Columnist Ron Kantowski: How Castillo is a champion with or without the belts

Monday, Oct. 10, 2005 | 9:35 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

We don't need no stinking belts.

Badges are a different story. You needed one of those to get close to ringside, to truly appreciate the force of the left hook Jose Luis Castillo unleashed to stop Diego Corrales just 47 seconds into the fourth round of their much ballyhooed 135- -- er, 138- -- er, 147-pound -- rematch at the Thomas & Mack Center Saturday night.

But we didn't need no stinking belts with the letters "WBC" or "WBO" on them to confirm the magnificent efficiency of Castillo's performance.

Let the record show that Corrales still has the stinking belts because Castillo hurt a rib in training -- or had some ribs during training -- and tipped the scale (once his doctor removed his foot from under it) at 138 1/2 pounds, three 1/2 more than the contracted weight.

Also let the record show that of the more than 15,000 people who were on hand, only one believes Corrales is still champion.

"I don't know about you, but he's my champion," Corrales' manager, Gary Shaw, said during the re-enactment of the Spanish Inquistion; i.e., the postfight news conference -- "Until he loses to a 135-pounder in the ring that makes the weight legally."

Shaw might as well have punctuated his remarks to a hostile audience by saying "that's the ticket" because like the old "Saturday Night Live" routine, nobody was buying it.

While the weighty matter was just that before and after the bout, it really didn't matter during the only 10 seconds that counted, the ones where referee Joe Cortez was counting over a dazed and extremely confused Corrales.

"What happened?" Corrales mouthed to his corner as he stumbled to his feet in no shape to continue but definitely in much better shape than he was the last time these two met.

Just five months ago, they had engaged in an epic slugfest that saw a battered and bruised Corrales get off the canvas twice in the 10th round to stop a battered and bruised Castillo in what might have been the most stunning reversal of fortune since Ivana Trump sued for divorce.

Although Castillo was getting much the better of it, the arena was just starting to rumble -- literally rumble, as fight fans pumped their feet on the retractable aluminum seats to create a racket matching the one inside the ring -- when the Mexican brought the evening to a sudden, dramatic and conclusive halt.

For a good 15 minutes, publicists from the two camps shouted quotes from ringside to the deadline press. But the chants of CAS-TILL-O! were almost a distant memory by the time one relayed, almost as an afterthought, that "no titles were exchanged."

Regardless of what Shaw said, the guy sitting next to him at the news conference wasn't talking or acting like no titles were exchanged.

"What I fight for, you can't put a belt around," said Corrales, who was even more gracious in defeat than Castillo was after their first fight. "Is there any consolation (to retaining the titles)? No. Am I heartbroken? Yeah."

Moments before, Castillo had apologized for embarrassing his promoter, Bob Arum, by not making weight. Arum didn't exactly look embarrassed. In fact, he opened his remarks by becoming the embarrassor instead of the embarrassee.

"Unfortunately, because the UNLV basketball team only gets 2-3,000 (spectators), the Thomas & Mack people aren't able to put together a (attendance) number," he said in reference to the raucous, near-capacity crowd.

When Castillo unfurled that left hook, there was a deafening roar that reminded old-timers of Larry Johnson and Stacey Augmon dunking on UC Santa Barbara.

"Unfortunately," Castillo said through an interpreter, "the WBC and WBO doesn't want to recognize me as champion. Then he broke into a smile almost as wide as his promoter's. "But I know there are a lot of people out there who do."

And the treasure of Empalme, Mexico, didn't need no stinking belt to prove it.