Anyone who’s read my stuff might be familiar with the concept of “Random Howlings.”Howlings” is 20 paragraphs split into 10 on boxing; the remainder on frivolous, non-boxing stuff. When I came to Convicted Artist Magazine last month, I couldn’t leave “Howlings” behind so I bring it to you…whether you asked for it or not. This inaugural Convicted edition includes everything I could think of, on-the-fly, from Chris Arreola’s new opportunity to fight for a heavyweight title to Taylor Swift and Daughtry…oh, how I despise and admire you all at the same time, Chris Daughtry. So read on…and shake your head in confusion later.
Whew! I guess we can all breathe a collective sigh of relief now that the WBA has upgraded Nicolay Valuev to “Undisputed WBA World Heavyweight Champion.” To me, that’s as lofty as getting every oversized/anti-birth control or dwarf-driven family on The Learning Channel to fight it out for the “Undisputed TLC World Attention Whore Championship. Let this be a lesson to the big loser in this one, former WBA run-of-the-mill heavyweight titlist Ruslan Chagaev. You don’t use it, you lose it…
And are you sick of “Jon and Kate Plus 8” yet? Yeah, me too. And I actually watch it. But if fame and money can corrupt a seemingly normal couple, then count me the hell out and soon. If you’ve watched it from the beginning, you’ve seen the changes. You’ve seen how bitchy Kate Gosselin was before she morphed into a full-blown harpy. In contrast, Jon Gosselin’s sociopathy has brewed a little slower into little steaming cups of double-pierced ears and Ed Hardy shirts. But the bald spot just doesn’t go away, does it? I guess that’s where sexing the young babes in front of the tabloid press comes in. I used to watch the show because I thought it was cute. Now I couldn’t care less if this familial fiasco comes back or gets shitcanned. The real nail is Jon’s new playmate, Michael Lohan. What a kickass guy to swap parental war stories with! On the bright side, Jon and Mike could’ve done far worse than Kate and Dina. The “one that got away” wound up married to Arturo Gatti…
And with all that prestige, it’s no wonder former Undisputed Cruiserweight Champion David Haye would rather throw hands with “The Russian Giant” than the harder-hitting Klitschko brother, WBC heavyweight titlist Vitali. It’s now come down to pick-and-choose with the “Hayemaker.” But it’s still the heavyweight division that we’re talking about. Perhaps Haye really believes that, not time but, indeed, timing will heal all wounds and Vitali will forget about all the wacky decapitation humor. For all of Haye’s cheekiness, he’d best not dismiss Klitschko’s own axe to grind. It’s there. If Haye doesn’t own up to his mouthiness regarding the brothers, he’ll never live it down. We won’t let him…
But we will let Vitali defend his belt against the WBC’s number-one contender, Chris Arreola. What’s really odd is that it sounds weird when I tell myself (Who else is gonna listen?) how excited I am to see this fight. Yes, I’m curious about how well Haye would handle “Dr. Iron Fist’s” power but we know Arreola can take a shot. Vitali, the lesser technical of the two brothers, can give a thunderous shot with either hand. Just these two variables alone excite me. What grabs me is just knowing this one ends early. For whom and when?… I’m thinking Arreola by TKO in the ninth. That might change by September 26, but for now, that’s my pick…
I’m warning y’all now, if Chris Daughtry ever shows up at my door, I’m gonna beat the hell out of him and chuck him onto the sidewalk with Thursday morning’s recyclables. If I don’t, my wife will invite him in, “Lost Boys”-style and all my crap will be out on the lawn quicker than you can say “It’s Not Over” because it will be. Yes, I get it, ladies. Chris Daughtry is hotter than August in Miami and twice as talented. Hell, I nearly threw my underwear at my stereo after listening to his new release “Leave This Town” (It should’ve been called “Leave This Galaxy” but my wishes aren’t the focus here…) but I thought better when I realized the pair I was wearing had a hole in them. But what my testicles do to a perfectly good pair of boxer briefs is neither here nor there. What matters is how sonic and direct Daughtry’s new effort is. The lead-off single “No Surprise” is pure Daughtry in asking “What the hell am I doing living this soul-sucking lie?” The influence of Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger is unmistakable on songs like the latter and “Life After You” while songs like “You Don’t Belong” (with a Linkin Park-esque rhythm begging for a Mike Shinoda co-vocal), "Every Time You Turn Around", "Ghost of Me" and “Supernatural” just reek of Daughtry’s dynamic, make-you-headbang-and-not-know-it style. Of course, formulaic doesn’t always work best unless you really do like something like slow country roller “Tennessee Life”; which came off better suited for Alison Krauss and Union Station (although co-performed with Vince Gill…Yes, I said “Gill”; not “Neil”). So I request of you, Chris Daughtry, please stay away from my home or I shall be forced to thoroughly thrash you and not even your bald head, sexy facial hair growth, commanding voice, charisma, millions of dollars record deal or bandmates whose names we have no clue of will save you. Nor will they save me because shortly after I wax your ass, every female in Chicagoland will tear me limb from limb like something out of a George Romero film. Stop thinking of yourself and do this for us, buddy…
