Car accident reveals true nature of boxing defeat

  Dylan Hernandez Hernandez can be reached
at [email protected].
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Watching Fernando Vargas on all fours with his face planted on
the canvas was strange. Vargas, the now-former 154-pound IBF boxing
champion, had never lost and had never been dropped prior to his
Dec. 2 matchup against Felix Trinidad. But Trinidad floored him
five times en route to a brutal 12th-round knockout.

It’s always shocking to your system when you see a fighter
you previously deemed indestructible fold like a lawn chair. It
doesn’t seem right. The image you had created in your mind is
instantly shattered, and if you’re drunk (as I was during
Trinidad-Vargas) you start to question all of your other
preconceived notions in life.

Yet, as disturbing as it is to the viewer, you’re always
left wondering what it’s like for the fallen fighter.

To the fighter, I assume, the shock would be a little more
severe. After all, for him, it’s more than some meaningless
delusion that’s torn down; it’s his self image.

Before this winter break, I hadn’t ever suffered anything
like that. Sure, I’d failed in several pursuits ““
getting good grades, staying in shape, hooking up with a Playboy
Playmate ““ but in each of those cases, I didn’t expect
to succeed.

One thing I was always sure of, though, was that I would never
get into a car accident. Not one that was my fault, at least. I
prided myself on being a good driver.

Driving home to Pasadena, I couldn’t get this story
someone told me out of my head. Two girls, drunk, and making out.
Several times, I noticed I was veering off the road or coming too
close to other cars, but I wasn’t the least bit scared.

Why should I be? I was Dylan Hernandez, the undisputed champion
of driving. I had the confidence Vargas had heading into the
Trinidad fight, where he felt as if there was no way he could
possibly lose.

Starting at the age of 16, when he became the youngest amateur
champion in U.S. history, Vargas seemed destined for all-time
greatness. In 1996, he was the youngest member of the American
Olympic boxing team; and a little more than two years later, he
became the youngest fighter to ever win a world title in the junior
middleweight division.

No one believed in Vargas more than Vargas himself. This April,
Vargas fought veteran Ike Quartey, whose sole loss was a
split-decision defeat to Oscar De La Hoya. Many, including myself,
expected him to lose, but Vargas completely manhandled him. Then in
the post-fight interview, Vargas called out Trinidad ““
considered by many to be boxing’s best pound-for-pound
fighter.

Similar to Vargas before his knockout loss, there wasn’t a
glitch on my record. Heck, I’d driven under much worse
conditions (see “Abuse of substances has dire
consequences,” Nov. 16) and came out untouched each time.

As I switched from the 10 freeway to the 110, I had one hand on
the steering wheel. I was relaxed, visualizing the story.

Just as an image of (few words deleted here by editor due to
pornographic nature) came into my mind, I looked up and noticed the
car in front of me had come to a complete stop.

My eyes widened, my mouth opened (though no sound came out) and
I slammed on my brakes.

The following split second was very slow. I saw my car steadily
skid toward the black vehicle that was parked a few feet in
front.

Never having been in an accident, I didn’t think I would
actually hit. I was expecting divine intervention or something.
Maybe God would reach down from the heavens to stop my car.

Then came the “boom!” and the sound of crunching
glass. My car smashed, I sat behind the wheel stunned. I felt the
way Vargas probably did when he was knocked down for the first time
in the opening round. He had been carelessly carrying his right
hand too low, allowing Trinidad to crack him on the jaw.

I regained my senses, exchanged information with the poor,
unsuspecting lady I had rear-ended and called a friend from the
roadside.

“What, you crashed?!” he asked.

“Well, yeah …”

“Really?”

“I think the brakes on my car are bad. The car
didn’t stop …”

The denial process was starting. I couldn’t accept the
reality. I sounded like Vargas.

Although he emphasized that he wasn’t making any excuses,
Vargas expressed the belief that he would have been the victor had
he not been hit low by Trinidad. In the fight, Vargas took three
shots to the testicles. He later claimed those blows made it hard
for him to use his legs.

“I hurt him (Trinidad) in the fourth round when I knocked
him down and when he got up, the first thing he did was hit me in
the balls,” he told HBO’s Larry Merchant. “If we
had been playing fair, I don’t think I would have come out
like this.”

Losing is hard to accept. Losing a part of you that you pride
yourself on is harder.

“Undefeated fighters, we have a cloak of invincibility.
Once you’re beaten, that cloak somewhat diminishes,”
former champion Sugar Ray Leonard once said. “It’s up
to the individual to resurface that confidence, resurface that
belief that you’re still a champion.”

I haven’t had the chance yet. My car is still in the shop
and I haven’t driven since the accident. I hope to, though,
within the next two weeks. The crash isn’t settling well with
me.

As for Vargas, it looks like he won’t get the rematch with
Trinidad he’s been campaigning for. Trinidad said he will
move up in weight to fight 160-pound champion William Joppy in his
next bout.

Vargas’s first step to recovery will come in a few months,
perhaps against Javier Castillejo from Spain, holder of one of the
three 154-pound titles.

I wish him the best.

I know how he feels.