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LONDON – The mad world of Derek Chisora is madder even than the boxing world he lives in.

On a spring Wednesday in Central London, Chisora reaches out his hand and politely says, “How are you?”

The skies are blue, traffic is steady and people stop and stare at the heavyweight contender as he mooches from café to café with BoxingScene in tow.

He waves to restaurant owners, chats with others and ultimately decides where to go to conduct this interview and a separate one with The Guardian’s venerable Donald McRae.

We go into a back room of a boujee eatery with hefty cutlery, traditional tablecloths and mahogany panels on the walls. 

Somehow, Chisora knew Nigel Farage, head of the political party Reform, was in the building, and the fighter asked his waiter to go and fetch one of the UK’s most influential politicians to visit him at his table.

“Tell him Derek Chisora’s here,” Chisora informs the staff member.

Moments later, Farage arrives.

They’ve been pictured together before, “Delboy” and Nigel, but the Five Guys-eating heavyweight shakes hands with the politician and they make jovial small talk before Farage returns to his table and Chisora goes back to his interviews.

Is it surreal for London’s Chisora that, as a child born in Zimbabwe, he has power and influence that reaches far beyond boxing?

“Oh, yeah,” Chisora says, smiling nonchalantly.

“Have you seen my phone book? It’s a badass phone book.”

“Can I look?” he’s asked.

“I can’t show you. It’s mad.”

“Who would you say is the most famous person in that phone book, then?”

“Anthony Joshua,” he says, smiling.

“But don't your kids go to school together?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got Donald Trump Jnr and a lot of people.”

“Is there any political future for you? Is that something that you want to go into?” 

“Nah. I’d like to be the guy in the background.”

 

*

 

Derek Chisora is not often in the background. He is at the forefront, making his considerable presence felt, heckling, joking, and he is far from the rear of the heavyweight pack.

Having run up high career mileage, the 49-bout veteran Chisora (36-13, 23 KOs) puts his recent winning form down to the good will of God. Yet it wasn’t His heavy hands that saw off Gerald Washington, Joe Joyce and Otto Wallin in the past three fights of what has become an impressive late act for the 42-year-old Chisora.

But people, like yours truly, have been pleading with Chisora to retire for years. The wars will surely have taken their toll.

“Give me a fight,” he says. “If I fight, train hard and I win it, I win it. You know, it’s just fight by fight, day by day.”

It is, of course, not quite that simple. But nothing about Chisora’s complex story has been, including his switch from villain to, shall we say, anti-hero.

Asked when public sentiment changed, he identifies the moment he shelled Carlos Takam with an almighty overhand right in 2018 that triggered the now famous cheers of, “Ooooohhh, De-rek Chi-sor-a.”

“I think Carlos Takam,” he says, smiling at the memory. “And then that was it. And then the ‘War Chisora’ gravy train just kicked off. It was everything about it. And then that same year, [I was] born again. I partnered up with David Haye to manage me and stuff like that, show me another way of training and stuff like that, so it’s quite cool.”

Does he prefer the cheers over what had become familiar boos?

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I prefer people just buying tickets, coming in and enjoying the fights. I’ve had both. I’ve had boos. If you’re telling me, do I prefer boos or cheers, I pick cheers.”

Chisora contends he never tried to be a man who fans loved to hate. As divisive as he has been, it has been about being who he is rather than trying to be something he is not. He is unpredictable, no matter the surroundings. He’s a grenade with the pin half out.

“No, they just hated me because they wanted to,” he says. “But I said, you know what? Hating me means you’re going to buy tickets. Come and watch me either way. I didn’t really care.”

“Hate” is a strong word. But Chisora’s rap sheet of bad behavior stretches almost as long as his record.

“I think they hated it, but now they like it,” he adds. “So who knows?” 

“But you’re the good guy now?”

“I still do the same nonsense, but now you look at it in different eyes.”

Asked what the wildest thing he has done is, he sighs: “The maddest thing I’ve done? I don’t know, man, I don’t know.”

With that, he is reminded, in short order, of kissing Carl Baker at a weigh-in, slapping Vitali Klitschko, spitting water at Vitali’s brother Wladimir, throwing a table at a press conference with Dillian Whyte and brawling with David Haye in Munich.

“That’s off the top of my head,” I say to him.

