Thoughts on Big George

I came to boxing in the late '80s and early '90s. At that point George Foreman was the commentator for HBO Boxing, along with Jim Lampley and Larry Merchant. I was aware that George Foreman was a former heavyweight champion and also that he was staging a professional boxing comeback after a long absence. He was fighting often, but usually against no-hopers. His comeback was often dismissed as a novelty act or a vanity project.  

My first real exposure to Foreman was him wearing a tuxedo, calling fights and always having an ear-to-ear grin on his face. Foreman and Merchant had an entertaining double act in those days. Practically every broadcast Merchant would react incredulously toward some statement that Foreman would make. While we all were watching the fights in the ring, the sparring between the broadcasters provided extra entertainment. Maybe Merchant regarded much of what Foreman said as gibberish, believing that Big George was just another member of the jockocracy who didn't have anything to offer other than his own biography. Maybe he believed that Foreman was underprepared for the action in the ring. Or maybe Merchant was just predisposed toward argument. It was Foreman's wide-eyed optimism vs. Merchant's inherent cynicism. It made for great television. 

And many of Foreman's comments were dismissible. It often seemed as if he was watching a different fight than the rest of us. But every now and then he would offer a truly fascinating pearl of wisdom. 

Image courtesy of Top Rank

What I specifically learned from Foreman was "lean" and "mean." In a fight between big men, or a brutal bout that extended into the late rounds, if Foreman ever saw a fighter leaning on the other, he almost always would note how taxing that leaning was on the other fighter, how it could deplete the opponent. Foreman had been a master at using his physicality in the ring and I'm sure that he understood both sides of the "lean." It was a tactic that was often missed by other ring commentators; they dismissed it as clinching or getting a break, but George saw it differently. It was another way for a fighter to win, one that was often missed in the ensuing fight report the next day. Ultimately, it was a vital piece of information about how fights can be actually won or lost. 

I can still hear Foreman's voice in my head when a fighter is underperforming or unwilling to mix it up. "He has to get mean," Foreman would say. To Foreman, much about boxing was a temperament issue. It's not that he wasn't interested in X's and O's, but he understood that the intangibles, specifically a fighter needing to do whatever it took to win, was paramount at the upper reaches of the sport. Spite was needed. It was the hurt business after all.

He loved to look at a fighter's eyes and interject whether he thought that the boxer had what it took on a psychological level to win. Was the will to win present? Was the moment too big for the fighter? He was always keyed in on a fighter's body language and temperament, and left the describing of the fight action to others. 

***

In the usual descriptions of George Foreman's stunning knockout win over Michael Moorer, where he became heavyweight champion for a second time, 20 years after his initial reign, Foreman's age was the main focus. Heavyweights weren't supposed to be world champions in their mid-40s. And in truth, that was quite a story!

But to me, the overall unlikeliness of that event, the absurdity of it, had to do with the final combination of the fight. Foreman flashed a jab and then threw what looked like an arm punch with his right hand. And then Moorer splattered on the canvas. It looked like a nothing punch. It wasn't an epic sequence that led to the victory; no, it was a basic combination, and one that looked like it had very little mustard on it. 

However, that final sequence demonstrated once again that Foreman had unusual power. He didn't have great hand speed or torque with his punches; he just had sledgehammers in his hands. Throughout his career, wins or losses, Foreman's power played differently. He had unusual results: blasting out the destructive force of Joe Frazier like it was taking a little kid's lunch money; nuking Ken Norton; and forcing the great Muhammad Ali, the man who flew like a butterfly, to languish on the ropes out of desperation. 

***

To me, the first sign that Foreman's comeback was a serious proposition was his fight against Holyfield in 1991. Holyfield had just beaten Buster Douglas to become the heavyweight king and the Foreman fight was viewed as a way to make a big money fight with little risk. Few gave Foreman a serious chance in the fight.

However, Foreman blew up that narrative quickly and the first two-thirds of that fight was one of the best heavyweight wars of the 1990's. Holyfield had faced many punchers in his time at cruiserweight and heavyweight, yet he seemed, like others before him, unprepared for Foreman's level of power. Here was a supreme athlete with all of the tools, yet he had to spend significant portions of the fight in recuperation or even survival mode. Foreman didn't have Holyfield's speed, legs, coordination, or conditioning, but he blasted Holyfield in the pocket at numerous times throughout the fight. 

