ex-wife, Samantha, that kept him out of the ring for all of 2000. Johnson lost
some of his mojo and this period probably marked the end of his prime. We would
never again see the vintage Johnson. His last stand came in August of 2003, where he used all his
veteran moxie and guile to outfox and outhustle the talented Fernando Montiel
to capture his third major world title. After a few more fights, Johnson’s
career came to an end as he was stopped by Jhonny Gonzalez in eight. Seeing him
on this night must've been like what Baltimore Colts fans went through seeing
Johnny Unitas as a San DiegoCharger.
Nowadays,
Johnson is enjoying retirement in D.C. where he runs a program for at-risk
youth and he's still actively involved in boxing, training young amateurs. Every
day, I seem to get email notifying me of boxing discussions happening on his
Facebook page. It's obvious that the frustrations of his career haven't soured
his love for the sport.
Johnson was
a tough as he was talented. He was gritty as he was gifted. I've written in the
past that he was that great jazz musician who was never heard by the masses but
by those in clubs where he riffed or that MC who battled underground but never
cut a platinum album. In large measure, this was because “Too Sharp” was
avoided and deprived of opportunities. But those who saw him can appreciate
what he brought into the ring. Here's hoping that the best damn little fighter
I ever saw at least gets his just due in the end.
“He
deserves election, not just consideration,” says Marotta. “He deserves election
of the Hall of Fame.”
VOTERS
OK, while
I'm not a member of the BWAA (I know, I know) I asked two members who are if
they would be voting for Johnson. This is what Cliff Rold of BoxingScene.com had to say:
“I'm not voting for him this year for a simple reason: I know
only three guys get in every year. To get in first-ballot, I think a guy should
HANDS DOWN, NO-CONTEST be one of the top three fighters on ballot the year he
debuts. I don't think Johnson is, even though I think he eventually merits
induction. He didn't get my vote this year on that standard because I think
there are a lot of guys equally HOF-worthy who have waited longer.”
Then there
is Jake Donovan, who also writes for BoxingScene:
“Mark ‘Too Sharp’ Johnson is one of those
fighters you had to see in order to believe since his overall résumé doesn't
reveal very much. Even in an era of splintered titles, Johnson was still forced
to wait six years and 30 fights before getting a crack at a title.
“Even more frustrating was watching fighters he'd already soundly defeated
getting their shot ahead of him, all while he endured the toughest road
possible towards title contention. While others stayed home and were spoon-fed
soft touches, Johnson - a DC-based southpaw, took his act west as he was a
fixture on the Forum Boxing circuit.
“Johnny Tapia and Danny Romero were more celebrated at the time but largely due
to their boasting better connections. Johnson was unable to get either of them
in the ring (Tapia flat-out ducked him and moved up every time Johnson
attempted to join him at a given weight class) but trumped each in fights
against common opponents. Among the highlight reel includes first round
knockouts over Francisco Tejedor (who went 12 tough rounds with Romero a
year prior) and Arthur Johnson (the only time he was ever stopped and was also
arguably robbed in a title shot against Tapia a few years earlier).
“What was left of Johnson's prime was lost during a prison stint, as shown in a
pair of losses to a still green Rafael Marquez. Their first fight was close enough
to warrant a rematch but even a knockout loss four months later looks better in
retrospect considering the career Marquez went on to lead. Also looking even
better than it did at the time was Johnson's last hurrah - a title win in
August '03 over Fernando Montiel, who went on to become one of the premiere
little big men of his time.
“No single name in Johnson's win column immediately jumps out at you but it's
tough to fight those who are running in the other direction whenever you come
calling. His quality wins over tough opposition on the way up coupled with his
dominance against those willing to get in the ring with him during the prime
are why he belongs in the Hall of Fame. His peers refused to give him the chance
to shine during his heyday but the media now has a chance to right - and
rewrite - that wrong.”
MURRAY
The late, great Jim Murray once wrote a column about Johnson before his bout,
if I recall correctly, against Alejandro Montiel and he commented that in his
second pro bout in 1990, a loss to Richie Wenton (in Belfast, Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day) wasn't just like fighting one Irishman but 10 million of
them or something to that effect.
I tell ya; Murray could spin a line or three. He was one of the best ever (and
a great boxing scribe).
MOMENT
Folks have asked what my favorite “Too Sharp” moment was. While the KOs of
Tejedor and Johnson were spectacular, what I will never forget was the 12th round against Alejandro Montiel (Fernando's older cousin from Los Mochis) in a
fight where Johnson was hit low numerous times. It was a hard-fought and dirty
affair that got very heated.
In the last round, Johnson decided to mock Montiel by standing right in front
of him with his hands down by his sides, just daring him to hit him. Johnson
proceeded to slip, duck and evade every single shot coming his way. I never saw
Willie Pep live but I'm guessing this is what it was like. Even the Mexican
partisans had to grudgingly appreciate what they just witnessed.
It was something else.