“I don’t know, man, it’s alright. It’s just everyday life. It's everyday life.”

Is the table we are seated at safe, considering this line of questioning?

“Yeah, it’s marble, so it’s alright.”

And has he gone too far with any of the above?

“No.”

 

**

 

Chisora made his debut in February 2007 on the undercard of one of the great modern British fights, when Australia’s Michael Katsidis and Luton’s Graham Earl went to war. His second contest came in front of more than 40,000 fans at Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, Wales, against veteran Tony Booth, in the bout before Joe Calzaghe blitzed Peter Manfredo.

“And they fucking booed me,” he quickly slips in.

“Straight away. Bastards.”

But Chisora reflects with a smile. Even though he has reinvented himself and been through so much – much of it self-inflicted – he says he has appreciated the whole journey. He can’t pick out a favorite phase.

“I’ve enjoyed all of it, mate,” he said. “You don’t understand. I’ve loved it. I enjoyed it. It’s made me so happy.”

With that, Chisora sends a voice note to a team member to extend the parking on his car.

His smart car, with the registration plate 4 WAR, is parked across the street.

It is understated, aside from the personalised plate, but handy for his jaunts around the capital. 

There won’t be many in the heavyweight rankings who would squeeze themselves into such a vehicle, and Chisora is No. 2 with the IBF, sits at No. 7 with the WBO and at No. 13 with the WBC.

It is a lively division; all eyes will turn to it on April 4 at the O2 in London, where Chisora will fight Deontay Wilder in the 50th professional fight of both of their careers.

Chisora has been a contender, a gatekeeper and – dare one say it? – a journeyman through his career. He has also faced the majority of the best big men of his era. 

When asked who is the best he has boxed, his reply comes in an instant.

“Oleksandr.”

He delivers it in a way that makes you wonder about the validity of the question, and then you think back to the fact he has fought Vitali Klitschko, Tyson Fury, Haye, et al.

“Movement. Movement,” he says, when asked why Usyk has risen to the top.

“He beats everybody by movement. Because, remember, in boxing we are trained to hit a target and not move our feet. But Oleksandr, he hits the target, moves, changes angles and moves on this side and moves on that side. So it’s quite difficult. I knew he was going to be the man because everybody else was ducking him. I boxed him, and then his next big fight was with AJ at Tottenham. Great fight; he won it. And then the return fight, again, he won it. And then from there, I knew he was going to be a superstar.”

So why did Chisora do better against Usyk than he did in three fights with Tyson Fury?

“I don’t know,” he initially replies.

But Chisora pauses to think and then comes up with a longer answer.

“Coaches, trainers. … I boxed Tyson Fury three times with Don Charles. And Oleksandr, I boxed with Alex and Marios [Demetriades, from the London Shootfighters gym]. So this is who I’m with, Alex and Marios.”

Chisora points to the era of Floyd Mayweather Jnr, Ricky Hatton and Manny Pacquiao as the one that really hooked him.

“In the golden era of HBO, you remember all that?” he says.

“We used to wake up in the morning, put the TV on and start watching HBO from New York Madison Square Garden or the MGM. That was my era watching boxing. And Don King Promotions and stuff like that.”

Chisora mentioning Hatton by name is interesting, not least because they cut very different personalities. Perhaps more pertinently is that Hatton toiled badly in retirement, culminating in his death in 2025, aged just 47.

By his own admission, Chisora is addicted to fighting, so how will he cope when he no longer has boxing in his life? Does he have concerns about giving up the job? He has long said this next fight, with Wilder, will mark his conclusion in the sport.

“It depends,” he says, shrugging. “When you retire at the top, you have to go see a psychologist or a therapist to put you on the right track. Because without seeing a therapist, you’re just going in a rabbit hole. So that’s all I do. But you have to [be prepared for life after sport]. I don’t care. Anybody out there, if you’re ready to put the gloves down or the football boots down, you’ve got to see a therapist.”

Because how do you go from being in an arena with 20,000 singing your name to being a civilian?

“It’s a drug, yeah,” Chisora agrees. “Fighting is a drug. I’ve been doing it since I was 16, 17. But now I’m 42. The high point is actually the whole build-up to it. You know, you start training and you’re not good at your skill at that moment. And by the time you get to the fight, you’re amazing. You’re firing on all cylinders. And then suddenly you fight for about 36 minutes, you win the fight. And then, wow, you’re pumped up. And then you’re looking for another one. The moment you walk out of the ring, you're crashing. It’s downhill. You crash. It's a fucking big crash, bro.”

