31-year-old Justin Juuko probably wasn't as 'shot' a I remember in '04. Stiffly ambling toward a KO2 loss to Michael Gomez. But his lack of coordination and obvious fragility stayed with me. The nomadic Juuko had boxed Floyd Mayweather in '99 too. Boxing is never kind to its heroes. Even Floyd.
The first time I ever watched a shot fighter fight, was in 2004. Well, to qualify, I may have been witness to punch soaked pugs earlier and not appreciated the stage of decline they were at. Some performances can bely the damage accrued, Derek Chisora is a current entrant who is defying the evident erosion to post respectable results. Big Derek appears as defiant in the face of that evidence as he is when huge opponents are winging punches at his middle-aged body and temples. A perverse peace has been made with the price he will pay in the future.
Weight making can also steal the elemental attributes fighters need and in doing so present symptoms similar to those of worn out old plodders like Chisora. I've seen talented men held hostage to a weight division sacrifice much of the vivacity that led them to titles and boxing's last castle - greatness. Scot Josh Taylor is a luminous example from recent memory. Trapped at 140 pounds with diminishing returns when a move to Welterweight was necessary shortly after first winning a title.
Judging whether fighters are 'shot', that most derogatory of descriptives, is an ad hoc triage and far from an exact science however qualified the judge.
All that notwithstanding, when Ugandan Justin Jukko walked to centre ring to face the erratic but dangerous Michael Gomez in the working-class town of Widnes in the North of England in the early summer of 2004 for a WBF belt as peripheral to the world-scene as the venue, the evidence was conspicuous. Legs as stiff as knitting needles, balanced impaired and a disinterested and disorganised aura drawing eyes away from the snarling Gomez.
The Mexican Mancunian, his pre-fight sombrero resting on the lap of someone familiar at ring side in the Kingsway Leisure Centre, was fixated on his prey. Animated body, cold menacing stare, a flat, crooked nose dissecting thick cheek bones. Gomez could be an unrelenting wrecking ball when motivated, but he was always spiteful between the ropes whether he'd trained or not. He gleefully took advantage of Juuko's frailty, the nomadic African had accepted the fight on short notice, and knocked out the two-time world title challenger in the second round.
Juuko had boxed Floyd Mayweather, Diego Corrales and Miguel Cotto - the latter just 18 months previously - and emerged with some credit and the losses that softened the edges of a pretty record. Judges as weathered as John Keane and Daniel Van Weile gave him the 7th round against Pretty Boy Floyd, 20-0 at the time, and Compubox counted 138 successful punches in the 8 rounds Juuko lasted. He'd taken that fight on two week's notice too.
As those who gather in the shadows for fights always remark about fighters like Justin Juuko, whether cast by the neon of the Mandaley Bay Hotel Las Vegas where Juuko boxed Mayweather or the mobile disco lighting at Leisure Centres in Lancashire, "he was no mug".
By 2004, he was far removed from that prime. He would box on until 2013, less frequently and never win another fight of substance, but the 'game' was long since up. Gomez was in the midst of his strongest run at the time he beat Juuko, having wrecked Alex Arthur the previous year. He would meander on though distraction and self destruction, secure a good pay day against the emerging Amir Khan and finished, aged 32, in a 2009 defeat to Ricky Burns.
Earning a few quid. Spending some. Looking for an equilibrium as elusive as the consistency his talent so clearly needed, Gomez could've achieved a little more. But was perhaps never destined to. Juuko was 40 when he finally left boxing behind - spending time in politics, he was kidnapped for 11 days in 2020 by those agitated against him, and still runs a boxing gym in his home town of Masaka, Uganda.
I don't imagine either man would have been compelled to box again aged 49 had they earned $500 million dollars in their careers and retired with an unblemished professional record. It is an unfathomable level of wealth that seems drown those burdened by its possibilities.
As and when Juuko's one time opponent, Floyd Mayweather enters the ring again - to face Manny Pacquiao in a barely believable rematch to a fight that was almost a decade too late itself - it is likely there will be as much to remind me of that night in Widnes in 2004, when Juuko stumbled toward the referees final instructions, as there will be of the night in '99 when he was stopped in 8 by the best of Pretty Boy Floyd Mayweather.
The desire to watch, however shot Mayweather will prove to be, rather like a fighter's compulsion to box, will still remain.