September's edition of Ring Magazine hits newsstands this week. This month's edition is a special issue previewing September 13th's Canelo-Crawford fight. I have an article in the magazine analyzing the fight from Crawford's perspective, what he must do to win and what he has to avoid. I enlisted trainer Stephen "Breadman" Edwards for his perspective on the fight.
The big fights, the best fighters and the colorful characters in the world of boxing.
Wednesday, August 20, 2025
Canelo-Crawford Article in Ring Magazine
Wednesday, August 6, 2025
The Promise of Moses Itauma
Let's get a few things out of the way first. I'm not someone who often falls in love with prospects. I'm a skeptic who notices flaws, even in supposed "can't-miss" talents. I recognize that there's a long road between potential and actually achieving greatness in the ring. There are too many examples of phenoms flaming out or even achieving a certain level of success but falling short of the expectations placed upon them.
Since I've been writing about boxing in 2011, there are two prospects who have stood out to me as being head and shoulders above everyone else in terms of young talent: Jesse "Bam" Rodriguez and Junto Nakatani. And I'm happy to report that both of these young fighters are now squarely in almost every credible pound-for-pound list in the sport; that's where they belong.
So, on one hand I'll give myself credit for perceiving their elite talent level before many others did. But if we're keeping it real, in the decade prior, one of the absolute best prospects I saw was Juan Manuel Lopez. Now Lopez was in no way a bust. He was a long-time featherweight champion, but much more was expected of him. However good he may have looked at times in the ring, he couldn't outrun the damage that he was doing to his body outside of it, blowing up between fights sometimes 40 or 50 pounds. Hey, nobody bats 1,000.
To reiterate, it's not good to fall in love with prospects. But we still have eyes. And it's hard, even as an experienced boxing enthusiast, to completely divorce emotion from observation. So, with this all said, I have realized, despite my better judgement, that it's time to make another bold declaration:
Moses Itauma is the best heavyweight prospect I've seen in the past 20 years.
![]() |
Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
As I'm typing this, Itauma, just 20 years old, is 12-0 with 10 knockouts. Later this month he faces his first real step up, against former title challenger Dillian Whyte. At 37, Whyte is certainly past his absolute best, but he still packs a heavy punch and despite Itauma's meteoric rise in the sport (this fight is headlining a Riyadh Season card with far more seasoned fighters lower on the bill), we still don't know if Itauma can take a good shot. So, it's certainly possible that within a month of my making such a pronouncement that I could wind up with egg on my face in short order. And I'm prepared for such a meal, as long as it's egg whites.
In watching Itauma, I find myself in disbelief that he's only 20. He fights like he's 10 years older, not that he lacks a young man's athleticism but because he has a veteran's poise. He's not rushing his work. He doesn't lose his shape after he has a guy hurt. He takes it all in stride with a devastating destructiveness.
A southpaw from Britain, he's already sparred with a who's who of heavyweights, including Daniel Dubois, Jospeh Parker, Joe Joyce and Lawrence Okolie. Now trained by Ben Davison, Itauma has also worked with Shane McGuigan and of course the vaunted Team GB amateur system, where he won world and European youth championships.
At his tender age, he already possesses a variety of knockout weapons, including a straight left hand, a right hook and a left uppercut. As a well-rounded fighter, he goes to the body with regularity and can throw punches in combination.
Another thing that really catches my eye is his movement. I wouldn't call him a speed demon by any means, but his footwork is terrific. It's purposeful. He gets in perfect position to throw or receive shots. He doesn't lean over his front foot when he punches. He's not swinging wildly. He isn't loading up on shots. He knows that if he hits a fighter squarely and with the right punches, that he has more than enough power to end things.
![]() |
Itauma making short order of another opponent Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
I also like his physical dimensions for the heavyweight division. At 6'4" and 240 or so lbs., he's big enough to compete with the giants in the division, but not too big to be at a disadvantage against the smaller guys who can really move. He seems to split the difference physically between a Fury and an Usyk.
There is still a lot to learn about Itauma. I realize that greatness is not built on the backs of beating guys like Mike Balogun, Demsey McKean and Mariusz Wach. We need to see more. Maybe Whyte will provide some useful information about Itauma's defense or recuperative powers. But maybe he will also wind up as another inevitability on Itauma's march to the top.
