Klitschkos don’t maim to please

LOS ANGELES -- Vitali Klitschko was doing most of his talking in English, which made sense because, after all, he had just starred in prime time on American television. Besides, he didn't need a whole lot of words to describe what he had just done to poor Cris Arreola.

Talking about the fight was easy enough in any of the four languages Klitschko speaks. The actual fight seemed pretty easy, too, at least to the people watching Saturday night at Staples Center.

They came to watch Arreola fight like a warrior and win a piece of the heavyweight title. They ended up seeing Klitschko put on a coolly efficient clinic on how to hit and avoid being hit.

For anyone who truly appreciates the sweet science, it was good stuff. Floyd Mayweather Jr. did much the same thing a week earlier, though against a fighter who was 100 pounds lighter.

That fight drew 1 million households at 50 bucks a pop. This one was an HBO freebie, put on almost as an afterthought to fill space after the replay of Mayweather-Marquez.

Blame Klitschko for much of that. As good as he is, he's more concerned with getting out of boxing with his brain cells intact than he is in fighting crowd-pleasing brawls.

The problem is that boxing fans -- in the United States, at least -- don't want cerebral heavyweight champions. They prefer their heavyweights a bit out of control, like the guy with the tattoo on his face who was sitting ringside at Staples Center.

You never knew what might happen when Mike Tyson stepped in the ring. You always have a pretty good idea what's going to happen when Klitschko puts on the gloves.

"I understand," Klitschko said. "Everyone wants a bloody fight to enjoy. Everyone wants someone to go to the floor."

Such is the fate of Klitschko, the giant Ukrainian who seems to be everything anyone would want in a heavyweight champion but remains the heavyweight champion no one seems to want.

He and his brother, Wladimir, dominate the heavyweight division. They are heroes back home and in Germany, where they sell out arenas and stadiums.

But here they fight on late-night free TV. Here they need someone like Arreola to fill up Staples Center.

Here they can win every round as Klitschko did Saturday night, give their opponent a terrific beating, and still leave fans feeling like they should have done more.

"What do you want?" Klitschko said. "Everyone in boxing wants to see a knockout decision. I'm sorry it wasn't a knockout."

It wasn't a knockout on this night simply because Arreola refused to go down under the onslaught. He showed the kind of heart people love in a fighter, and he likely would still be taking a beating if his corner hadn't tossed in the towel after the 10th round.

He's the one who sold the tickets and had the fans cheering every time he threw a punch. He's the one who vowed later to one day give the fans what they really want -- a heavyweight champion they can embrace.

"I'm not going to let this fight break me," Arreola said. "I'm going to come back stronger than ever."

Assuming he does, Arreola had better hope Klitschko isn't around. The fight was such a mismatch in terms of experience and skill that no amount of heart could make up for it.

The rest of the heavyweight division wouldn't fare any better against either Klitschko brother. Together, they control three of the four heavyweight titles, and it looks as if they could be settling down to dominate the division for some time now.

Indeed, the only remotely interesting fight would be the two brothers facing off against each other. But they promised mom a long time ago that would never happen, and they're not about to disappoint her.

They were brought up in the old Soviet amateur system as fighters who were also sportsmen, and old habits are tough to break. They view boxing as more of a chess match than anything, and they're determined to fight the way they want to, not how the crowd wants them to.

"I want to use my head after boxing," Klitschko said. "It's very important to have a normal life later."

Unfortunately, people here don't pay to see heavyweights put on boxing exhibitions. They couldn't care less that both Klitschkos have doctorates, are involved in charitable work and are generally nice people.

They want blood and guts, and the loonier the better.

The Klitschkos don't have a chance.

Tim Dahlberg is a Las Vegas-based national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at tdahlberg@ap.org.