It is not another sign of the decline of the heavyweight division that matters of life and death take precedence over the big fellows. Of course, Saturday's likely Mannheim monotony, even with a major upset, should not make anyone forget the traumas and dangers of last weekend's events. Wladimir Klitschko and Ray Austin (RAY AUSTIN??!?!?? was Sonny Tufts busy?) is just another "title" fight between two big guys. It has the panache of being an old-fashioned live Saturday afternoon TV show on HBO, because of the time difference with Germany. The word "live" is typed with crossed fingers. A lot of core beliefs should have been challenged by what just happened last week in Puerto Rico, Tampa and Los Angeles.

When is enough enough? These are the big questions: How much of a beating does someone have to take, how long should a fight last, a career? It is not, Who is the best of a poor lot of heavyweights?

I don't know the answers. All I can do is ask the questions that shook me to the core of my fuzzy beliefs.

Maybe it's visceral, just a gut feeling, and so there was more disappointment than anger, when Israel Vazquez, who vowed he would rather die than lose, quit against Rafael Marquez. It has been ever thus.

I gave Roberto Duran a pass for saying "no mas" to Sugar Ray Leonard. I thought it was wrong for Kostya Tszyu to quit against Ricky Hatton; I saw nothing wrong with Alexis Arguello sitting on the canvas, calmly clutching his knees, rather than trying to get up to continue receiving the inevitable beating from Aaron Pryor. I lost all respect for Acelino Freitas when he dropped his tail and gave up against Diego Corrales.

And so it goes, with little consistency. The line is the toughest to draw in sports, and you don't need sand to make it difficult. The bottom line is that it's between life and death and there are times when we plop on the wrong side.

Vazquez's action brought a premature ending to the kind of fight that makes us fans, two skilled and courageous champions meeting in quick time. The disappointment with the abrupt stoppage begs the question of to just how much blood and guts is the customer entitled.

The easy answer to that is "none" and who cares how much was spent on front-row tickets. You don't like a guy who quits, don't pay to see him the next time. But of course you'll pay to see Vazquez, even if it's not against Marquez. He earned respect with his comebacks against Oscar Larios and Jhonny Gonzalez. If he felt he could not compete any longer, even as he won the last round in which he participated, it is difficult to tell him, "Yeah, but you said you'd rather die…."

Duran, of course, had long earned universal respect. In a perverse way, his refusal to continue against Leonard was one of the most macho things he ever did, in effect saying to hell with decorum, to hell with rules, if Leonard doesn't want to "fight" me, I'm going home. Of course, there was no bellyache. The late, great Freddie Brown, his trainer, told me not long after "no mas" that he made up that story so Duran wouldn't be lynched when he returned to Panama.

Arguello gave all he had against Pryor and realized there was no way he could win. No one felt deprived when he surrendered in the rematch.

Many fighters don't give up even when the situation is hopeless. Victor Burgos on Saturday in Carson, Calif., or Ricky Quiles the night before in Tampa, were taking brutal punishment with no reasonable way of winning, yet neither quit. Neither will probably fight again. Burgos needed brain surgery to remove a blood clot following his beating by Vic Darchinyan; Quiles had ESPN commentator Teddy Atlas screaming to have someone stop Nate Campbell from committing assault.

Referees and corners are too brave for the fighters' good. It is always a crime when a boxer wants to leave an unhealthy position, doesn't want to look like a quitter but has no one around willing to pull the plug.

Pulling the plug by yourself is regarded as poor form. Yet, I am not the only one who felt disturbed when Tszyu, still in the ballgame against the comparatively light-hitting Hatton, decided it was not worth pursuing. Freitas, who seemed delighted to be beating upon Corrales in the early going, quit as soon as the tide turned. He acted like a perfect bully.

Freitas, who grew up sleeping on dirt floors and moved to lying on silk sheets next to a Brazilian beauty (his wife), was hardly the heroic stuff of which Sylvester Stallone could turn into a movie. Maybe that's part of my problem. Part of our culture was learned at the school of "we have not yet begun to fight" Surrender at the Battle of the Bulge? "Nuts!!"


I'm not sure I'd want Kostya Tszyu or Acelino Freitas in the foxhole with me. Would I want Rocky Balboa? Not the original character from "Rocky I."

That Balboa wanted to show merely he could go the distance with Apollo Creed, that he was not a "bum." He was not in there trying to win. That changed in "Rocky II," making him a much more sympathetic character as far as I was concerned. Going the distance as a primary goal is a bastardization of sport. No, winning isn't everything, but it certainly should be bigger than surviving.

The courage and tenacity of fighters, not the wanton brutality, is all that I can cling to in my guilty pleasure of being a boxing fan. Yes, there is life-threatening danger, but if you could peel that away from the sport - say by using pillows instead of gloves - you would strip the game of whatever values it might have. Take away the danger completely, and you take away the exoneration of courage. I think man, in general, needs to be reminded of such basic characteristics as bravery. The playing fields of Eton produced the winners in the Battle of Britain.

It is unimaginable to say "no mas" to Hitler. But let us not go crazy and compare World War II to a prizefight, even one for a real world championship. Nor do the benefits of the warrior mentality support arguments about "staying the course" in wars that perhaps should not have been engaged in the first place.