As we watch boxing week after week, year after year, we are always on the lookout for something different, something special, something that moves us. And I have seen such a fighter in Itauma. At 20 he already has so much figured out, and this is in a division where it's common for the top guy to be in his mid-30s. I'm along for the Moses Itauma ride. I'm a believer. I've gotten my first-class tickets.
But ultimately, what matters is not about "thinking" something; it's about knowing it. It's about the whole boxing world knowing it. This is Moses Itauma's mission should he choose to accept it. Will he be the next great heavyweight? Will he be something even more than that? I'm riveted.
Monday, July 21, 2025
Opinions and Observations: Usyk-Dubois 2
I have a theory about Oleksandr
Usyk's heavyweight campaign: he's as good as he needs to be. Most of his fights
have been competitive on the scorecards. Chisora ran him close. The Fury
fights featured intense two-way combat. Even Anthony Joshua had stretches of good rounds
in the middle parts of both fights. To my eyes, Usyk deserved to win all of
those fights, but I never had a feeling of outright domination, or that he
absolutely needed a stoppage to win.
Usyk first fought Daniel Dubois
almost two years ago. And with the exception of Dubois landing a crushing body punch that may or may
not have been low, the fight was uneventful.
Usyk eventually made Dubois take a knee in the ninth round to end the fight. Dubois didn't absorb a life-changing beating in that fight, but he couldn't handle Usyk's pressure and cerebral approach. Dubois spent so much of the fight staring at Usyk, waiting, unable to act.
But Dubois came roaring back with stoppage wins over Jarrell Miller, Filip Hrgovic and Anthony Joshua, picking up a share of the heavyweight title in the process (Usyk had relinquished that particular belt).
Entering Saturday's rematch with Usyk, a fight for undisputed status at heavyweight, Dubois had every reason to feel more confident in the
ring.
![]() |
Usyk posing after victory Photo courtesy of Queensberry Promotions |
Almost immediately it was clear that the rematch would be far different than their first fight. Where Dubois was practically paralyzed by Usyk's mesmeric footwork in their first outing, on Saturday, he went hunting for him. He was going to lead with power shots. He wanted to flush Usyk out of the center of the ring and let his big hands do the talking.
And while Saturday's fight only
lasted five rounds, the reason that Usyk had to sit down more on his power
shots is because Dubois forced him to. Dubois was landing hard right hands,
Usyk needed to return the favor with left hand counters, notably at the end of
the second round and in the last minute of the third.
In the final sequences of the
fight on Saturday, Dubois had Usyk close to the ropes and was charging forward
behind right hands. Usyk then uncorked a menacing counter right hook to the top of Dubois' head for the first knockdown of the fight. Upon beating the count, Dubois wasn't interested in taking a step back
to regroup. Within seconds, a wild exchange ensued with both guys throwing big
shots. Usyk evaded a right hand and with Dubois out of position, he unfurled a vicious rear left hook. Fight over.
Over two fights, Usyk has proven that he has mastered Dubois in the ring. However, he really needed to dig into his bag
of trick to get there on Saturday. For instance, in many of Usyk's heavyweight fights, he
rarely featured his right hook. Yet on Saturday, this punch was required. And
it wasn't because he was just having fun in the ring; he had to neutralize a charging, confident Dubois.
Usyk so often has
won at heavyweight by hunting and pecking, a jab here, a
touch left hand there. His punches weren't always thrown with spite or malice. But
on Saturday, Usyk dispensed with pleasantries. He understood this wouldn't be
a fight won by cute ring generalship, angles, and feints. No, here he needed
thunder. And he produced it.
I think that Usyk answered any final lingering questions about him as a heavyweight on Saturday. He has more than enough power
to get the job done. And more specifically, he's not afraid of using that
power, of going for it. Saturday's victory was not one of guile. He won a
mano-a-mano battle with one of the biggest punchers in the heavyweight
division. He had the better accuracy and the larger punch variety when it
counted. The final punch was also a perfect encapsulation of Usyk's skill in
the ring. He made Dubois miss by evasive maneuvers and then ended things with a
rear hook. He didn't doubt if that was the right punch at the right time; he
threw it with maximum ferocity.
Usyk's journey through
cruiserweight and heavyweight has been a thrilling ride of triumph over different
styles. He's beaten huge punchers (Gassiev, Joshua, Dubois), technical boxers (Hunter, Briedis, Fury), and awkward guys with power
(Glowacki, Huck). He's had fights where he's led wire-to-wire, where he was
down and needed to come on strong in the second half, and where he needed to
change the direction of the fight after ceding control. What remains is 24-0
with 15 knockouts, and more importantly, 13-0 in world championship
fights.