 

***

 

It is accurate to say that a few opponents Chisora has faced have failed tests for banned substances, including Fury, Dillian Whyte and Robert Helenius. Chisora won’t say whether he thinks PEDs are rife within boxing, but he emphasizes his belief that there should be zero tolerance for cheats.

“If you fail a drug test, 10 years,” he says abruptly.

When it is pointed out to him that a decade is almost an entire career, he doubles down.

“Ten years,” he says. “Banned, that's it. There should be nothing else. It doesn’t matter what the excuse or reason is, if you’re positive, you’re out.”

Of course, Chisora’s career now spans nearly 20 years. To a degree, that surprises even him.

“The other day, I watched one of my fights and I said to my wife, ‘I don’t know why I’m boxing, because I can’t box,” he says, laughing. “I don’t [often] look at my fights. From the one in Wembley you first saw, to the one I’m fighting with Deontay Wilder, I would never see my fights.”

It was in 2012 when Chisora, a pro novice, really, traveled to Germany to face then WBC heavyweight titleholder Vitali Klitschko. Not long before, he had been due to face Wladimir, who pulled out because of an injury in the days before the bout. Chisora surprised many that night, showing courage and bravery and giving Klitschko one of his hardest fights.

“I don’t know if I just survived, I don’t know. The only thing I know, I retired him after that fight. Good fun, though.”

Klitschko beat Manuel Charr seven months later and walked away.

Boxing might be fun for Chisora, but it is also dangerous. When Chisora was linked to a fight with Wilder several years ago, there were legitimate concerns for his health. Now, with Wilder’s subsequent decline and Chisora’s purple patch, the odds have leveled, but the issue of Chisora’s future health cannot be ignored.

And whether this is really “fight No. 50 and out” remains to be seen.

It was MF Pro, which promotes the O2 event, that pitched the bout to both boxers “with the right numbers.”

“People are always concerned about people’s health,” Chisora says. “They need to be concerned about their own health. Because at the end of the day, you see how life is here. It’s like ... people are always concerned about other people. When you phone up, those people say, ‘Oh, mate, I can’t pay my rent. I can’t pay my mortgage. Can you help me out?’ 

‘[It’s] oh, can I call you back?’

“But really and truly, they’re not concerned about that. It’s bullshit. They’re just jealous because they can’t do what I’m doing. Because in their life, they’re failing. It’s jealousy. It’s just ... it’s a waste.”

Chisora is then told that people are worried for him, for all he has given of himself in the ring.

“But I’m not punchy, though,” he says. “I’m alright.”

He is also aware of his high ratings with the sanctioning bodies. Victory over Wilder, and he will remain a top contender. And he maintains he would be more than happy to still call it a day.

“Why not?” he replies, when asked if he could retire in that position. 

“Because you’re one step from the promised land.” he’s told.

“I’m in promised land already, mate,” Chisora says. “I can go anywhere I want. I can walk in. I can shake hands with anybody I want. I’m already in promised land. I already made it. I don’t need a belt to make it.”

Chisora is an anomaly in more ways than one. He is one of the few top heavyweights to not feature on one of the Riyadh Season shows. When asked why, he initially says: “Ask Turki.”

Then he explains that he initially turned down a fight with Jarrell Miller and has not been summoned since by Saudi Arabian financier Turki Alalshikh.

“From there, they just blacklisted me, but I don’t really care,” he continues. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I don’t need to be on Saudi shows to prove my anything. I’m fucking happy.”

 

****

 

There are clearly multiple sides to Chisora. The spectre of the Wilder fight and Chisora’s addiction to his profession looms over everything. In a bid to see his passion shine through, I ask him to place himself at the curtain for the Wilder ringwalk and to talk about the goosebumps of excitement he will feel.

“Goosebumps, man. I get goosebumps when I hang out with my kids,” he says. “For me, it’s just a fight.”

His children are 11, six and one. With that, Chisora reaches for his phone and shows me a video of his middle child hitting a punch bag.

Does he want them to box?

“If he wants to box, yeah,” Chisora said. “I made these sacrifices so they don’t have to do it. [He can] do whatever he wants to do. He could be a political leader. He can do whatever he wants to do. I’ll just direct him.”