Speaking of my pick or not-so-picked, I didn’t hedge an official pick on last Saturday’s WBO 140-pound title fight between titlist Timothy Bradley and Nate Campbell. I had an inkling that Bradley would’ve pulled off the win, although without doubt or controversy. But we all felt gypped when David Mendoza stopped the fight, didn’t we? On the other hand, if Campbell couldn’t see, he just couldn’t see. But the line between headbutt and punch was clearly drawn by Mendoza. Read into that what you’d like, but another ref might’ve seen it differently. I’d also bet that Bradley’s not at all gratified by the win and that’s why I believe the titleholder was all for a rematch. For what it’s worth now, I think Bradley wins under very different circumstances…
Ain’t no such thing as a “man card” in my pocket, Howlers. I’ve refused to carry one since the age of 18 (Have they been around that long or am I merely being anachronistic for your amusement?) because I decided there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, at my age, there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure and if I like it, I like it and get bent if you don’t. This is where Taylor Swift and her second album “Fearless” (not necessarily a new album but I just got it. Sue me.) come in. For one, nothing says or teaches “self-made” like this young lady does. At an early age, the 19 year-old Swift knew what she was supposed to be, what she wanted to do and never had doubts (but had the max in supportive, encouraging parents). We should all be so lucky to chase and grasp a dream and she did it. Sure, she’s making “Matrix Money” (Thank you, Patton Oswalt) but that comes with a field sown with songs about youth, love, confidence and the not-so-confident. It’s earned and learned all at the same time. When you listen to “Fearless” (especially the title track), you feel it because it’s not forced but you force yourself to relate. It makes you look back at who you were and who you are now; making you thankful for what you’ve got and makes you want to hold on tightly. If you don’t have that, it’ll make you wish you did. The song to listen to over and over? “You Belong To Me.” If you can’t relate to either the “him” or “her” in the song, no matter your gender, then you haven’t known utter desire. Listen to it unabashedly…
On the same evening, new WBC super lightweight titleholder Devon Alexander and opponent Junior Witter fought a fight that really answered no one’s questions as to where the younger titlist and the British veteran stand in the junior welter ranks. However, not every fight at 140 is going to make us happy; especially against Witter. When your recognized junior welterweight king, Manny Pacquiao is slaying other dragons and really earning his lofty pound-for-pound status, the truth about the kingdom’s remaining subjects comes to light. Without “Pac-Man” around to skew the talent curve, Alexander will have his pick of other junior welters to lock horns with; specifically Bradley and WBA titleholder Amir Khan…
In the new issue of Vanity Fair, actor Ryan O’ Neal reveals that he accidentally hit on his own daughter Tatum at late girlfriend Farrah Fawcett’s funeral. Tatum’s reaction was "That's our relationship in a nutshell. You make of it what you will." I’m thinking that’s code for half-assed. You’ve gotta hand it to Dad, though, kids. When he does it, he does it big and weird. Not only does he barely wait until his late girlfriend is in the ground to get a little action, but he seals the deal by putting the moves on his own daughter. Needless to say, I can’t make this stuff up but still revel in the comfort that you and I have all just shared a nice little mouth-puke. Ah, the glue that binds writer and reader: mouth-puke…
And speaking of the seemingly invincible “Pac-Man”, and the mythical pound-for-pound ratings, I got a message recently from Convicted Artist Magazine Editor-in-Chief Benny Henderson Jr. asking if I’d be willing to create a top ten list. I jumped at the chance. I’ve done them before at Doghouse Boxing but I think I also see ‘em a little differently. Where the original concept of pound-for-pound comes from who the best in boxing are (as discussed of fighters during Sugar Ray Robinson and Joe Louis’ prime), based on if they were all one and the same weight, I think of mine as a product of simply who the best ten fighters are in the sport today. That’s it. No muss. No fuss. No overanalysis. I hope my picks represent a sensibility that most here at Convicted Artist Magazine and you readers can agree on….
