Deep in flavor. Deep in your mind.

4/18/16

Rocky Marciano v Archie Moore (1955) & Gurkha Crest (Redux)


The following, gentlepersons, is a redux of a previously reviewed Gurkha Crest offering. So allow me that spiel...

This is not meant to be a stand-alone review. Please read my original review of this stick HERE prior to reading this Redux. Notes will in a large way be in response to the original write-up. K A P L O W I T Z SCALE will be utilized. Cigars in Redux shall be broken down into -- the... wait...

[BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE! I'll be breaking down this offering into rounds with a blow-by-blow walking through of Rocky Marciano v Archie Moore from '55.]

Why Redux? Different vitola, blend tweaks, and simple second chances are the leading reasons. Flights of fancy play a part, as well. Please note that if something is unchanged from original write-up, in this Redux, I won't redundantly state it. If it happened therein, it happened herein.
A couple notes re: fisticuffs via BoxRec --
  • Moore was attempting to become the first reigning World Light Heavyweight Champion to win the World Heavyweight Championship.
  • The fight was postponed 24 hours because of Hurricane Ione.
  • Attendance at Yankee Stadium was 61,574.
  • Marciano was a 4 to 1 favorite.
RD. 1
Feeling out, verily. Rocky and Mongoose. Two well apt names even within a seeming lull. Gurkha gives me notes of aromatic tobacco in a brown paper bag. I get some nuances being hid by red spices with a musky under-belly. Burn is a ribbon off a Djeep outdoors lighting. Puring off foot smoke and into my smoke-hole smoke. Rock pawed some lefts, Moore a decent right.
RD. 2
Rock gets it on the button with a shortish right off a left feint and is down for a four-count. Tying up, lotsa in-fighting. Marciano bleeds from a busted nose and still noodle-legged at the round's end. He ends it with a half-hearted flurry. HERE is an interesting LA Times article about this round from Moore's perspective. Sweet chewy flirtation is on now. Creamy but not a pillowy sort. A firm mattress. Mulling spice spilt all over the sheets. Very leather, yes? Yes. Kinky. Leather has a sharp dustiness to it. Marciano's poker face is lacking. Eyes are a' poppin'.
RD. 3
Spices come back a bit and a roasted pepper hits the retro-hale. Moore is really out-thinking Marciano on the inside, particularly and most notably. Cut reopens over Rocky's left peeper. Marciano scores a hard right -- maybe his first true zetz of the evening. Rocky Marciano is in the fight gentlepersons; lands solid left at the bell. I taste honey... thin and fragrant. Foot-smoke is amazingly prolific. What's the announcer say? Something like Moore is a trickster but 15 rounds is a long time. Eerily ominous, that. Pace of Gurkha is blazing.
RD. 4
Moore gets the ring cut off on him, squeaks out, eats a right. Gets in a situation on the ropes. Archie rocks Rock now. Moore comes away with the brunt of the oy gevalt.  Moore's hands are lower now, gets his chin out there and Rocky finds it. Archie's dazed, for sure -- but makes Marciano miss a lot more than he lands. At the bell, both men appear fatigued. Moore lands a half-strength short throat-punch from under-neath post bell and Rocky has the most unreadable or perhaps potentially misjudgeable smile as he heads a bit queerly to his corner. Gurkha is medium+ profiled and nada as to strength. Honey lends orange rind from mulling spices and rejuvenates it to its own orange blossom end. Finish is a sharp aromatic tobacco with red spice ghostings. Re-touch attempt is a near inferno inducing thing.
RD. 5
Marciano looks punched out on the stool. Not to be out-done, Moore's hair is an unholy mess. The Mongoose is just so hard to hit. Marciano has such a so simplistic way of hitting. I'm almost frustrated just watching. I do wish Moore would keep his hands higher -- for appearance sake, at least. More blood from Marciano's nose. Lull of a round, but one controlled by Archie Moore. Mulling spice drops hard off the table like a Super Jew curveball and the primary is vacated. Oak shaving in. Char notes in. Slight chemical vibe on the finish. Leather thickens in workboot fashion. Burn attempts to even on its own. Slight caramelized sugar in remaining red spice section of mullings.
RD. 6
Moore don't worry much about getting in a corner, because he don't worry much about getting outta said corner. Seems to be more upper body movement on the part of Rocky. He gets lower, too. And then suddenly, a right hand fells Moore off not much more of a set-up than I made mention of already. Officially, it was scored a four-count. Moore goes straight to the ropes and Marciano throws leather by the ton, digging in down and up-top on Moore. Lotsa pennies in the jar body work with lotsa fight to go. Marciano does a solid minute of brutalizing with a lead right, including another knock-down to the count of eight at the 10-second mark. Moore's got his left but it ain't a lot. Marciano eats that left as soon as he lets up on those exaggerated bobs and weaves. Moore gets back to his corner and looks shellacked and shell-shocked. Red fruit brings chewiness back in this time far more sweetly -- lip-smackingly so. Charring note is a sorta balance. the black crumbs on a slice of jelly toast. Burn is nice. Ash nice, too.
RD. 7
Marciano spends much of this fight seemingly half-gassed. This round, 3/4 so. Moore scores a couple rights and looks amazingly fresh as a daisy, when you'd expect far more of a black-eyed Susan. Marciano is back to too straight up & down of a posture. Gotta be his bad back, methinks. Last minute of seventh looks a lot like last minute of sixth -- except: no damage. Moore won the round but at its end, had virtually no legs under hisself. Gurkha: fruity work boots, please insert yer Village People construction worker joke here. I roll off an inch+ of ash. Smoky note. Construction is far superior to the previous Crest I did that write-up of. Burn re-wobbles.
RD. 8
Moore's right eye closes up, or darn nigh. Marciano takes the lead. The ol' Mongoose is having trouble getting loose of the ropes -- and it's not due at all entirely to Marciano. Whenever Rock takes the lead, as he does now,  the bout has the motion of occurring in the ocean. Slowish rights and lefts swung wide, feet dug in, bobs weaves feints slow as them punches... it sounds harmless, but in watching it -- it's menacing as heck... amazingly powerful. Nonetheless, the round is fought at a near odd half-speed. Moore circles left off the ropes, settles at another set of ropes, but his tired frame allows momentum to rock him further left still, toward and into a Marciano good right. He's saved by the bell but looks as spent as 88 cents at yer local Walmart. Chocolate malt note comes in where the previous offering's dry cocoa failed. Smoke continues to pour and now thickens whiter. For all the smoky-smoke -- not a lot of room note... an aromatic and leathery tobacco. "I think the end is close..." Spooks the announcer yet again. Pace of Gurkha slows.
RD. 9
Why the fight ain't stopped on the stool is beyond me, gentlepersons. Moore still gets a nice zetz in, straight pawing through the widely thrown barrage. A right hand snaps Marciano's head back, and is returned with a left which downs Moore for the somewhat anti-climactic ten-count. 1:19 of the given round. Sharper and drier on the palate tongue cheeks. Not the most pleasant of mouths. I take a swish of seltzer. A sip of seltzer. Another. Ash is quite white and silver in spots. Flaky but not loose sheath.