With that, Chisora and I talk about some of our interactions over the 20 years we have known one another. When I picked Wladimir Klitschko to defeat him on Sky Sports, the next time I saw him he said he would have me kidnapped. Years later, at a Boyz II Men concert in Wembley, we spoke for a long time about real life as our wives powdered their noses.

“Exactly. It depends what mood I’m in,” he says, fiendishly grinning. “It depends what side of the bed I woke up on.” 

We are part of the same sport, in very different roles and with different pasts and doubtless going in different directions. But it is Chisora’s human side that is easily his most alluring. Talking about life’s small pleasures might be comparatively boring to some, but he radiates warmth as he leans in and confides: “Mate, can I be honest? My bubble and everybody’s bubble is totally different, man. My bubble is, I live life, bro. I enjoy life. Yeah. I don’t mess around. The people around me, they are surprised with how I enjoy life. I don’t enjoy life, but when I say enjoy life, I don’t say, ‘Oh, we go out and party, we go out here.’ No, no, no.

“I enjoy life with the people around me. Like this Sunday, I’m making a Sunday roast. I’m with about 18 of my friends and their wives and their kids, and I’m making them a Sunday roast. The kids are in the garden playing, and that's how I enjoy life. On Friday, happy Fridays at my house, people come with their wives and just chill. That’s how I enjoy life. I don’t enjoy life by getting on a plane. No, no, no. I enjoy life where I am. I bought a beautiful house. Very, very homely. So, my friends come with their kids. Everybody’s welcome, as long as you’re a good person.”

What about material things?

“They used to drive me a long time ago, and they’re not anymore,” he says, shaking his head.

“That’s my only car,” he says, referring to the smart car. 

I interrupt: “Because Fury told me he drove this old estate, but he’s got some mad cars as well.”

“Fury likes cars,” Chisora replies. “Tyson likes cars. You know, Tyson loves cars. Because it’s a Traveller thing, it’s a gypsy thing. They love cars. I don’t.”

“Didn’t you have a car phase?”

“No, I never had a car phase.

“I bought an ML. If I want to drive something, I’ll buy it, and I’ll drive it for a while.

“Right now, I’m like, I want to buy a new car and I’ll go to the showroom, and they’ll drop it to my house. And then I’m like, ‘I don’t need it.’ And phone them back, and I’ll figure out why I don’t want it.” 

Chisora was an enigma when he came on to the scene in 2007. He remains so now.

 

*****

 

We shake hands and part ways. Moments later, I hear a roar of “Oi oi” and Chisora puts his head out of his smart car and shouts, “See you later!”

“Was that Derek Chisora?” a passer-by asks me.

Chisora would have liked that.

“It was,” I answered, not quite sure how surreal the moment was.

I’d asked Chisora earlier in the conversation about fame, people wanting photos and being mobbed some of the time.

“It’s OK,” he said. “You know, there’s a saying: You should be happy when they’re asking for photos. You should be more upset when they don’t ask for photos anymore. It’s quite sad when they don't ask. When they ask for photos, I don’t mind.”

It was something he never believed would happen.

“Nah, I never thought about that,” he said.

And just like that, he was on his way.

Through the London traffic and on his way to fight number 50 with Wilder.

Tris Dixon covered his first amateur boxing fight in 1996. The former editor of Boxing News, he has written for a number of international publications and newspapers, including GQ and Men’s Health, and is a board member for the Ringside Charitable Trust and the Ring of Brotherhood. He has been a broadcaster for TNT Sports and hosts the popular “Boxing Life Stories” podcast. Dixon is a British Boxing Hall of Famer, an International Boxing Hall of Fame elector, a BWAA award winner, and is the author of five boxing books, including “Damage: The Untold Story of Brain Trauma in Boxing” (shortlisted for the William Hill Sportsbook of the Year), “Warrior: A Champion’s Search for His Identity” (shortlisted for the Sunday Times International Sportsbook of the Year) and “The Road to Nowhere: A Journey Through Boxing’s Wastelands.” You can reach him @trisdixon on X and Instagram.

Former junior middleweight titleholder Tim Tszyu finally stood toe-to-toe with Denis Nurja at Tuesday’s media workout, ahead of their upcoming middleweight clash – and what seemed to stand out to him most was that, for once, his opponent didn’t stand out.