Holyfield would eventually win the bout. He essentially outhustled Foreman and had much more to give in the final third of the fight. But it was more than just an uncomfortable night at the office for him. That night reminded the boxing world that Foreman was still a threat and demonstrated that Holyfield had real vulnerabilities when trading. Holyfield would have another rough fight next against hard-hitting journeyman Bert Cooper and would go on to lose in 1992 against Riddick Bowe. After Foreman, the inevitability of Evander Holyfield was now more uncertain. 

***

Foreman's first fight against Joe Frazier was just as absurd or unbelievable as the Moorer bout. Frazier was the baddest man in boxing, the guy who decisively beat Ali. And yet against Foreman, Frazier could barely stay on his feet. Time after time, Foreman would pop Frazier with a big right hand as Smokin' Joe would try to close the distance. And Frazier reacted like he was on roller skates. Quickly his legs were gone. Frazier kept getting up and Foreman kept knocking him down. Six times in two rounds. It was as if Foreman was playing a different sport. 

***

I interviewed Cus D'Amato's biographer, Dr. Scott Weiss, many years ago. One fascinating nugget that emerged during the interview was that D'Amato was petrified about Foreman's style as it related to his young charge, Mike Tyson. Now keep in mind, Foreman was still in his first retirement during those years, but there were rumblings that he was about to return to the sport. 

D'Amato studied fight films with a zealotry that few possessed. He knew the strengths and weakness of every fighter, of every style. And as much as he loved the bob-and-weave for Tyson, he understood that there was a Kryptonite to the style, a heavy puncher who could come underneath with either hand as Tyson was trying to get in close. Foreman was so skilled in the pocket, so devastating with short punches from either hand, that D'Amato advised his team to avoid Foreman if at all possible. For as much as D'Amato was about the art of overcoming fear, even by unconventional means like hypnosis, he was still spooked by a retired Foreman. 

***

The Rumble in the Jungle occurred before I was born. And when I initially watched the fight, I had already known the outcome. But even with that knowledge, it was still a stunning result. Foreman spent round after round wailing away at Ali, who was stuck on the ropes. And these were not the short, thudding punches that I mentioned earlier. This was Foreman unloading with everything he possessed, physically and psychologically. He was determined to end Ali that night. But if we're being honest, there was also an element of fear in Foreman's performance, like if he stopped or took a rest, that bad things were going to happen. 

The Rope-a-Dope is perhaps the most famous strategic gambit in the history of professional boxing. Perhaps it could only be achieved on that scale once. No one could conceive of a fighter taking that much punishment from Foreman and simply trying to outlast him. What fighter would even do that to himself? This was Ali junking a game plan and deciding to go mano-a-mano, not with technique or power, but with sheer will. Ali figured out early that he could not win a regular fight against Foreman. He was outgunned. But he thought that he was mentally stronger, and on that night he was. 

***

The Foreman fight against Jimmy Young in 1977 was the one that made him go into retirement for the first time. And it's a tough watch. Foreman isn't even 30 yet in the fight, but he looked so listless during large portions of the match, like he had completely run out of ideas. 

Young came into the fight with an unimpressive record (20-5-2) but don't let that fool you. Many thought that Young had beaten Ali the prior year. He had also authored a convincing win over Ron Lyle, whereas Foreman had previously gone life-and-death with Lyle. 

Young was a slippery defensive fighter from Philadelphia and if I said earlier that Foreman looked like he was playing a different sport than others, so was Young. Young was a non-puncher, but more than that, he was unconcerned with power. He was an angles fighter who would often stick his body or head between the ropes to get an unconventional line of attack on an opponent. He could glide around the ring, but he was also incredibly awkward. He was an expert at using his forearms and elbows to maneuver an opponent into a hitting position or to escape damage. Perhaps the closest the heavyweight division has seen to Young in the last 40 years has been Chris Byrd, but Byrd was far more conventional. 