But not all old dude are creepy…or, at least, THAT creepy. Former President of the United States Bill Clinton did what Jack Bauer of “24” couldn’t. “Slick Willie” strode right into North Korea, had a nice, little sit-down with head nugget Kim Jong Il and walked right back out with American journalists Laura Ling and Euna Lee in tow, safe and sound. OK, maybe it wasn’t that simple (back room stuff, all the way) but the former two-term Prez did what so many could only wring their hands in frustration over. At the very least, Clinton showed us that he could bring tense nations together in groovitude just like he unwittingly did for millions of divided peanut butter fans during his administration. By being chunky and smooth all at the very same time. But seriously, thank you, Mr. President. From all of us…
Every now and then, someone actually reads one of my articles and decides to shoot me an e-mail. What’s cooler than that is when I get repeat customers. Ralph, here, is one of ‘em. Read on for Ralph’s beef:
Good day Mr. Duran,
How have you been? Anyway, I don’t understand Mr. Arum’s facile explanation for not caring whether his star client Pacman gets a chance to make ring history by capturing a world crown in a seventh weight class is that “nobody in the US cares” if the bout is for the belt or not. What do you think in this move by Arum?
Ralph Vencer
Ralph, I didn’t get it either. “Nobody in the U.S. cares”? Then I guess no one else cares either. If no one in the States gives a rat’s ass then the pay-per-view take is really gonna suck ass. Everyone knows Bob Arum, a promoter, works to make people listen. It’s all part of being a promoter. Odds are, he didn’t even think about how it might’ve sounded to those listening. And, really, Arum doesn’t have conviction in comments like this because his instinct is to make money. That’s not a knock because whatever makes Manny Pacquiao money makes Bob Arum money. That’s the wind that turns the ship, my excellent friend. And we’re getting Pacquiao-Miguel Cotto on November 14 anyway. Dude, life is pretty good…
Is it me or has it been the longest season break ever between new seasons of CSI: Miami? Hey, I’m just saying…are you NOT curious to see how Eric Delko’s relationship with Calleigh Dusquene will emerge from his new allegiance with his father? And my head swims with having to guess how many Russian mobsters Horatio Caine shot the hell out of during the hiatus...
So close…so close…to getting a good mailbag going. It’s more of a sandwich baggie of mail but YOU, dear Howlers, can fix that. If you’ve got questions, I might have answers. I guess it depends when you catch me. But shoot me an e-mail at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it anyway and I’ll do my best to help you out. I might even share a recipe or two or an irrelevant tangent about what I’m watching on TV with you…
What’s this you say? Try “The First 48 Hours” on A&E? Sure, you’ll often see the Miami-Dade crime scene investigators on the case but why? All they’re gonna show you is pure forensics procedure, time-absorbing DNA testing, matching jackets, detectives phoning and beating the street non-stop and an emphasis on stopping evil with little-to-no fanfare. Pfft…BOOOORRRRING! Where are all the hot ladies with the low-cut blouses and the flowing hair that contaminates all the evidence? Where are the brightly abstract horizons and swarthy villains? And for Christ’s sakes, where is the Shatner-esque lieutenant that talks to perps and peers like absolutely NO ONE does? Yeah, that’s what I thought. And THAT’S why I love CSI: Miami. And “The First 48 Hours” is pretty good too…
Trainer/weirdo Roger Mayweather was recently arrested and charged with coercion with force and battery strangulation for allegedly attacking his former charge, Melissa St. Vil. St. Vil says she broke business ties with Uncle Roger due to constant harassment on Mayweather’s part. What I’m not sure of is why it’s OK for Rog’ to threaten Ricky Hatton with “boxing shit arson” then turn around and crack a lady in the ribs right before strangling her…
And so it comes to pass and it wasn’t like we didn’t see it coming. Paula Abdul is out at American Idol. Who didn’t see this happening? Even Abdul wasn’t that zonked out to go “Hey…What the f__k?” when producers brought in songwriter/producer Kara DioGuardi as a…ahem… fourth judge. Of course, money was the bone of contention and with the modern-day Guy Smiley, Ryan Seacrest, getting a new $10,000,000-per-year contract (for three years), it’s a miracle that Paula even got a $5,000,000-per-year offer in the first place. $5,000,000-per-year? Man, I would replace her for six figures. I don’t give a damn. I’ll put a wig on and eat whatever pills you want. No truth to the rumor that first season co-host Brian Dunkleman would fill in as fourth judge for a bottle of Patron and a “happy ending massage.” Even less substantiation is available on the rumor that Dunkleman was actually OFFERING these items for the gig…