I've probably run out of superlatives regarding Usyk. I've written at length about his intestinal fortitude, his self-belief, his technical skills, his supreme ring IQ, and other factors. But it was nice to see him slug it out on Saturday, to remind everyone that he's much more than technical wizardry. Along with his superior set of skills, he can get nasty. And it was a great lesson to those who think bull rushing Usyk is the way to go. If he is threatened, his self-preservation will kick in, and that's not going to wind up well for the opponent. There's a reason why Fury and Joshua didn't want to stir this beast with frenetic action. They saw what could happen, even if they chose not to articulate it in interviews. They were more measured. They made it 12. Dubois ignored the warnings. He got splattered.
Tuesday, July 15, 2025
Ring Generalship in Ring Magazine
Ring Magazine is back on newsstands this month. This month's edition features Naoya Inoue on the cover. I'm proud to have contributed an article to the edition, a detailed breakdown of ring generalship. I hope that you enjoy it.
Sunday, July 13, 2025
Opinions and Observations: Sheeraz, Shakur
After
Shakur Stevenson's victory over William Zepeda on Saturday, Chris Mannix asked
Stevenson if he was pleased with his performance. And
Stephenson was emphatic that he was not. He said that he took more
punishment than he should have. He also credited Zepeda for making him reach
into his bag of tricks to pull out the win. Finally, and perhaps most
interestingly, he said he needed to go back to the drawing board and put on more muscle.
Now
you wouldn't understand Stevenson's point of view if you happened to agree with
the judges' wide scorecards in the fight, which had Shakur winning 118-108 x 2
and 119-109 to retain his lightweight title. I certainly didn't have the margin
that wide, and I'm betting that in Shakur's internal calculus, he didn't
either.
![]() |
Shakur celebrates after his victory Photo courtesy of Sela |
I scored the fight for Shakur 116-112, or eight rounds to four, but I had him down big after the fifth round. Through the first five rounds, most of the fight had been contested on Zepeda's terms, with Stevenson pinned on the ropes and Zepeda launching multi-punch combinations. Sure, Stevenson was avoiding many of the shots, but he also wasn't throwing a lot either. In rounds where both fighters landed similar number of punches and there were no defining blows, I think that Zepeda should have been rewarded as the effective aggressor and for exhibiting superior ring generalship.
And
let's be clear: the fighter who was hurt the most at any time in the fight was
Stevenson, who was visibly dazed by a jab to the body/jab to the head combo in
the third round, where Shakur's legs temporarily gave out.
Stevenson got his tactics wrong during the first five rounds. It
reminded me of Mayweather-Maidana 1, where Floyd thought that he could effectively counter
Maidana from the ropes. Eventually, he realized that he was employing a losing strategy and adjusted.
Once Floyd and Shakur got off the ropes it was much smoother sailing.
In the sixth round, Shakur planted himself in the center of the
ring and had a lot of success. At that point I thought that he had figured Zepeda out. I didn't have Zepeda winning another round in the fight.
Stevenson's most impressive punch of the fight was his counter
right hook, which he landed repeatedly while Zepeda was coming forward. He also
showed impressive punch variation and sequencing: going to the body with both hands, flashing
uppercuts, and unspooling memorable combinations where he would pop Zepeda's
head from side to side.
In
a strange way, this 24th bout of Stevenson's career, where he was defending a
title in his third weight class, was his best learning fight as a professional.
He now knows that as talented as he is, he's not one of the blessed
few fighters who can consistently excel with his back to the ropes. He should also have much more confidence in his ability to take shots
to the body. Stevenson has been overly evasive in certain fights, moving too much and shying away from contact, but after withstanding Zepeda's best hooks
downstairs, Stevenson should have more belief in his ability to trade.
Overall,
it was a strong performance from Stevenson. He tested some things out and made
adjustments when they didn't work. He was determined to fight his way to
victory and he realized where he was at his best in the ring. Mission accomplished.
***
The
fourth round of the Hamzah Sheeraz-Edgar Berlanga fight featured thrilling combat. Both fighters decided that they were
going to open up and trade. They were at mid-range, which in theory should have
favored the more compact, shorter-armed puncher, Berlanga, but it was Sheeraz who landed the devastating punches during exchanges. In a sequence in the second half of the round, he battered Berlanga with hooks from both hands, dropping him to the canvas. And after Berlanga made it to his feet, Sheeraz splattered him again, this time face-first on the canvas.