Foreman against Young was an example of a guy trying to kill a bee with an ax. The axman would swing at air and then the bee would come back around to sting the big, bad aggressor. The process continued on an inescapable loop. Foreman could not handle that type of fight. He looked so far removed from the killer of the '70s. He seemed dispirited in the ring. 

But his spirit would soon return. He maintains that immediately after the Young fight was where Jesus called to him. He would leave the sport, become a preacher. His life forever changed.   

***

For a final absurd Foreman bout, check out the five-round slugfest against Ron Lyle from 1976, which was one of the decade's best fights. This was Foreman's first fight after Ali and it was clear to me that he wasn't quite all the way back to his best. Lyle was a tough dude, a good puncher and someone who was rough on the inside, and Foreman's legs just didn't look right to me. 

The two went to war and it's still amazing to see how badly hurt Foreman is in the fight and yet somehow pulls off an almost miraculous reversal of fortune to get the knockout win. Throughout all of Foreman's career, I believe that he had never been as busted up as he was here, even against Ali. 

And if one of Foreman's weaknesses during the first phase of his career was a questionable psychological will, here is the counter to that narrative. Foreman was completely battered in the fight, sprawling on the canvas, a second or two from the fight being stopped. But he finds a way. He summons the courage. I have no idea how he pulled out that win. In a career full of remarkable feats, his victory over Lyle was his most impressive to me. Not because it was a dominant showing or a clean victory, but it was an example of Foreman being more than a bully or a gifted puncher. No, here he stared at the abyss, but he wasn't going to let it take him that day. He would prevail. 

***

Throughout Foreman's second career as an active fighter and in his later years, he was one of the best interviews in the sport. Humble almost to a fault, he was exceedingly gracious regarding those whom he had shared the ring with, even the fighters who had beaten him. He hilariously referred to himself as the "Dope" when recounting the Rumble in the Jungle. 

Foreman wasn't burdened by the negative aspects of pride. He seemed comfortable with his life. He knew that he had made a mark and didn't feel the need to remind others of his accomplishments. That he believed life was a blessing, and that he had become a blessed man, was evident in his words and deeds. 

Most refreshingly, Foreman, unlike many past greats, always had time for a kind word for the top fighters who came after him. He often would praise fighters like Manny Pacquiao or Tyson Fury. He didn't believe that the best of boxing ended with his retirement and those of his contemporaries. He understood that the sport evolved, that athletes changed, and that greatness could be defined in any era. 

His passing on Friday marked the end of a sunnier time of boxing for many. When Foreman was king, the world cared about boxing in a much more profound way than it does today. I'm sure that Foreman's death to many represented even more than the passing of a man, but with it, another reminder of a past that most likely will never return.

But Foreman's later years were not marked by bitterness toward the sport. He understood that greatness was still within it. He knew that boxing gave him a life and a platform to do well and to do good. It's a sport that provides opportunities for the downtrodden, the deadenders, like Foreman himself claimed that he once was. It can be a sport of uplift, of grace and of transformation. Those characteristics remain. There is still good in boxing. Foreman saw that. And perhaps we should remind ourselves of that too. For all of boxing's myriad problems, which we all can recite without notes or preparation, the good that it contains should never be forgotten. That's what Big George understood.  

Adam Abramowitz is the founder and head writer of saturdaynightboxing.com. 

He's a contributing writer for Ring Magazine, a member of the Ring Magazine Ratings Panel, the Transnational Boxing Rankings Board, and the Boxing Writers Association of America.

Email: saturdaynightboxing@hotmail.com

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Steve Willis Must Be Fired

During the ninth round of Saturday's Gervonta "Tank" Davis-Lamont Roach fight, Roach threw a relatively harmless double jab combination with 2:18 left in the round. Immediately after the last jab, Tank, on his own volition, took a knee. Then he got up, turned his back to the action, and went to his corner so that his team could wipe some grease from his eye.  

At the beginning of this unusual sequence, referee Steve Willis started to administer a count, which is the correct course of action when a fighter takes a knee, and then he suddenly stopped. After Davis returned from his corner, Willis engaged Davis in some bizarre banter, saying that the sequence could have been ruled as a knockdown. But no further action was taken. 