However, while some sociopaths are out screwing up, there are some heroes out there trying to stop others from screwing up more. Celebrated medical examiner Dr. Michael Baden (host of HBO’s “Autopsy” and former chief pathologist for the New York State Police) has accepted the task of eliminating suicide as the cause of Arturo Gatti’s death on July 11th. Dr. Baden assisted officials in Montreal, Quebec with the second autopsy, which was performed after Gatti’s family’s request for exhumation was granted. And already Baden has publicly noted that not everything’s jiving with Brazilian officials’ reports. What really blows is, all this time and before Dr. Baden’s involvement, we were all doctors too because sometimes, it just doesn’t take one to see the truth. Naturally, this is also said with absolutely no disrespect intended to Dr. Baden. If he didn’t know his shit, he certainly wouldn’t be here. And for that, we thank you so much, sir…
You might also recognize Dr. Baden from his involvement in the Drew Peterson case. Peterson, a former Bolingbrook, Illinois police sergeant is a suspect in the disappearance in his fourth wife, Stacy’s disappearance; as well as the March 2004 death of his third wife, Kathleen Savio. Prior to her own exhumation, Savio’s death was found to be caused by drowning in a bathtub. Upon reexamination, Dr. Baden found evidence of a “homicide staged to look like an accident” (according to Illinois State’s Attorney, James Glasgow), resulting in Peterson’s arrest. But my sick, little mind still lovingly thinks of Amanda Rodrigues some day marrying Peterson. United in some surreal, Dr. Michael Baden-esque web of sordid romance and unholy matrimony and eventually disappearing together into an eternally dark, cold airless, hell of a honeymoon. I so love a happy ending. Sigh…
Wednesday saw the passing of another American icon; recognized by those in boxing’s circles as well as the mainstream. Budd Schulberg, Hall of Famer and writer of 1954’s Oscar-winning “On the Waterfront”, passed away at the age of 95 from natural causes. Schulberg made his mark throughout American history in various ways; from serving his country in the Navy to shedding up the Watts Writers Workshop. Schulberg was a noted boxing writer as well as a damn fine novelist. With seemingly so much untimely death happening in Our Sport these days, we can look at a man like Budd and breathe a little better knowing that he lived a FULL, rich life and didn’t go until he was ready. Budd, we miss you already and will do our best to live up to your example. There’s always a place in the Howl of Fame for you…
Finally, let’s hear it for Pat Tomasulo, the hilarious sports cat on Chicago’s WGN Channel 9 morning show for getting his seat next to TV host Kelly Ripa in the “From Local to 'Live'” internet standoff. Tomasulo was one of ten male finalists, who included co-anchor (and co-cut-up Larry Potash). There was word that Potash was none too keen about the results but, truth be told, the right guy got it. Anyone who’s watched Tomasulo’s hilarious segment, “The Pat-Down”, knows that, not unlike a Bill “Faster than Floyd Mayweather” Kurtis or Lester Holt, Pat Tomasulo belongs to the world. No really, we just can’t fit that much goofiness in the City of Chicago. But seriously, Pat, you make us proud. You’re the only reason I know anything about sports, save for boxing, and you’re one of the reasons it’s OK for me to do what I do. For this and your big national debut, Pat Tomasulo, you’re also in my Howl of Fame…
See? That wasn’t so difficult. Hey, “Random Howlings” will be back in ten and ten (Get it? Paragraphs?... Oh, screw you too…) but if you’d like to drop me an e-mail, please fire it off to This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it . You can also visit me at www.myspace.com/coyote_duran and at www.facebook.com/CoyoteDuran. The budding attention whore in me would also like you to take a peek at my Convicted Artist gallery page at www.convictedartist.com/coyote_duran.html .
But I don’t “tweet.” Sorry.
Coyote Duran
www.convictedartist.com
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