Now, many fighters would have stayed down at that point and perhaps ref David Fields
or Berlanga's corner should have stopped the fight, but Berlanga,
to his credit, rose to his feet and wanted to continue. The fight was stopped
early in the fifth as soon as Sheeraz landed his first combination of the round.
![]() |
Sheeraz after his knockout win Photo courtesy of Sela |
There's very little that surprised me in the fight, but that's also because I've watched enough of Sheeraz to know that he can be a devastating puncher when he's right. However, many were first exposed to the Englishman Sheeraz during his last fight, a high-profile middleweight title shot against Carlos Adames.
If you
believed Sheeraz's side of the story for what transpired that night, that he injured his hand during the bout and
he also had been experiencing problems making weight, then his flat
performance in the fight (which was ruled a draw) made sense. If you didn't
believe in what Sheeraz was selling, then those "fraud"
warnings started ringing in your head. Well, Sheeraz answered those doubters on
Saturday.
Even moving up a division, Sheeraz is still physically huge for 168 lbs. He packs a punch. He can beat an opponent with half-a-dozen weapons. I do have concerns about his chin in a division filled with big hitters, but that's a question to be answered another day.
There's no one who improved his stock more on Saturday's
Ring III card than Sheeraz did. He's a real threat.
***
The
vagaries of boxing judging: How can one make any overarching conclusions
regarding the scorecards in the fights between David Morrell-Imam Khataev (Morrell via split decision) and Alberto
Puello-Subriel Matias (Matias via majority decision)? In the first fight, the aggressor dazzled with
hooks, scored a knockdown, but lost to a counterpuncher who had impressive
15-20 second flurries here and there. In the second fight, the judges rewarded
the aggressor, Matias, despite a significant fade in the second half where he was eating a steady diet of power shots.
All
I can say to fighters and their teams is not to leave it close. In a given
panel of judges, you can have individuals who are drawn to clean work and
others who tend to favor the aggressor. I wouldn't say that either decision on Saturday was
a robbery, but I had the losers (Khataev and Puello) winning, and they had
almost exact opposite styles.
In fights as close as these, an outcome can swing on a fine margin. Khataev
started the 10th round excellently: coming forward, landing power hooks, and backing Morrell up. However, there's no mistaking that Morrell had
him badly hurt during the last 20 seconds of the round (this bout was a 10-rounder).
Had Khataev been able to avoid those final shots, he wins the 10th, and would
have swung the fight on Allen Nace's 95-94 scorecard for Morrell, giving Khataev a split decision victory.
I'll close with a couple of additional points about David Morrell and Alberto Puello. Morrell was considered by many in the PBC orbit to be a boxing prodigy, and maybe he was. He was fast-tracked and given a shot at David Benavidez in just his 12th pro fight. Despite Morrell's athletic and technical gifts, his lack of professional experience especially as it related to his decision-making in the ring was evident during the fight. Morrell had his share of moments during the bout and he fought hard, but he was comprehensively beaten.
Against Khataev, a power puncher who was also a successful amateur,
Morrell again displayed massive holes in his defense and didn't seem to
understand where and when he was having success in the fight. He wanted to be a
crafty counterpuncher, but he got hit a lot and dropped. Yet whenever he did
lead, he was infinitely more successful.
It's
not a question of Morrell being caught between styles; it's more that he has
yet to understand his ring identity. He doesn't grasp what he does
best against top competition. And it's a shame that he has to learn on the job in his tougher fights because he lacked seasoning prior to
Benevidez. Yes, he did skate by with a split decision win on Saturday, but his
performance was far from convincing. Facing a fighter a step down from
Benavidez's caliber, Morrell didn't display improvement. His
athleticism and hand speed are still there, but he is still way off the mark in
terms of understanding the finer details of how he can succeed as a
professional boxer.
And finally, although I do feel that Alberto Puello was hard done by the judges on Saturday, especially in a fight where he entered as the champion, part of his problem on Saturday was his own doing. Puello fights in a style
that will turn off specific judges. He is the anti-aggressor. He backs up
incessantly. He likes to maneuver with his back on the ropes. There are
three problems with his approach:
- He
lacks power
- His
shots aren't always easy to see land
- Effective
aggression is a scoring criterion that will always work against him.