Ref Steve Willis (blue) in a less controversial moment
Photo courtesy of Esther Lin/Premier Boxing Champions 

Now there were three distinct points of the sequence where Willis could have or should have penalized Tank:

1. The voluntary knee is an obvious point where a ten-count should have been administered.
2. Tank turning his back to the action also should have led to a ten-count or even grounds for a disqualification. 
3. When a fighter's cornerman or third-party representative comes onto the ring apron without the permission of the referee, that fighter could be disqualified. This happened when Tank's corner wiped off the grease without permission from Willis. 

That Willis chose to do none of these things is the highest dereliction of his duties. For fuller context, it must be understood that Davis was the overwhelming favorite coming into the fight and the one with considerable marketing muscle and public affection behind him. The 18,000+ fans in Barclays Center where there to see Tank. 

There is no way of sugar-coating it; by action and deed Willis gave preferential treatment to one fighter over another by failing to administer the rules. Again, Willis started the ten-count. His professionalism immediately kicked in. He knew what he was supposed to do. And then something else happened entirely. 

The egregious nature of Willis' conduct cannot be marginalized or explained away. This wasn't a borderline low blow or a determination of whether a cut was caused by a head butt or a punch. This was far more obvious. Tank's conduct was staring him in the face. And at that point Willis refused to follow the rules of the sport. 

The tragic nature of Willis' behavior was that the fight was declared a draw. Should Willis had rightly counted the knockdown (to say nothing of a potential disqualification), then the underdog Roach would have had the biggest win of his career, a life-changing opportunity for him. Instead, Tank was able to escape with his lightweight belt.  

Roach may never have an opportunity like that again. On this one night, he should have been the deserved winner over one of the best fighters in the sport. Boxing is not about who is supposed to win; it's about what happens on fight night. Roach should have left with the glory. 

Willis had been a solid ref for many years, but this is not the first time he's had a serious shortcoming. Earlier in the year, he reffed a dreadful fight between heavyweights Brandon Moore and Skylar Lacy, where Willis was reluctant to disqualify Lacy, even after the fighter had demonstrated no interest in actually fighting. Lacy spent most of the fight wrestling. Only when Lacy finally tackled Moore out of the ring, where both fighters could have seriously been hurt, did Willis disqualify Lacy. And even in that moment, Willis exhibited inexplicable conduct. He started his count of 20 (which is what happens when a fighter is knocked out of the ring) and then just stopped mid-count to disqualify Lacy. Willis' arbitrariness and indecisiveness during the fight was plain to see. 

We've seen refs fall off the cliff before. Tony Weeks was one of the best in the business until he began to stop fights inexplicably early. Kenny Bayless suddenly decided to stop letting boxers fight on the inside. Their ability to correctly apply the rules of the sport left them quickly. With Willis, who's been a pro boxing ref for over 20 years, it appears that he has met a similar fate; he can no longer be trusted to administer the sport's rules in real time. 

But as the New York State Athletic Commission considers action on Willis, they might want to think about investigating themselves as well. During the 10th round of the fight, the Prime broadcasters relayed that the NYSAC reviewed the actions of the previous round utilizing their instant replay mechanism, and decided to take no further action. In essence, they, like Willis, refused to arrive at the correct decision, even if the right call was one that was so obvious to make. 

The worst thing for boxing is for people to question the legitimacy of the sporting contest. It's far more dangerous to the future health of the sport than any other factor. If there are no rules, if there is no order, then boxing no longer becomes a credible enterprise. 

The NYSAC cannot allow so blatant a transgression to go unpunished. Willis can't be allowed to continue; he can't come back from this. His conduct was that detrimental to the sport. What happened on Saturday was toxic. It hurt the sport globally. The NYSAC didn't cover themselves in glory either. They should hold their own inquest after their first order of business is taken care of: that Steve Willis can't work for them ever again. 

Adam Abramowitz is the founder and head writer of saturdaynightboxing.com. 

He's a contributing writer for Ring Magazine, a member of the Ring Magazine Ratings Panel, the Transnational Boxing Rankings Board, and the Boxing Writers Association of America.

Email: saturdaynightboxing@hotmail.com

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Opinions and Observations: Beterbiev-Bivol 2

At first the rematch played out as the 13th round of their October fight. Artur Beterbiev applied relentless pressure, stepping on the gas, digging jabs and right hands to the body, and making Dmitry Bivol burn off a lot of energy trying to be evasive. Beterbiev was determined to leave no doubt as to whom rightfully deserved the victory in their first bout (Beterbiev won that by majority decision).  

