Back in 1905, big Jim Jeffries gave up the heavyweight championship of the world, undefeated and having run out of worthy challengers, or at least having run out of worthy Caucasian challengers, since the colour line was then firmly drawn.
He nominated two palookas to fight for the privilege of replacing him and refereed their contest himself. Marvin Hart beat Jack Root that night to stake his claim to the greatest individual title in all of sport. That you've probably never heard of Hart ought to be a clue as to his minimal impact on the wider world. It wasn't until Jack Johnson beat the man who beat Hart -- Canada's own Tommy Burns -- and then knocked out Jefferies, who attempted to reclaim the crown, that the traditional hierarchy of the sport was restored.
Vitali Klitschko and Corrie Sanders, who will meet in Los Angeles tonight for what HBO and Ring Magazine have declared is the "linear" heavyweight title, aren't Hart and Root. (For one thing, they're both a whole lot bigger.) But the parallels are certainly there in these, the darkest days for boxing since the pre-Cassius Clay era of the early 1960s, when mobsters and ring deaths claimed most of the headlines.
Lennox Lewis, a dominant champion who never really stirred the public's imagination, has walked away, almost certainly never to return. Those in line to replace him are, by and large, a motley crew, with far greater liabilities than assets.
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Last weekend, Chris Byrd retained one of the alphabet heavyweight titles, winning a hotly disputed decision over recycled Andrew Golota, who hasn't been taken seriously in boxing circles for years. Even at his best, Byrd's slick, southpaw style will never be a crowd pleaser.
On the same card, John Ruiz -- best remembered for his humiliating loss to Roy Jones Jr. -- claimed another, meaningless title by knocking out Fres Oquendo.
A week before that, Wladimir Klitschko, previously regarded as the more talented of the two fighting Ukrainian brothers, was knocked out by a non-entity named Lamon Brewster.
No one in that crowd is going to emerge as the next great heavyweight. Jones, if he defeats Antonio Tarver in their rematch for the light heavyweight title, may again dabble among the big men, but that's a temporary measure. The ghost of Mike Tyson, who still excites those who haven't really paid attention to his 15-year decline, has opted to peddle his myth on the K-1 mixed martial arts circuit, because there's more guaranteed money in that than in conventional boxing. And on the horizon, there's nobody.
No great prospects. No former Olympians with can't-miss talents. No Muhammad Ali, certainly. Not even a Gerry Cooney.
That's why there will be such an intense interest in tonight's bout, not necessarily among the sport's remaining fans, but within the promotional and television business that still relies on boxing as its mainstay. There, they desperately need a Klitschko victory. By virtue of his loss on cuts to disinterested, undertrained Lewis last June, he is perceived as the closest thing to a true heir apparent.
Sanders, who knocked out brother Wladimir last year (which doesn't seem quite so spectacular in hindsight, given that Brewster accomplished the same feat) is a left-handed 38-year old South African who has fought only four times in the past four years, and who pines to be a professional golfer.
So tonight, many silent prayers will be offered on Klitschko's behalf. The announcing crew from HBO will be forgiven if they wear their hearts on their sleeves and suggest he's the second coming. They need him, desperately to come through, to look like the best of a bad lot, to redefine the sport in his own image and to perhaps (though it's the longest of long shots) lure Lewis out of retirement for one final big payday.
The alternative is something that no one in the boxing business really wants to contemplate -- looking on as the ancient sport all but turns out the lights.
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