If
Puello had fight-changing power, then it would be much easier to evaluate his
work in real time. But he doesn't, and familiar patterns emerge in his fights: He's backed into a corner or along the ropes. He lands some shots but also is
taking some. Neither guy really looks hurt after an exchange. Furthermore, in
these scenarios where close rounds exist (and Puello fights always have
numerous swing rounds) judges will reward effective aggression to the
come-forward boxer, which isn't Puello.
Prior
to Saturday, Puello had three split decisions victories in his biggest fights.
Those results were coin flips, with some that he could have lost. It's not that
his defeat to Matias on Saturday was some type
of cosmic payback for the rest of the junior welterweight division, but it illustrated a problem that Puello has: separation,
both figuratively and literally. Puello's fights are almost always close. And
in 7-5, 6-6 type of fights, judges can go any which way. He lacks the defining
power and sequences of punches that lead to definitive rounds.
Furthermore, Puello, as good as he is in retreat, couldn't keep the hyper-aggressive Matias off him. Again, this is a structural problem with Puello as a fighter. He doesn't believe in or rely on his jab enough. He lets opponents in too easily without making them pay a price. Yes, Puello likes his short hooks to the body and flashy uppercuts, but these happen during exchanges where his opponents are already right on top of him throwing their own punches. He doesn't get enough distance on a consistent basis.
Puello's making things too difficult for himself. He must learn to utilize his jab more effectively and circle the ring instead of operating against the ropes or in corners. Otherwise, he will continue to be reliant on the generosity of a given judging panel, which as we've seen, could go this way or that.
Puello needs to take more initiative in his own fights and in his career because his fight style leaves himself twisting in the wind after 12 hard rounds. In a sport that defers to the proclivities of a random judging panel, there's no uniformity on what defines doing just enough to win. Puello has been leaving it too close for comfort and he finally paid the price on Saturday. It's a tough way to sustain a career, always hoping for mercy from three random individuals.
Tuesday, June 10, 2025
The Legacy of Lomachenko
It's my belief that there's
nothing a fighter hates more than being embarrassed in the ring. Many would
rather go out on their shield and take a stoppage loss than get toyed with under the
bright lights. The ultimate compliment that can be paid to a fighter is not
that he won, but that he broke a fighter's spirit. That's the highest level of
the sport. And that's what Vasiliy Lomachenko did at his best.
Perhaps no fight illustrated
Lomachenko's greatness in this regard better than his victory over pound-for-pound great Guillermo Rigondeaux. Rigo was the master technician of
his day. Featuring hypnotic movement, feints a-plenty and a blistering straight
left hand, no one had been able to solve the Sphinx-like puzzle that Rigo presented, at least not until Lomachenko shared the ring with him.
![]() |
Lomachenko draped in hardware Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
In that fight, the master dancer
got bested by an even better dancer. Wherever Rigo moved, Loma moved with him.
But better yet, he would greet Rigo with thudding punches and blinding hand
speed. Rigondeaux, a proud fighter, quickly understood what he was up against
and by the sixth round he could no longer abide. He quit on his stool; the
embarrassment was too much for him to handle.
But that fight was not the only
example of Lomachenko breaking an opponent's will. Against undefeated knockout
artist Nicholas Walters, Lomachenko dazzled with the type of technical display
rarely seen at the highest levels of the sport. Walters could barely lay a
glove on Lomachenko and Loma's constant pressure and mastery of angles was too
much for Walters. Similarly, he retired in his corner.
***
Vasiliy Lomachnko was part of a
Ukrainian national team that dominated amateur boxing. Arriving on the
scene half-a-generation after the Klitschko brothers, Loma, Usyk, Gvozdyk and
more brought new elements to the table. Instead of prevailing with thunderous
power and punch-counting jabs, this crew incorporated dazzling footwork. They
understood the beauty of attacking from angles, of turning opponents, and
dominating psychologically as much as physically. The ring was their friend,
and they would use every inch of it to gain an advantage.
![]() |
Loma landing a body shot on Jorge Linares Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
Lomachenko's development was even farther afield from the typical great amateur. There was a period where Lomachenko's father, Anatoly, temporarily paused Lomachenko's boxing training and put him in classical dance. When Lomachenko returned to the sport, he possessed something far more than just solid boxing footwork; he expanded the creative possibilities of how to attack an opponent.
Olympic gold medals ensued and he
became the prized international prospect from Top Rank. Lomachenko was so
advanced that he fought for a title in his second pro fight (which was a close
loss to Orlando Salido) and won a world championship in his third bout, against
the speedster Gary Russell Jr., a fighter who would go on to become a long-term
champ at featherweight.