But then two things changed the trajectory of the fight. Beterbiev abandoned his body work and Bivol decided to spend less time in retreat. By the sixth round Bivol started to really sit down on his punches. He also threw more in combination. 

The second half of the fight featured the best work that Bivol did in the match. When Beterbiev attacked at close range, Bivol was often masterful at hitting him on the way in and spinning out before Beterbiev could land anything of substance. I thought that Bivol's defense on the inside was better than it was in October; I believe that his temperament had changed as well. On Saturday he was in no mood to f$@* around and find out on the inside. He had learned that lesson in their first fight. 

Bivol (left) jabbing Beterbiev
Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank

In a sense, the rematch was a mirror image of their October bout, where Bivol opened well and then Beterbiev took over in the second half. On Saturday it was Beterbiev who started in the ascendency, but it was Bivol's superior boxing that won him a lot of rounds in the back half of the fight. And like their first bout, the fighter who was better in the second half wound up winning by majority decision. Here it was Bivol by 116-112, 115-113 and 114-114 (the same exact scores for Beterbiev in the first bout). 

So perhaps Saturday's fight may be seen as a reversal, but to me the final result was the exact same. I had both bouts even, with the acknowledgment that Bivol or Beterbiev could have been awarded either fight. From my perspective, they have fought 24 rounds and I've yet to see a conclusive victor. 

I enjoyed the rematch more than their first fight. To me I thought that Beterbiev gave up too many early rounds in October by not letting his hands go. He was too casual in starting the fight. I also believe that Bivol made some poor tactical decisions in the first fight, especially when trying to mix it up with Beterbiev on the inside. 

Saturday's fight wasn't about giving rounds away. From that perspective, the fight was more satisfying. Each fighter was contesting every round. However, Beterbiev, to my surprise, couldn't sustain pressure for 12 rounds. Bivol also made fewer mistakes in the rematch. The fight didn't start his way, but he was able to right the ship. He spent very little time along the ropes, and he was also more defensively aware. Yes, he got cracked by some big shots, but he avoided those devastating short counters that Beterbiev detonated in the first fight. As a result, he spent less of the rematch in survival mode. More importantly, he didn't let rounds slip away after having them won, like he did in their first fight. 

Although Bivol's lows were fewer in the rematch, I also don't believe that his highs were as good as the first fight, where he had sustained dominance through large portions of the bout. There were points of October's match where he was legitimately piecing up Beterbiev, as if they didn't belong in the same ring together. In the rematch, Bivol avoided calamity, but he was also more judicious in opening up. Perhaps that was a smarter play. Ultimately, it was enough to get the job done, officially at least, but I still observed an abundance of caution from him, especially in the first five rounds in the fight. 

But even if you believe that Bivol did enough to win on Saturday, there can be no dispute that he got cracked in the 12th and had one of his worst rounds of the fight. So, when he could have really needed the final round, he still didn't take it. Consequently, he had to rely on the judges and sweat it out. Two of the judges liked his work enough, and that carried the day. 

So now we've had two "undisputed" fights between Beterbiev and Bivol and yet I feel that both fights are disputed. It's clear to me that this will be the two-headed monster era of Beterbiev/Bivol at light heavyweight. Both fights were so close that who won bout one or bout two is almost immaterial to me. Now that's not a bad thing; it just shows that the two fighters have similar talent levels.

I'd give Saturday's fight an 8/10, whereas the first for me was closer to a 7/10. There were fewer mistakes, fewer regrets. I still believe that the fighters themselves are better than the fights that they have produced. At his heart, Bivol is a neutralizer. If he's in a fight of the year, then something went really badly for him. He's not one who's seeking out a war. He remains a complicated puzzle, where only Beterbiev, officially, has been able to solve it. Or at least that's what the judges told me. The officials have it one a piece. I have yet to find a winner. 

These are compelling fighters, among the best of their era, but they have sized each other up and at best have found small margins over 24 rounds to give each a nominal leg up in a pair of fights. They have tried their best, but to me I couldn't tell you which one has been better. I'd like to see them get inducted to Canastota together.  

