Aaron Pryor vs. Antonio Cervantes
As the fighters awaited the opening bell they presented a study in contrasts. The 24-year-old Pryor couldn’t stand still. Keyed up and ready to go, he danced about the ring, shadow boxing and flexing his muscles and glaring at Cervantes. Meanwhile the champion sat slumped on his stool like a man patiently waiting for the next bus. A veteran of well over a hundred bouts, this appeared to be just another day at the office for “Kid Pambele,” his facial expression and body language that of someone ready for a dip in the hot-tub, not a world championship fight. Or maybe it was that of a ring-worn veteran who was ripe for the taking.
Columbia’s Antonio Cervantes was something of a mysterious figure to U.S. boxing fans. Despite the fact he had been a world champion for most of the preceding eight years, had dominated the super-lightweight division, and was a living legend in his native Columbia, his face and name were little known, most of his fights taking place in Venezuela and Panama. Another mystery was his age. He insisted he was 34, but he looked older; it was whispered he was past 40. And while he had won 13 straight since losing to the gifted Wilfred Benitez back in 1976, he was a decided underdog going into his defense against Pryor.
But the real mystery was why he was here in the first place, why he had agreed to do what so many would not: take on Aaron “The Hawk” Pryor, in his hometown, no less. But whatever back room deals may have been involved, Pryor finally had a title shot and an appearance on national television.
Pryor had been laying waste to the lightweight division, setting a breakneck pace to compliment his swarming, all-action style. In less than three years he racked up 19 straight wins, all but two by knockout. He was still “Aaron Who?” outside of his native Cincinnati, but the top contenders in the lightweight division were definitely aware of both his presence and his reputation for being a very dangerous individual.
Broadcast live on CBS, Pryor vs. Cervantes followed the timeless script of the proud, old king versus the young upstart in search of glory. At the bell, “The Hawk” tore after the champion, chasing him about the ring and firing a non-stop barrage of leather. Cervantes appeared briefly perplexed by the challenger’s aggression and the absence of any “feeling out” process but soon enough began to find openings for counter shots. Displaying admirable grace under pressure, the champion connected with counter left hooks as Pryor kept barreling in, a veritable buzzsaw, though he landed relatively few effective blows. Setting a whirlwind pace, he forced Cervantes into the ropes again and again but then, with seconds left in the round, a short counter hook followed by a right hand put Pryor down briefly on one knee. Round one to the champion.
The torrid pace continued in the second in what was clearly a contest between youthful exuberance and veteran ring-smarts. Cervantes repeatedly got home with clean punches as Pryor’s brazen attack left him wide open for counter shots, but it was the champion who appeared hurt near the end of the round this time, as Pryor landed two hard right hands. Returning to his corner at the bell, Cervantes could be seen gulping air, the pace already affecting his stamina.
With his cornermen shouting at Pryor to “Go get that old man!” he started the third with two more powerful rights as he worked to take full control of the battle. Seconds later a series of right hands put Cervantes on the run and opened a deep gash over his right eye. The champion scored with solid counters but the punches had no effect on the constantly charging Pryor. Like a shark, the sight of his quarry’s blood drove the challenger to attack with even more intensity, his unceasing assault driving a bewildered Cervantes from one side of the ring to the other. His legs already unsteady, he clinched and held to survive the round.
To his credit, the champion never gave up. Hurt, tired and bleeding, he fought back as Pryor went for the kill in the fourth. His counter punches kept landing on Pryor but they were like small pebbles thrown at a tank; they had no effect and the challenger just kept driving forward. Backing Cervantes into his own corner, Pryor unloaded with right hands. The champion, overwhelmed, tried to clinch but “The Hawk” shrugged him off and kept firing until a crushing overhand right landed flush on Cervantes’ chin and dropped him. The old king gallantly tried to rise but could not. The long championship run of “Kid Pambele” had come to a sudden end.
(by Michael Carbert)