And that was when the Lomachenko mythology really took off. Featuring a purported amateur record of 397-1 and now a titlist in just three fights, there was
a sense that Loma possessed a collection of skills that had never been seen
before.
***
Loma announced his retirement
last week, which came as a shock to few. Now 37 and with multiple surgeries, as
well as a couple of heartbreaking losses, the will to fight on was no longer
there. He retired with a record of 18-3, and 14-3 in title fights.
Now 14-3 is nothing to sniff at in championship bouts. It's excellent. But
among the best of his contemporaries, that record isn't as strong as the Usyks,
the Inoues, the Crawfords and the Canelos.
Two of Loma's losses could be
attributed to a combination of naivete and arrogance, both from himself and his
father, who trained him. The Salido fight was full of caveats. Salido had blown
weight and it had been seen as a deliberate act instead of guy who really tried
to get down to the last ounce. I believe that Salido's strategy by winning with physicality, by being the bully, was obvious from the opening round. He was using his weight, crafty inside skills, grappling, and whatever low blows were allowed to take it to
the professional novice. It was Loma's (and his father's) real introduction to
professional boxing. You might be better technically, Loma, but I'm going to ravage
your body by any means necessary.
To be fair, it was an atrociously
refereed fight by Laurence Cole, who should have taken points from Salido
for incessant low blows. But Loma and his father didn't handle it appropriately. Loma didn't return fire with low blows; he thought that the
fight was some type of "sporting" contest. He and his father didn't
work the ref properly. It took Loma until the second half of the fight to
power through Salido's tactics and take it to him. Yes, he dominated much of
the second half of the fight, and he ultimately made Salido's head look like a
popping Pez dispenser.
However, the damage was done. He
lost on two of the three cards, and the judges were correct in awarding Salido
the decision. It took too long for Loma to make adjustments. He and his team
were not prepared for what Salido brought to the table and suffered a defeat.
With more seasoning, both from the fighter and trainer, a win could definitely
have been achieved the night.
Flashing forward several years, Lomachenko faced the unpredictable but talented Teofimo Lopez. The first seven rounds of the fight featured a shockingly low punch output level from Lomachenko. In the first six rounds, Loma didn't even throw 15 punches in a single round. Now absent a knockdown or some ferocious power punching, no fighter is going to win rounds with that type of inactivity.
![]() |
Teofimo Lopez landing a right uppercut on Loma Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
Lopez had figured out a lot regarding how to neutralize Lomachenko. He understood that Loma almost always went to an opponent's left side to start an attack. And as Loma turned, Lopez turned, meeting him with solid left hooks to the body and head. It was the first time that I had ever seen Loma spooked in the ring.
In time, Loma started to let his
hands go and easily won rounds eight through eleven. In the 12th, Lopez bit
down and landed pulverizing uppercuts as Loma rushed into the pocket. And I had
never seen Loma hit like that before.
Loma ultimately lost by a
unanimous decision, and he deserved to lose, but what followed bordered on
delusion. He wouldn't concede the loss after the fight and at worst believed
that it should have been a draw. But this wasn't a hard fight to score. And I
should also point out that Lopez was credited with landing 50 punches in the
12th round.
After the fight, Loma had
shoulder surgery, and perhaps his injuries played a role in the loss, but it still didn't
explain why he was able to let his hands go with abandon in the second half of
the fight and not the first if he was so injured. But months later he was asked
about the fight again, and he didn't change his stance. Even when he was doing
virtually nothing in a round, he still thought that he deserved to
win.
***
I come down the middle on
Lomachenko. At his best he was a wonderful talent. He injected style and
excitement into the sport. Lomachenko had terrific balance, coordination,
timing, and accuracy. His footwork has already been copied by many.
You can see his influence particularly on pound-for-pound level talent Jesse
"Bam" Rodriguez.
But the record lacks a lot of top
names. Yes, if he would have gotten Mikey Garcia and Gervonta Davis (when both
were champ at 130), his resume would look a lot better, and I would have
favored him to win both. But there were losses, and a lot of wins against
contender-types who weren't necessarily at his level.
He was great at going forward,
but less threatening when on his back foot. Also, there aren't too many
complete twelve-round performances. He was terrific in spurts – half a fight
here, eight rounds there. He fought in such an up-tempo style that he had problems
sustaining it against top competition for 12 rounds.