Adam Abramowitz is the founder and head writer of saturdaynightboxing.com. 

He's a contributing writer for Ring Magazine, a member of the Ring Magazine Ratings Panel, the Transnational Boxing Rankings Board, and the Boxing Writers Association of America.

Email: saturdaynightboxing@hotmail.com

snboxing on twitter. SN Boxing on Facebook   

Beterbiev-Bivol 2: Preview and Prediction

Before we address Saturday's undisputed light heavyweight rematch between Artur Beterbiev (21-0, 20 KOs) and Dmitry Bivol (23-1, 12 KOs), let's try to understand what exactly happened during their first fight in October. After 12 rounds, opinion was split as to who won. The judges awarded the fight to Beterbiev via a majority decision, 116-112, 115-113 and 114-114, but it seemed like for every person who had Beterbiev winning, there was someone who thought that Bivol deserved it. (I scored the fight a draw.)

What made the fight so difficult to score were two distinct dynamics: 1. There were a few inconsequential rounds in the beginning of the fight where not a ton happened (the third round was a great example of this). Bivol was busier, but Beterbiev landed a couple of eye-catching shots. 2. There were two rounds (the seventh and the tenth) where Bivol was dominating the action, then got countered in the last 30 seconds, and was visibly hurt by the end of the round. Those rounds were the definition of "what you like." Should Bivol's dominance through most of the round be rewarded or does Beterbiev's significant damage in the last few seconds carry it? 

Their October fight fell into a gray area of boxing scoring, where the judges' cards were defensible, but legitimate differences of opinion could be warranted based on the action, or, at times, inaction of the bout. In my opinion, there were a possible eight rounds to give to Beterbiev and there were eight rounds where a judge could give it to Bivol. There were that many swing rounds in the fight.

Beterbiev (left) and Bivol trading in October
Photo courtesy of Mikey Williams/Top Rank

Now this takes us to Saturday. What are the lessons learned for each fighter? For Beterbiev, it's obvious: Don't start as slowly. It's clear that Beterbiev, who had previously knocked out every opponent prior to Bivol, was concerned about the pacing of the fight. Having never gone 12 before, he wanted to make sure that he had enough in the tank in the second half of the fight. He wound up certainly having the juice at the end and dominated the championship rounds, but he definitely gave up some early rounds by not being busy enough. 

For the rematch, Beterbiev needs to bring the heat from the opening bell. Beterbiev now knows that he can hurt Bivol. He must apply maximum pressure and ferocity on Saturday. Yes, he escaped with the victory in October, but it could have gone the other way.

For Bivol, he has one adjustment to make. I believe that he lost the fight on the scorecards by being too greedy. I was shocked to see him bring the action to Beterbiev on the inside, and it was to his detriment. For Bivol, it was not enough to win rounds; he wanted to dominate. I thought that Bivol would play safety-first. But that's not what happened. As he unloaded on Beterbiev on the inside, he got countered by short, hard shots that did significant damage. And in an instant, all the good work that Bivol did earlier in those rounds was chucked in the bin. He went from having the upper hand to being in survival mode in the blink of an eye. 

There was an arrogance from Bivol that I didn't anticipate. But maybe I wasn't looking closely enough. In Bivol's signature win earlier in his career, against Canelo, the same pattern played out, minus the big counters. Bivol did very well on the outside. However, Bivol wasn't content just to play it safe. He took it to Canelo on the inside as well, as several of the middle rounds were spent with Bivol teeing off on Canelo, who had his back to the ropes. 

We like to think of Bivol as this machine-like, robotic boxer. But in big fights it's clear that his ego does play a part. He wants to dominate his opponent, embarrass him. Bivol wants the world to see his greatness. 

For Bivol to win on Saturday, he's going to have to swallow a bitter pill. He must box from mid-range or at a distance and he can't take chances on the inside. And he's going to have to stick to this pattern for 12 rounds. Yes, we've seen him do this against lesser opponents, but I'm not sure if he can sell himself on this approach against Beterbiev. After all, Bivol, like many others, believes that he won the first fight; it was the judges' problem, not his. 

