We live in an era where great expectorations have supplanted great expectations as the lead-in to a heavyweight championship fight. Dereck Chisora, the trash talking, bitch slapping challenger to Vitali Klitschko's WBC heavyweight crown augmented his arsenal this evening in Munich when he stepped into the ring and spat an unsavory stream of water into the face of Vitali's brother, Wladimir, before ring announcer Michael Buffer could assemble the throng to rumble.

It was the latest in a series of contrived and tedious pre-fight antics ginned up by fighters lacking the skill and gravitas to sell a fight on its own merits. That said, Chisora put up a game, albeit outgunned, effort against the 40-year-old Klitschko, who, despite fighting one-handed, dominated in the eyes of the judges (118-110, 118-110, and 119-111), scoring a unanimous decision that appeared closer than the scorecards indicated. Speculation abounded as to whether or not Klitschko had sustained an injury that rendered his jab M.I.A., a matter that was rendered clear as mud by Freddie Roach during the Epix webcast when he declared, "Definitely it might be."

That was as dramatic as it got. Chisora kept his end of the bargain by moving forward and pressing Klitschko throughout the fight, occasionally getting through, but his hands were not nearly as busy as his feet. The final stats showed Klitschko outhustling the challenger by over 250 punches, enabling him to methodically pile up the points as he parried and smothered most of Chisora's shots.

The real star of the show was the Epix webcast, which streamed very nice quality video to my tablet, allowing for spa-side viewing that guaranteed an enjoyable experience regardless of the quality of the bout. The commentating, which was done remotely, was, for the most part, serviceable and unobtrusive (a compliment), though it left the audience clueless about the results of the open scoring announced in the arena after the 8th round, which would have been interesting to hear . . . heinous as it is.

When all was said and done, Chisora, still deluded that anyone cared whether or not he fancied himself a tough guy, paraded around the ring like a bantam rooster, talking smack and calling out the Klitschkos until his promoter stepped in front of him and, speaking for those in attendance and the millions watching around the world, mercifully scolded, "Enough already!"