Life and death are not microcosms of boxing. Sometimes, we - especially me - forget that boxing is a game, a sport. You win some, you lose some, better luck next time. There could also be a culture gap here. Kostya Tszyu was a product of the same Soviet system that produced the Klitschko brothers. The "Quitschko" Brothers, if you want. But maybe because losing isn't what defines a person, those who look upon boxing as simply a game do not buy into the tradition of "I'd rather die than lose."

When Vitali Klitschko, ahead on all official cards, said he could not go on against Chris Byrd and gave up a title because of a pain in the shoulder, I was quick to dub him "Chicken Kiev." Never mind that he needed an operation on the shoulder. Other fighters have fought with worse injuries, same as other have continued with probably worse broken noses than Israel Vazquez suffered.

I believe Klitschko was truly shocked at the reaction to his quitting. What was the big fuss of a "sportsman" - as the brothers like to call themselves - acknowledging that this wasn't his night? I believe he felt he had something to prove, which he did when he battled on against Lennox Lewis with perhaps worse obstacles, including an opponent who could really hurt him.

But the bravery of any fighter needs a check and balance system that is sadly lacking in too many cases. The referee and Burgos's corner should be most accountable for why the former champion is fighting for his life now. When it becomes clear that one contestant has no chance, other than a sniper in the third row, the "sport" becomes slaughter. There should be signs posted ringside, "Do Not Feed the Lions."

I do not subscribe to the feeling that the IBFelons were to blame for making Burgos the mandatory challenger for the much bigger and stronger Darchinyan. Whether he was mandatory or not, Burgos was an experienced fighter of some talent and if he can not fight for a title, then maybe he should not be able to fight at all (yes, that means a lot of journeymen, clubbers and tomato cans perhaps should find new forms of employment). That brings up another side of when enough is enough - when should careers be ended?

It is one thing for a hack writer to go on past his prime; there are fewer dire consequences of bungling a comma than failing to slip a hook. I am reluctant to tell Evander Holyfield when to retire. I wish he would fail a physical, so we would not have to be un-American and tell him what he should dream.

Maybe as humanity continues to evolve, we will not need reminders of the types of courage that enabled us to climb mountains and reach for the stars. Until then, I expect to be very ambivalent about lots of things. Remember, flip-flopping is just another way of changing one's mind.

MEANWHILE, IN GERMANY: Assuming that the gloves controversy doesn't tie the hands of HBO and there is a fight to be seen, the Wladimir Klitschko-Ray Austin in some ways reminds me of another so-called hopeless American going to Europe to challenge an obviously vulnerable heavyweight title-holder. In fact, a couple of my colleagues - Ron Borges of the Boston Globe and Wally Matthews of wherever he was working at the time - and I were thinking about betting Oliver McCall to knock out Lennox Lewis in every round but the first, figuring there'd be some feeling out, and last, believing that if the champion got that far, he would not be taking any risks. The second round odds were, I believe, 35-1. However, there was something in my gut that just couldn't imagine an announcer saying, "….and the winner, and new heavyweight champion of the world, Oliver McCall."

To this day, Borges and Matthews blame their poverty on me, although I do not recall putting handcuffs on them to prevent them reaching into their own pockets. For a bit, I was thinking maybe there was a parallel with Wladimir and Austin. Baby Brother, after all, had been knocked out by Corrie Sanders and Lamon Brewster. He has since been dropped three times by Samuel Peter and wobbled by DaVarryl Williamson.

He is facing, in Austin, a man the same size - 6-foot-6, 247 pounds - who has been trained for this fight by Stacey McKinley, who did such a marvelous job a couple of months ago with Peter in his rematch with James Toney. Austin, who criminally is the IBFelons' mandatory challenger, has not lost since 2001. Alas, there are deeper factors here.

McCall was a powerful puncher with a great chin tempered by years of sparring with Mike Tyson. Austin is merely a sparring partner. His loss in 2001 was to Atilla (The Hunk) Levin, a novice Swede of limited skills. He has never beaten any noteworthy contender. He became "mandatory" by winning a split decision over Owen Beck and then getting a draw with Sultan Ibragimov. He is 36 years old and has been held to draws by Larry Donald, Lance Whitaker and.incredibly, Zuri Lawrence
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Last year, in routing Chris Byrd and Calvin Brock, Baby Brother established himself as the No. 1 heavyweight in the world. Emanuel Steward has done a wonderful job with him. But someone should wash his mouth out with Dewars and water (it was my drink, too, and Joe DiMaggio's) for saying Wladimir Klitschko could become one of the greatest heavyweights in history. He's lucky I like Steward, otherwise I'd prescribe Pernod and water.


PENTHOUSE: Oktay Urkal, which sounds like pig latin for something, did not give up against Miguel Cotto before his corner, annoyed at his being docked points for butting, finally threw in the towel. At least the European veteran kept trying, landing often against the surprisingly defense-challenged Cotto….Give good marks, at least for character (if one doesn't look too closely at elbows, heads and other infractions), to Edison Miranda, who unlike his opponent, Allen Green, made an effort to win, even going for a knockout in the final round although well ahead on points and advised by his corner to be careful.

OUTHOUSE: Okay, in addition to the ref, John Schorle, and the Burgos corner, I was not satisfied with the work by Showtime announcers Steve Albert and Al Bernstein, who I think were a bit slow to realize just how badly the Mexican warrior was hurt after the bout was stopped. On his stool, his head hanging and his eyes unfocused, Burgos was clearly in danger. The boys did recover, however.

M

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