We were deprived of
some of Loma's peak since he turned pro at the relatively late age of 26. If he
could win a pro title in his third bout, it's certainly easy to see that he
could have gotten a belt much earlier if he had turned pro at 20 or 21.
Much of Loma is left to
conjecture. We have two-thirds of a career (including a decline where he was
still an excellent fighter) and a lot of attribution for what he possibly could
have done. He retired with two Olympic gold medals, one of the best amateur
careers on record (whatever the actually tally is) and world titles in three
weight classes.
Was he a perfect fighter? No. It
took him too long to make adjustments in the ring. He had a disrespect for his
opponents and an inflated sense of himself that cost him during multiple
fights. He lost pivotal 12th rounds in two fights that he needed, against Lopez
and Devin Haney. He didn't have the same awareness of scoring that his teammate
and fellow champ Oleksandr Usyk has. Loma believed that he was brilliant and
that was enough. Usyk understands that the three judges need to be given clear
evidence that he's the better fighter. It's Ring IQ that ultimately
separates Usyk from Lomachenko.
Lomachenko will always be remembered as possessing supreme athletic and technical skills. But he is also a reminder that skills don't always pay the bills. Neither Salido nor Lopez was the skilled athlete that Loma was, but they both had their hands raised after fighting him. Loma had evenings of absolute brilliance, where he was untouchable, but when he was touchable, it was much more a roll of the dice. He used psychology to help beat opponents, but those skills also conspired to beat himself. Greatness cannot just be in the mind; it must be shown in the ring, round after round.
Loma believed that he was an anointed one, the elite talent of his era. Many of his fans believed similarly. The judges didn't always concur.
Tuesday, May 6, 2025
Opinions and Observations: Inoue-Cardenas
Like broadcaster Tim Bradley, I had a
sneaking suspicion that Naoya Inoue's defense had started to slip in
recent fights. In Inoue's signature victory against Stephen Fulton in July of 2023, I
saw a master on both offense and defense. Whatever Fulton tried, he couldn't
get through and he certainly couldn't handle Inoue's offensive firepower. But
since then, I've seen slippage with Inoue's defense. After Fulton, Inoue gutted out a ragged
victory against the tricky Marlon Tapales, where Inoue was far from sharp. In his next fight he was dropped by Luis Nery.
Even TJ Doheny landed several impressive straight lefts and right hooks.
Minutes before Inoue's fight against Ramon Cardenas on Sunday, Bradley broke down three recent sequences where Inoue had left himself naked on defense. It was essentially all variations of the same theme. When Inoue would throw, he would keep his off hand low, far from protecting his face. One of the sequences that Bradley illustrated was the Nery knockdown and this exact defensive lapse happened again on Sunday. After throwing a wide left hook toward the end of the second round, Inoue's right hand was nowhere near protecting his face. And Cardenas took advantage of the opportunity, unfurling a vicious left hook of his own that blasted Inoue to the canvas.
![]() |
Inoue on the canvas in the second round Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
Cardenas exploited Inoue's defensive lapse like a seasoned pro. Cardenas was prepared for this exact moment and I'm sure that his trainer, Joel Diaz, had a lot to do with that (Diaz used to train Tim Bradley as well). As soon as Cardenas recognized the pattern, he executed to the best of his ability.
But Sunday wasn't just about one great
moment from Cardenas. He pulverized Inoue with body shots and two-punch combinations in the third round
and also had a competitive fifth round. It was striking to see an Inoue
opponent thrive in the middle of such violent action, but there Cardenas was,
an almost laughable underdog according to the bookmakers, giving one of the
best fighters of the sport all he could handle.
***
Sunday was Inoue's first fight in
the United States since June of 2020. During that fight against Michael
Dasmarinas and his previous one, versus Jason Moloney, Inoue fought with ruthless
efficiency. There were no wasted punches. There was no playing with his food.
He was a dispassionate, destructive force.
But much has changed in the interim. During the
intervening four years, Inoue's style has morphed. He no longer is about
perfect punch placement and he's not nearly as patient as he once was. He's become
a swashbuckler, diving in with huge shots hoping to make an early statement.
Instead of letting the knockouts come, he's gunning for them from the opening
bell. Inoue is now playing to the crowd.
In Sunday's pre-fight interview
with ESPN, he admitted that he enjoyed brawling.