My pick for Saturday is Beterbiev by knockout. I didn't pick Beterbiev to win the first fight and I don't believe that he won it either. But I think that his adjustment is more straight-forward. Artur, go to Bivol earlier. Ok, he says. And he does it. He knows he can hurt Bivol. He just needs to give himself more of the fight to work with. It's not going to be one shot that ends the bout, but sustained pressure and damage over time. 

I don't believe that Bivol can make it through 12 rounds against a Beterbiev who is determined to apply pressure from round one. Beterbiev now knows he can go 12. He has seen the best that Bivol can offer. It wasn't Beterbiev who was getting hurt. Bivol is going to have to keep the ego in check and yet still do enough to stay upright, stay off the canvas, and win rounds against a foe who is determined to finish him. I think it's too tall of an order. I'll take Beterbiev by late stoppage. 

Artur Beterbiev defeats Dmitry Bivol by 11th-round stoppage. 

Adam Abramowitz is the founder and head writer of saturdaynightboxing.com. 

He's a contributing writer for Ring Magazine, a member of the Ring Magazine Ratings Panel, the Transnational Boxing Rankings Board, and the Boxing Writers Association of America.

Email: saturdaynightboxing@hotmail.com

snboxing on twitter. SN Boxing on Facebook  

Opinions and Observations: Benavidez-Morrell

For all of David Morrell's amateur success, knockouts in the pros, and athletic talent, it was clear as early as the first round that he wasn't prepared for what David Benavidez had to offer on Saturday night. The first significant blows that Benavidez landed were lead right hooks that looped around Morrell's high guard and hit him squarely on the side of the head. Now those aren't traditional punches for an orthodox fighter to throw; still, there's a lot of tape on Benavidez and the right hooks weren't exactly a surprise. Yet, Morrell's defense was lacking. 

As the rounds continued, Benavidez landed repeatedly with two-punch combinations where the first shot of the sequence was a throwaway punch only for the second one to land with maximum force. He executed this often with the left hook/right hook to the body and the straight right/left hook to the body. Here again, Morrell didn't have the ability to defend himself properly. 

Benavidez (right) lands an uppercut
Photo courtesy of Esther Lin

But it wasn't all one-way traffic for Benavidez in the fight. On multiple occasions, Morrell caught Benavidez with a short right hook as Benavidez was coming in. He stunned Benavidez with the punch in the 4th and dropped him in the 11th with it. Morrell also found moments to explode off the ropes with quick combinations that were able to temporarily quell Benavidez's momentum. 

However, most of the fight consisted of Benavidez pressing forward and causing damage with his wide array of punches. His weapons were manifold: jab, left hook, right hook, straight right, left uppercut, right uppercut, body punches, and combinations. He had every punch available at his disposal. 

To Morrell's credit, he took a lot of punishment in the fight yet never stopped trying. He fought well in the championship rounds and put forth a spirited effort. There were multiple times in the fight where he was being battered, yet he summoned the fortitude to fire off massive power shots at Benavidez. Morrell was being beaten, but he refused to act like a beaten fighter. 

Benavidez won the fight by a unanimous decision, 115-111, 115-111 and 118-108. The funky scores could be explained by Morrell losing a point in the 11th for hitting Benavidez well after the final bell had rung in the round. I had it 116-110. 

Although this fight was not for a major light heavyweight title, it turned out to be a coming out party for Benavidez. In a raucous T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas, Benavidez put on a star-making performance. Although facing an undefeated fighter with considerable hype, Benavidez established his supremacy quickly. The crowd ate it up. They loved his power punching, his spite, his come-forward aggression, his showmanship, and his willingness to mix it up. 

It's been an incremental build for Benavidez, but now at the age of 28 and with a pristine 30-0 record with 24 knockouts, it's clear that he has become a significant draw in the sport. And although two long-time elite fighters, Artur Beterbiev and Dmitry Bivol, also reside in the 175-lb. division, Benavidez and his supporters will like their chances against anyone. 

What's often been forgotten about Benavidez is his considerable boxing education. Many will comment on his size, his pressure and his offensive output, but there is much more to him in the ring. Turning pro well before his 18th birthday, sparring the likes of Gennadiy Golovkin, Bivol and Gilberto Ramirez, coming from a fighting family, Benavidez has amassed a collection of unusual skills and talents that make him formidable in the ring. 