At 5ft 8½ins, Tszyu has fought 6ft 6ins “Towering Inferno” Sebastian Fundora twice in the past two years and hasn’t so much as matched the height of an opponent in nine fights since winning a unanimous decision over Takeshi Inoue (5ft 8ins) in 2021. But on Tuesday, Tszyu faced off with Nurja at Bondi Boxing gym in Sydney and, this time around, stood eye-to-eye with his foe.

“Finally, someone my height,” said Tszyu, 26-3 (18 KOs). “Usually I’m looking up, so it’s nice to have someone your own height. Nurja seems ready, which is good. At least he’s here nice and early.”

It’s anyone’s guess whether pre-fight measurements or arrival times will have any effect whatsoever on the outcome of Saturday’s main event at WIN Entertainment Centre in Wollongong, Australia. More likely, it will be Tszyu’s first full training camp with trainer Joel Diaz and Nurja’s inexperience at the world level that dictate terms.

Sydney’s Tszyu, who for weeks had been putting in work at Diaz’s gym halfway across the world in Miami, is just glad to be standing on his native soil again.

“It’s unbelievable to be back home in Australia,” he said. “I’m loving being back home. Australia is always going to be home for me. Even though I’m traveling nonstop and putting myself in uncomfortable positions at times, being back home is comforting.”

Tszyu, with Diaz’s influence, is still in the process of building himself back – and, he hopes, beyond – the fighter he was before literally running into Fundora for the first time in March 2024, when an errant elbow sliced open Tszyu and led to a bloody, half-blind points loss that few saw coming.

He is just 2-3 in his past five fights, including a stoppage loss to Bakhram Murtazaliev in October 2024 and another defeat – this time a knockout – against Fundora in their rematch last July. Tszyu has since taken apart Anthony Velasquez in a 10-round whitewashing, and Nurja, 20-0 (9 KOs), is essentially the next stop on his comeback tour. In fact, there has already been open dialogue about Tszyu next facing Errol Spence Jnr in an interesting crossroads showdown of pound-for-pound fighters who have fallen on somewhat hard times.

Nurja isn’t interested in hearing about Tszyu’s potential future dates.

“I understand these thoughts,” Nurja said Tuesday, “but he still has to pass through me before thinking about Errol Spence Jnr, which is no easy task.

“It’s better not to talk about what’s next or the plans before a fight. We have a lot of plans we want to carry out and don’t want to give away anything.”

To be fair, Tszyu’s attention seems fully trained on the task at hand.

“The word annihilation has been in my head and repeated in my head for the last seven weeks,” he said. “That’s all I want to do. My whole purpose right now is just to annihilate.”

After starting his career 24-0, with quality wins over Terrell Gausha, Tony Harrison, Carlos Ocampo and Brian Mendoza – against whom he defended a 154lbs title – Tszyu’s recent stumbles seem to have focused his thoughts, or at least given him, at age 31, a far greater appreciation of the fragility of a livelihood in boxing.

“Everything is at risk – your whole career,” Tszyu said. “That’s what you do in this sport. You put everything on the line every time. The biggest risk is not just losing, but your health. You’re always one punch away, so I prepare strong every time because I know what’s ahead.

“I wouldn’t say I fear losing, but it’s not a good feeling and it’s not something I want to experience again. My motivation throughout this training camp, and in life right now, is victory by any means necessary.

“I need to win. And the win comes from the way I want to do it.”

Jason Langendorf is the former Boxing Editor of ESPN.com, was a contributor to Ringside Seat and the Queensberry Rules, and has written about boxing for Vice, The Guardian, Sun-Times and other publications. A member of the Boxing Writers Association of America, he can be found at LinkedIn and followed on X and Bluesky.

Presuming light heavyweight champion Dmitry Bivol successfully negotiates his May 30 defense against Michael Eifert, which was ordered by the IBF, then the IBA plans to move ahead with negotiations for a third bout against Artur Beterbiev.

Bivol and Beterbiev have history. Beterbiev won their first bout via majority decision following a terrific bout in October 2024. Bivol, however, would gain both revenge and ownership of all four light heavyweight sanctioning body belts in their February 2025 rematch.

