WORN-OUT HOPKINS NEEDS TO ACT HIS AGE

This has to be it. It should be. The next time Bernard Hopkins takes one of those calculated delays in a corner of the ring, he ought to make the rest a permanent one. Someone get him a cot and pillow.

Hopkins can yap like few athletes of his generation and countless before, but even he can't be arrogant enough to talk himself into fighting again, can he?

OK. Stupid question.

"I never got hurt," Hopkins said.

Maybe not. But he got real tired. He was gassed like your grandmother walking up 10 flights of stairs.

Hopkins lost a split decision and with it his Ring Magazine light heavyweight title to Joe Calzaghe on Saturday night, a result that both confirmed Hopkins needs to finally start acting his age (43) and trade in the gloves for leisurely strolls and showed Calzaghe is anything but the flawless champion from Wales some imagined by his super middleweight dominance.

It wasn't a terrible decision and yet definitely not the 116-111 rout judge Chuck Giampa scored the fight for Calzaghe. You could have held a card inside the Thomas & Mack Center or on your couch at home with anything from a draw to a 115-112 tally for either side and not been thought crazy. Calzaghe won. Fine. It wasn't impressive.

It was ugly. It was close. It was tedious at times. It was enough to suggest there is a reason Calzaghe stayed away from fighting in America for so long.

He is 45-0 and landed 232 punches Saturday, the most by any Hopkins opponent since CompuBox began tracking such numbers, which in this case spans 21 fights. But this was also by far the highest caliber fighter Calzaghe has faced and the oldest. He needed a split decision to beat a weary champion who twice took rests following low blows.

He won because his athleticism (translation: younger legs) allowed him to pile up points in the middle rounds. But no sober soul -- which didn't appear to include any of the giddy ones draped in the flag of Wales -- could have walked away overly awed with Calzaghe.

"I knew it wouldn't be pretty," he said. "He was so awkward. He gave me some big shots. I won the fight. It wasn't my best night. But to win a world title in a second division and to win in America is just icing on the cake for my career. (Hopkins) is very clever. It was one of the toughest fights of my career. I don't know who I want to fight next, but I'm a legend killer."

The legend on this night wasn't the same after two rounds.

You don't want your best punch coming in the first round of a fight that goes the distance, but that's what happened when a Hopkins' right knocked Calzaghe down 70 seconds after the opening bell, after a Ray J rendition of the national anthem lasted longer than a Hopkins news conference, only with more blown notes.

After that, seconds and minutes and rounds passed and Calzaghe finally awoke. He threw 707 punches, and I'm guessing 700 came following the second round. The more he threw, the more Hopkins seemed to clutch. Not that he would admit it. Not that he would give an inch of credit. He just kept talking.

"I wasn't slowing down," Hopkins said. "I was pacing myself for the long haul. I wanted him to run into my shots. I made him look pretty weak. I controlled the fight. He was lucky. I really feel like I took the guy to school. I made him fight my fight. I really think I won the fight. In the end, the fans know. We have officials. We have judges. Look at my face. Not a mark on it. I made him look amateurish.

"He was in the hardest fight of his life with a 43-year-old man."

Hopkins is a Hall of Famer, a great middleweight champion, a guy who can fill three notebooks without taking a breath with insightful comments and sometimes mounds of gibberish.

But in hyping the fight, he used race as a way to sell the matchup and generate interest. He said a "white boy" would never beat him.

Turns out, he was wrong, but for no other reason than Father Time knocked loudly in his corner between rounds 5 and 10.

The guy with the body of a 27-year-old suddenly looked his age and needs to go away now.

The guy from Wales remains undefeated and needs to consider himself fortunate.

All in all, a pretty forgettable tussle.

Ed Graney's column is published Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.