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.  

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

He's 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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The Unloved Junior Lightweights

In professional boxing, often who you know, or, more to the point, who you are represented by, goes a long way to determining opportunity. Time after time, we see the same names get recycled at the top level of the sport, even if fighters have had bad performances or knockout losses. These are fighters who have connected promoters and managers. Their representatives have been able to successfully leverage their own standing in the sport to get their guys additional chances. 

Yet, there is another group of top fighters. These fighters often wait years for a shot, irrespective of their talent level. It doesn't matter if they have shiny records or beat quality opposition; they remain on the outside looking in. 

Albert Bell (from Toledo, Ohio) and Jordan White (from the Washington D.C. area) are two such fighters. Despite dominating credible opposition for years, they still wait for a title shot. Bell, already 33 years old, sports a sterling record of 27-0. He's a brilliant boxer who uses his range and athleticism to outbox opponents. Once upon a time he was signed with Top Rank and despite beating solid, undefeated prospect Andy Vences in 2019, by 2021 he was shown the door. 

Albert Bell after his latest victory
Photo courtesy of Vick Green

Years ago, I had asked a Top Rank executive about Bell and the exec was less than thrilled with him. I said to him that Bell had the ability to win a title, and I'm paraphrasing here, but the exec said not on his watch. 

Bell's knock is a lack of power. He only has nine knockouts in his career and four of those have occurred after he was relegated to the promotional wilderness.

White's position is even more baffling. At 27, he's 19-1. He lost his fifth pro fight to Adam Lopez (no shame in that) where he claimed that he suffered a serious arm injury during the bout. White had been a solid amateur with international experience. He also sports 12 knockouts in his 20 pro fights. He's heavy-handed, aggressive and has a TV-friendly style. He's boxed on a Golden Boy show many years ago and also featured in two Showtime cards where he stopped both opponents, yet the big opportunities didn't come. 

Both Bell and White have spent most of their career in and around the junior lightweight division, a weight class that has been mostly transient over the last five years. Title winners have come and gone and few have had significant periods of dominance. Yes, Oscar Valdez had a nice run and Emmanuel Navarrete achieved several notable victories, but in this four-belt era, it belies belief that neither of these two has even sniffed a title shot, especially when considering some of the opponents who have been marched out as "challengers."

Bell and White continue to soldier on. They both fought this month and had dominant victories. Vick Green has been promoting Bell on smaller shows and White had his last bout as a headliner on ProBox. Both remain formidable. 

I won't pretend that Bell and White are perfect fighters. Bell certainly doesn't like it on the inside and his brand of technical boxing isn't everyone's cup of tea. But his skills are obvious. White may load up too much and as a shorter fighter he may be susceptible to opponents who have length and craft. But they are credible fighters who are long past a shot at a title. 

Jordan White after his victory earlier this month
Photo courtesy of ProBox

Bell in particular has suffered at the hands of the WBO, who refused to call him as a mandatory challenger even though he was ranked highly in the organization at one point. They dropped him because he was no longer facing as they called it "top opposition," but of course this stance reinforces the vicious circle of professional boxing. If no one credible will face a top fighter, then the fighter gets penalized, all because he is inconvenient to fight. 

The current junior lightweight champs are Navarrete, O'Shaquie Foster, and Lamont Roach (the IBF title is currently vacant). Those are three solid fighters, but none of them are without warts and vulnerabilities. I'm not sure if Bell can still make 130 (his last fight was at lightweight), but there's no one at 130 who should scare him. And White would certainly relish his opportunity to bang it out with any of them. 

As boxing continues to load up on big cards in the present era, realize that several top fighters remain in the wilderness. It's clear that by now if someone notable wanted to give Bell and/or White a title shot, it would have already happened. And without support from the sanctioning bodies, these fighters won't get mandatory opportunities. Thus, they remain in purgatory. 

Bell and White are just two of many in this position throughout the sport. Sure, they might not be huge names and don't have significant followings, but make no mistake, on their night they could give the best in the division real problems. And that may be why they continue to wait. And wait. And wait. And so it goes. 

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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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

snboxing on twitter. SN Boxing on Facebook  

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

snboxing on twitter. SN Boxing on Facebook   

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

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