As a big man, he is just as comfortable fighting on the inside as he is at range. Often, he prefers to dish out damage in close quarters. Although he's known as an aggressor in the ring, he can spring traps if he is being pursued. 

Despite what may appear to some as sloppy footwork, he routinely cuts off the ring on supposedly superior athletes, like Morrell, Caleb Plant and Demetrius Andrade. Saturday's fight against Morrell also showed how successful he is at keeping an opponent in his wheelhouse. He'll use his arms to push an opponent back into place. He'll hold an opponent's head and hit (an illegal maneuver, but he gets away with it). He'll also use his body to close off exit routes, which he did multiple times against Morrell. Benavidez used his left shoulder to block Morrell from exiting to his own right side (his preferred route), which allowed Benavidez to continue to do damage at close range. 

Benavidez has punches from every range. After throwing long right hooks from distance on Saturday, he then shortened up his right to land straight down the middle. In close he threw sickening body shots and left uppercuts. At mid-range, he landed consistently with his jab and short right hands. 

Another aspect of Benavidez that is often overlooked is his defense. Along with Canelo, Benavidez may be the best in boxing at blocking shots with his arms while pressing forward. He doesn't lose his aggression, positioning or intent when facing incoming fire. In that he likes exchanges, he will get hit at times, but he was the one with the far superior defense on Saturday. 

Benavidez with his team
Photo courtesy of Esther Lin

As for Morrell, there was a lot to like about his intangibles during the fight. Facing by far the best opponent of his career, he refused to wilt. And despite almost all his pro fights consisting of quick stoppages, Morrell displayed a spirited effort in the closing rounds. The fight had not been beaten out of him. 

However, Morrell's defense just wasn't good enough on Saturday. Benavidez landed 40% of his shots in the fight and most of those weren't love taps. Morrell was getting hit by thunder. Although Morrell's starting hand positioning was usually sound, his defensive reflexes weren't quick enough to block Benavidez's attacks. Furthermore, he didn't have the intuitive understanding in how to make defensive adjustments during the fight. Yes, Benavidez can throw a kitchen sick at an opponent, but there was never a point in the fight where Morrell was successful at taking away a weapon or two; more often Benavidez behaved in the ring like he could throw and land anything that he wanted. 

On offense Morrell needs to broaden his skillset. He's perfectly fine coming forward or exploding with a quick combination. However, Morrell ignored Benavidez's body throughout the fight, which demonstrated either a lack of skills or confidence with this part of his game. Morrell's jab was also a non-factor in the fight. And perhaps most importantly, Morrell needs to understand how to win slower rounds. He prefers to fight in a frenetic style, but as Saturday showed, against world-class opponents, more is needed. He wasn't setting up shots. He was not clinching to buy time. He was not using his legs like he could have. He wasn't cagey. He wanted to win firefight exchanges, but he was clearly second best in that category. 

In a perfect world, Morrell would have had better development fights prior to Benavidez. But to Morrell's credit, he took the challenge, and now his team can make a real assessment about what they have and what they need to improve upon going forward. This experience was infinitely more important in Morrell's long-term development than additional early-round knockouts against substandard opposition. 

As for Benavidez, I believe that he's reached another echelon in the sport. Yes, there are threats out there and he could certainly lose, but he has the fight style, talent and charisma to take boxing fans on a wonderful journey. His fights guarantee action, power punching, high degrees of skill and the type of fearlessness that reminds fans why they love the sport. If he can stay focused out-of-the ring, he could have a spectacular run over the next five years. 

With the dearth of American boxing stars at the moment, Benavidez will be asked to carry a lot of water for the sport. But I think this is exactly where he wants to be. He sees himself as a star. He believes that he is among boxing's best. He knows that now is his time. And it could be quite a time for all of us.  

Adam Abramowitz is the founder and head writer of saturdaynightboxing.com. 

He's a contributing writer for Ring Magazine, a member of the Ring Magazine Ratings Panel, the Transnational Boxing Rankings Board, and the Boxing Writers Association of America.

Email: saturdaynightboxing@hotmail.com

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