April 15th, the traditional Tax Day, saw its pugilistic doppelganger play out in Scotland's Hydro Arena when WBA champion Mr. Ricky Burns (41-6-1, 14KO) surrendered his crown to Mr. Julius Indongo (22-0-0, 11KO). Mr. Indongo kept his IBF crown and now needs to purchase an ornate hatbox, I'd imagine. Connect the dots on the Tax Day correlation, you say? Traditional. Tax Day happens each year with a precision writ in its own rigidness and failure to change. Such was Mr. Burns' approach to fighting the awkward-like-a-fox southpaw, Indongo. More? Soitenly! Too, when push came to shove, Burns like the IRS -- had little bite in the face of the elite.
Succinctly, Burns approached Saturday's fisticuffs in his typical one-dimensional manner and the unbeaten Indongo ain't whom ya wanna do that with. Odd to me is how hesitant the home fighter Burns seemed... reluctant even compared to his usual slow starts. But then, he was facing not just a taller jab artist, but a taller jab artist on a mission from his Namibian President. Burns 0, Nation 1.
Prefight, the Nation said via its 34 year-old native son to BBC Scotland: "He is making a lot of mistakes. If he is not aware of those mistakes, I feel pity for him." Nicely done, that and its implementation, but what next? Does Indongo inherit Burns' dream of further unification against the division's main man, one Mr. Terence Crawford? Maybe. I will say this: Mr. Crawford is a once in a blue moon talent. A special fighter. That said, Indongo has a certain fly in Vaseline potentiality, sans a name big 'nuff to make a fight financially worthy in terms of return on investment. We shall see if this round 7 stoppage of Burns at the glove'd hands of Crawford happens outside on my fleeting imaginations.
Burns said post-fight "He was so so awkward. He was a lot better than we thought he was going to be. He can hit as well." This played out as he never really getting near to being in Indongo's kitchen, and again, lacking another dimension to employ a different tact as an attempt to a different end. Burns went on: "I'm going to have all the doubters saying I'm finished -- but I'll come again." He shall, I feel so, as a gate-keeper to the title he once held. Heck, it beats night time shelf-stocking at Tesco, gentlepersons.
Truthfully, I applaud the toughness of the Scot, in climbing to his career height on pillowy punches, lacking skill-set, and 10 pounds of testicles in a five pound kilt.
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