A third bout was thought to be on the way. Turki Alalshikh, who financed the first two contests, declared it would happen but a back injury to Bivol, on which he had surgery last year, seemingly put negotiations on hold. Though numerous "secondary" belt holders have since been awarded titles, Bivol still holds the WBA, WBO and IBF titles. David Benavidez now wears the WBC strap.

Now the IBA’s president, Umar Kremlev, has made clear his intentions regarding a rubber match, which he hopes to stage in Moscow.

“IBA stands ready to organise a trilogy fight between Bivol and Beterbiev,” Kremlev states as per a press release. “These are two of the finest boxers in the world, and their rivalry represents a truly global sporting historical event.

“However, both fighters are expected to complete one interim bout before facing each other again. Thereafter, by the end of the year, it should be possible to move forward with firm planning and organisation of the third fight.

“Our priority is to stage this trilogy in Russia. In my view, hosting such a bout is entirely feasible at present. Given the current global circumstances, Moscow represents a suitable and secure venue for an event of this scale, with all the necessary infrastructure in place to deliver it at the very highest level.”

The fight with Eifert is set for Yekateringburg, Russia.

Michael Zerafa has agreed to fight Chris Eubank Jnr after parting ways with No Limit.

The Australian’s agreement with the promotional organisation ended in the aftermath of his no contest in January with Nikita Tszyu, and he is ready to fight Eubank Jnr at a catchweight in the region of 164lbs in his home city of Melbourne in August or September.

Eubank Jnr’s rematch with Conor Benn at middleweight in November ended in defeat, perhaps partly because of his ongoing struggles to make 160lbs, and though his desire is to fight at super middleweight, according to Zerafa he is willing to compromise to participate in a contest that was almost made in 2024.

The Briton instead then fought and stopped Kamil Szeremeta, but with both of their options limited they have identified each other as suitable opponents against which to attempt to revive their careers, and to that end a potentially popular British-Australian match-up could be next.

“We’ve agreed,” the 34-year-old Zerafa told BoxingScene. “The fight’s real. Talk’s real. They want to come to Australia. They’ve seen the fights with [George] Kambosos and [Devin] Haney – the two fights there [in Melbourne]. They’ve seen the [Jeff] Horn and [Manny] Pacquiao fights. 

“I’m a free agent, after the last saga, and we mutually went our ways. We left on good terms. But I’ve been talking to a few promoters and the guys that organised the Haney-Kambosos fights, and there’s a lot of people putting their hands up. It all comes down to who’s the better offer.

“I was one of four potential opponents in 2024. The name is royalty, with his old man and whatnot, so the fight was exciting but it didn’t come through – I moved on in my career. The last two or three weeks they’ve reached out again – I’ve been talking to his manager, who’s done interviews – and the fight’s real. 

“They wanted to fight in Melbourne – it’s a financial thing, too, they’re not going to come down for peanuts. But I’ve got great backing for the Australian Government. We’ve got meetings, but it’s all looking positive.

“He tried to get me to 168. I said ‘I’m not going up that much’. I’m not the biggest middleweight, so I shut that down pretty quickly, but he was more than happy to meet somewhere in the middle – 74[kgs]; he goes down 1.5, I go up 1.5; we meet somewhere 74, 74.5 – and if the money’s good, which it will be, he’s more than happy to work with that.

“I love the opportunity of a big fight. I love being the underdog. I like testing myself, and this is what it’s all about. Eubank’s a huge name, and I’d love the opportunity.”

Zerafa’s reputation was undermined by the controversial conclusion to his fight with Tszyu, but he considers what he hopes will prove a high-profile occasion against the 36-year-old Eubank Jnr to be what he requires to rebuild it. 

“Going out there, fighting a name like Eubank – he’ll be the favourite; I’ll be the underdog – and getting the win, what happened in the past needs to be forgotten, ‘cause I’ve gone out and done something even greater,” he said. “A knockout or a win against someone of the calibre of Chris Eubank is definitely better than a no contest against Tszyu.

“Full credit to Team Eubank. He’s willing to get on a plane and come to me. They know the fights that can be put on here in Australia and he wants to be amongst that.”

 

The hype surrounding Moses Itauma is far from unprecedented, but it is rare that a heavyweight comes along who practically everyone expects to conquer the world. Whether Itauma turns out to be a true generational talent is for now unknown, but after 14 fights, has he really done enough to justify the hoopla surrounding him?