Instead of winning by tactical and technical dominance, he's embraced chaos and is more than happy to
let the chips fall where they may. It's certainly a crowd-friendly style, and
it plays great on TV, but it does leave him more vulnerable.
It seems that the thrill of combat is what keeps Inoue going. He wants the give-and-take. In addition to the enemy across the ring, Inoue has another foe: his own boredom. Inoue no longer wants to shut down opponents from the opening bell; he's fully aware that his style provides openings. He wants to feel alive in the ring.
***
From the fourth round on in
Sunday's fight, Inoue started to tighten up his offense and his defense. No
longer was he winging wide hooks from out-of-position. He went to straight
shots between the guard and had more sustained success. Only at close range would he return to the left hook.
To me the fight turned for good in the sixth round. Cardenas was off-balance after missing a power shot and Inoue connected with a huge, six-inch counter right. The punch instantly stood Cardenas up and he temporarily froze. After that shot, Cardenas backed up to the ropes. He no longer was about adventurism in the ring, but his own survival. The scrappy underdog who had matched Inoue's aggression now finally understood his own mortality.
![]() |
Cardenas and Inoue trading left hands Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
The seventh was a Round of the Year candidate where Inoue bludgeoned Cardenas along the ropes with a punishing assortment of artillery. Cardenas tried to duck and dodge as best as he could, but he could no longer avoid Inoue's offense on a sustained basis. And then in the blink of an eye, Cardenas pushed Inoue back, flurried with two-punch combinations to the head, and dug his best left hooks to the body. Suddenly Inoue was now pressed up against the ropes. However, Inoue was able to reverse the momentum once more and trapped Cardenas in the corner. He unloaded with several right hands in succession, with the final punch of the sequence (and one that had little on it) dropping Cardenas to the canvas; Cardenas was that depleted.
The fight ended in the eighth
with Inoue shoeshining Cardenas in the corner. Referee Thomas Taylor stopped
the fight and I wouldn't have minded if he had given Cardenas a few more seconds to try
to figure things out, but Cardenas had taken a real beating.
***
I had seen Cardenas multiple
times prior to Sunday and he had never impressed me that much. He seemed to me
a rugged guy who fought with heart but lacked both the offensive firepower and
defensive technique to be a serious contender at 122 lbs. I thought that Cardenas was lucky to get the win in his previous fight against Bryan Acosta. If
he hadn't been the A-side in that fight I'm not sure that he would have been victorious.
But that's why they fight the fights. As late as the
sixth round on Sunday, the margin between the two fighters was only a single point. That's a competitive match and a much better showing than anyone had expected
from Cardenas.
In a weekend full of a lot of dud
boxing (more on that later), Cardenas’ performance was a refreshing reminder of
what a great loss looks like. Instead of tacitly accepting his defeat, Cardenas went for it, even after he was hurt. He was determined to impose himself on Inoue. Even when depleted in the seventh, he valiantly attacked Inoue with all he had left.
Cardenas won himself a lot of
fans with his performance on Sunday. And because of how he competed, he will now have an
improved price quote and more opportunities in the sport. Lots of people will
now care about him. He epitomized the best of boxing. He never believed that
he was there to lose or that he couldn't beat the great
Inoue; he kept firing.
***
Inoue also had a great night on Sunday. In a career that has seen him run roughshod over top fighters in four weight classes, Sunday was an opportunity for the boxing world to see a different side of him. Sunday wasn't just about Inoue's skills; it was overcoming adversity, digging down, and showing an even greater level in the ring after being pushed. It was championship mettle to go with a championship pedigree.
Inoue with his own knockdown in the seventh Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank |
Inoue summoned the best of himself on Sunday. Despite getting knocked down and losing early rounds, he got better and better as the fight continued. His focus became greater. His execution improved. He had been pressed, but he would not fold. He would conquer.
Boxing also had a great night on Sunday. Inoue-Cardenas was a heart-pounding thriller. After a weekend full of tepid winners, compliant losers and mediocre matchmaking, it was wonderful to be reminded of what great boxing looks like. It's two fighters selling out for the win. It's about risk-taking, showmanship, overcoming duress, heart, emotion, and fearlessness.
Inoue-Cardenas came at the right time. Boxing is always vulnerable as an enterprise. If fighters are disinterested in the ring, the fans won't be too far behind. If the fighters don’t care, why should they? But Inoue cared. And so did Cardenas. And they went to war. And we were enthralled, jumping up like little kids, throwing imaginary punches in the air, and remembering the joys that the great sport of boxing can provide.