Ten Things About Kovalev-Caparello
by Sarah Deming
Saturday I headed to Atlantic City with some Russian comrades to see light heavyweight champion Sergey Kovalev knock out Blake Caparello in two. Due to the generous pour of the vodka martinis at the Revel Casino, I’m having trouble recalling everything, but ten things linger…
1. My Russian lesson on the ride over from the men in the Kovalev caps. I learned that the two heads on the Russian eagle represent secular and religious power, that Kovalev is from a small town in a harsh industrial area in the Ural Mountains, and - because I know no geography except subway lines and wine regions - that the Ural Mountains form the border between Europe and Asia.
2. The very beautiful and very pregnant wife of undefeated heavyweight Constantin Bejenaru in black sportswear with ample jewelry, dark hair in a glossy braid to her waist, looking like a special effect.
3. The dreadful Polish heavyweight from that Tyson Fury-Steve Cunningham undercard, shaped like a sea lion and unable to block jabs, exchanging brain damage with a journeyman nicknamed “King Charles” while the crowd roared approval.
[[MORE]]4. The guy who sat beside me during this fight, oozing marijuana fumes. He proceeded to watch the action through opera glasses although we were pretty close to the ring.
“How stoned are you right now?” I asked.
He flinched. “Are you judging me?”
I assured him judgement was the last thing on my mind. He offered me a pen filled with hash wax, which I declined.
5. Andre Rozier, trainer and designer of the much-coveted Havoc trunks, futilely exhorting Sechew Powell to stay off the ropes as he took a pounding from an undefeated Russian prospect. This was Powell’s fourth straight loss. What a drag to see a good boxer battle past his prime.
6. Blake Caparello taking his ring walk to Eminem’s “I’m Not Afraid,” a defensive musical choice which convinced me he would lose as badly as everyone expected.
7. Promoter Kathy Duva’s deadly red stilettos as she hugged Kovalev. I was worried they might poke holes in the ring and imagined a zamboni being brought in before the main event.
8. Sparkle Lee. I had never seen a woman referee such a high profile fight, let alone one between such large men. Sparkle is just 5'6" and built for speed. My friend Sue had mentioned seeing her in Gleasons recently refereeing sparring. I guess refs have to practice, just like boxers and writers.
I spent the first 30 seconds distracted by my intense desire for Sparkle to succeed on behalf of all women everywhere. I imagined she was nervous because she was keeping so much distance from the fighters, practically standing at the opposite corner of the ring.
Then Kovalev got caught off balance by a straight left and touched a glove down. Sparkle called it perfectly. The Russians around me bristled, but you could tell Kovalev had the Australian beat. The knockdown just embarassed him. By the time a lead right to the gut dropped Caparello to his knees in the second round, I had stopped watching Sparkle.
9. The aforementioned apres-combat martinis at the casino bar, where the ten-year-old son of one of the managers treated me to the most intelligent conversation I’d had all night. We discussed: dogs, parrots, fencing, children’s literature, the Space Needle, and the weather in Seattle.
10. Sergey Kovalev at the afterparty, looking like a happy lumberjack. It is very hard not to like him, although I will root against him when he faces the extraterrestrial pride of Philadelphia.
I asked Kovalev what he thought of having the third man in the ring be a woman.
“At first, when I hear woman referee, I think, ‘Woman?!’” He made a face of comical disbelief. “But then I see she is professional.”
“How did you know she was a professional?”
“The way she talk. The way she move.”