Remember that round-four Marciano grin. It's there again with a greater grimace influence at fight's end when the ring announcer, dropping his Kreskin leanings, states his certainty at Rocky going for 50-0 and never looking better. This was Marciano's last fight. He retired with a record of 49-0, with 43 KOs. The Mongoose Archie Moore seemed ill-impressed at the in-ring post-pugilism addressing.

K A P L O W I T Z SCALE
K being the least, Z the greatest
Appearance P (previously) O (redux)
Construction P (previously) L (redux)
Combustion L (previously) W (redux)
Flavors/Body W (previously) I (redux)
Strength A (previously) A (redux)

POST-FIGHT
Mouth-feel smoothes. Flavor scope does not narrow as previously. Packing softens a couple ticks; seams hold fast. Smoke coolly floods smoke-hole. Greater honey albeit with less orange blossom additionings. A vanilla vibe. A seam loosens at 3/3 and hampers the burn a tick. Char dials back and allows a more favorable toasty thing in. Shape flattens at one side and burn runs up ahead there, opposite of loosened seam/top-leaf. Re-touch is less voosh.

Notes mottle despite my purgings, but they do soften some on leathery oils. Vastly, the 3/3 is verily a lightly aromatic tobacco with vibings of smoky leather and malt attachments.
FINAL GRADE
****C (previously)****
****B (redux)****

Oh, the fight --

Lotsa pictures. Some words. Decent 'nuff smoke. It's cold in my carport, gentlepersons; I hope ya enjoyed this post -- and as always, thank ya for the eyes. Now if you'll be so kind, I think I'll now venture into the sun just a tick. Maybe I'll take a not-a-Gurkha something with me...

EDITOR'S NOTE
Age, as I've said elsewhere and now here, is a Gurkha's best pal. This stick was received at the same time as the other, and kept in the same fashion.

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