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 John Ruiz: The Silent Rage of the Underdog
By Diego Morilla (March 1, 2003)
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If you want to know the unspoken truth about a real-life underdog’s chances of beating a three-division world champion, just ask John Ruiz about it. And while you’re at it, ask him about a fighter’s chances to become a self-made contender. Ask him how it feels to be taken out of the ring on a stretcher only to come back to defeat a former world champion and several prospects, and then become a top-ranked challenger and heavyweight champion in spite of every prediction.
Ask him about being hired on short notice to fight overseas against an undefeated local fighter, only to come back home with the victory and the title belt. Ask him about the particulars of building a dream of greatness over the mat of a homemade ring. Ask him whether he thinks that a mandatory heavyweight contender should risk the most coveted ranking spot in the sport by challenging the guy right beneath him to a championship eliminator. If you wish to know the truth, just ask John Ruiz.
But don’t be surprised, however, if the truth remains unspoken.
His moniker is a promoter’s nightmare. How in the world could someone use a nickname such as “The Quietman” and expect to be regarded as a force to be reckoned with in the most brutal sport in the world? Ask John Ruiz, and he’ll tell you.
Or then again, maybe he won’t.
Seemingly, the 30-year-old Chelsea, Massachusetts native of Puerto Rican descent prefers to let his fists do the talking. In his 44 fights as a professional, Ruiz has talked loudly and clearly enough to convince at least 39 of his opponents about the validity of his claims as a championship-caliber fighter. And yet, some people are still not convinced.
Part of this disbelief may stem from Johnny’s brutal defeat at the hands of fellow top-ranked contender David Tua, in a fight that left the former member of the US amateur boxing team laying on the canvas for more than five frightening minutes after only 19 seconds of action.
In that fight, Ruiz lost the WBC Intercontinental title that he had won on a short-notice trip to England a couple of years before. Predictably enough, a man who refuses to believe that luck has any part in the making of his destiny reacted in the only way known to him. He battled the odds once again, recovered from the severe and almost life-threatening beating, and came back with a bang. He manhandled Jimmy Thunder, an intimidating and heavy-fisted New Zealander, and then proceeded to annihilate once-beaten contender Ray Anis in only 22 seconds. He then crowned his astonishing recovery with a late-round stoppage of former IBF title-holder Tony “TNT” Tucker.
This victory afforded Ruiz the attention of Don King, who signed him to a multi-fight deal, added a few zeros to his bank account and helped him reach the top of the listings in his division.
But after signing with the world’s most renowned promoter, Ruiz found himself in the uncomfortable position of having his talents diminished by fans and press alike, who immediately linked his new position in the rankings to his new promoter’s alleged influence on the boxing organizations.
Ask Johnny about what he did about it
Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. In a move that left many people wondering about his mental fitness, John Ruiz challenged the guy on the number-two spot, undefeated 6-foot-7, 250-pound Michael Grant, to a winner-take-all fight. The challenge was unsuccessful, and so was Grant’s later try at the world championship held by Lennox Lewis, in a fight in which the towering-but-green boxer embarrased himself in one of the grossest mismatches in recent memory. Wanna ask Johnny about what he would have done to iceberg-slow Grant in that failed encounter? Go ahead. I don’t.
He then fought Evander Holyfield in what was immediately labeled as just another “Bum of the Month” affair. Not only did Ruiz beat him the first time around, only to get robbed in the final decision, he got his rematch and then became one of only two men to send Holyfield to the canvas in the process of beating him.
For any other media darling with a record built on fighters that couldn’t even compare with Johnny’s level of opposition, it would have been a monumental achievement. The victory would have automatically been saluted as the birth of a new powerhouse in boxing’s top division. Had bums like Grant or Kirk Johnson done the same thing, they would have been named heirs to the heavyweight empire without hesitation by the world’s boxing press.
It is hard to imagine why someone would doubt a dedicated and experienced contender like Ruiz based on just a couple of setbacks, but in today’s boxing there’s no such thing as the benefit of the doubt. It looks as if no fighter deserves respect no matter what they do to earn it, which is funny for a sport in which its practitioners should be given immediate respect just for climbing through the ropes to risk their lives in their search for glory.
But for someone like Ruiz, this way of thinking is not an impediment to reach for the top. It is just an annoying delay. His guts, his dedication, his boxing talent and his will to beat the odds can compensate for all the doubts of the world.
As a budding boxing journalist in the Boston area in the mid ‘90s, I met Johnny at his handmade gym in Somerville, Mass. In the middle of a working class neighborhood, Johnny’s gym was a landmark and a school of blue collar ethics — hand-made ring, home-made punching bag platforms, self-made destiny. His path was already set, and probably his destiny of making it on his own terms and making the best out of every bad deal he was offered was already set, too.
With silence as a weapon and humility as his main virtue, the Johnny I knew didn’t mind fighting the odds only to learn that a new fight awaited on the other side of the road.
And even though all of this should be enough to convince anyone about Ruiz’s credentials as a legitimate world champion, to many observers the questions remain. Will his fists be able to roar the truths that his mouth refuses to assert? Will he raise to the occasion once again? Will he be able to unleash the silent rage of the underdog on the great Roy Jones Jr.? Does he stand a chance?
Still unconvinced, uh.?
Well, you can always ask John Ruiz about it.
E-Mail Diego Morilla at d_morilla@hotmail.com
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