Two sanctioning bodies already have him as their No. 1 contender, which, even when one considers Itauma’s exceptionally impressive form, can only be justified by his potential and not his achievements. After all, his two best victories – over Jermaine Franklin and Dillian Whyte – came against fighters who were not exactly world-beaters themselves. Franklin, though indeed crafty and durable, had lost to Anthony Joshua and Whyte in recent years, and Whyte, though once a leading contender, had not been the same since a 2022 thrashing at the hands of Tyson Fury.

Throw in Itauma’s wins, and manner of them, over Demsey McKean and Mariusz Wach – the only other names on his record of real note – and you certainly have a 21-year-old overflowing with promise. But how does Itauma’s progress and reputation compare with 14-0 heavyweights from the past who, to varying degrees, went on to achieve what is expected from Itauma? 

Cassius Clay, 14-0 (11 KOs), 21 years old

Before he became Muhammad Ali, Cassius Clay was a young braggart making bold promises of world domination. Of his first 14 bouts, eight had been scheduled for 10 rounds (compared to Itauma’s five), and it can be argued he fought tougher opposition.

Taken the full 10 by Duke Sabedong and Alonzo Johnson, he had also beaten respected foes like Willi Besmanoff, Sonny Banks, George Logan and, in his 14th contest, the unbeaten Billy Daniels. 

But there were arguably more doubts about Clay’s future back in 1962 than there are about Itauma’s 64 years later. The “Louisville Lip” had been floored by Banks and, when the fearsome Sonny Liston feasted on Floyd Patterson to claim the title later that year, few believed Clay would be the man to tame him.

Mike Tyson, 14-0 (14 KOs), 19 years old 

Itauma has long been compared to Tyson, largely because the Briton declared – upon turning pro – that he could beat Tyson’s record and become the youngest heavyweight titlist in history.

Tyson moved exceptionally quickly, but after his 14 fights and single year in the professional code, the world had yet to be truly introduced to “Iron Mike.”

In his first 14 bouts, only two were scheduled for 10 rounds. And though Tyson effortlessly destroyed boxers like Donnie Long, Eddie Richardson, Conroy Nelson and Sammy Scaff, he had yet to defeat anyone approaching world level. Still to come was his breakneck 1986 campaign, when he made believers out of us all.

But when 14-0, Tyson was not universally perceived as the champion-in-waiting that Itauma is today.

Joe Louis, 14-0 (11 KOs), 20 years old

Louis in the 1930s was quickly recognized for his power and finesse. But after 14 fights, he had yet to obliterate former champions Primo Carnera and Max Baer, two victories that convinced the boxing world he would soon rule it.

That’s not to say there wasn’t a buzz surrounding young Louis as he cruised through his debut year (1934) with style. Grantland Rice, a respected sportswriter of the era, described Louis as a “brown cobra” with the “speed of the jungle.” Fellow journalist Bob Soderman, of the Chicago Tribune, was another who was quick to note the prowess of America’s Louis as he chewed through fighters like Jack O’Dowd, Charley Massera and Lee Ramage. 

But in the absence of the internet – and, in turn, hype-breeding platforms like YouTube – the public at large could only take the writers’ words for it at the start.

Anthony Joshua, 14-0 (14 KOs), 25 years old

We’re not necessarily suggesting Joshua is as “great” as the names above, but he’s a worthwhile inclusion given his rise, certainly unlike those of Ali, Louis and Tyson, came at a time comparable to the current day.

Joshua, when 14-0, was surely the most exciting heavyweight to come along since Tyson. He was also one of the most “visible” of all heavyweights with each of his bouts – from his crowning moment in the 2012 Olympics and beyond – coming on big televised events. The noise was difficult to ignore.

Yet Itauma is likely more advanced. Joshua’s best wins came over the unproven Gary Cornish and the fading Kevin Johnson and Michael Sprott. Interestingly, however, Joshua would win his first world belt just two fights later, when he marmalized Charles Martin to take the IBF belt. 

Tyson Fury, 14-0 (10 KOs), 22 years old

Another one thrown in for some modern context, but in terms of expectation after 14 fights, Fury is some way below the others listed here – and Itauma. Fury was highly regarded, of course, but at a time when the Klitschko brothers had a stranglehold on the division, the spidery Fury was not thought to be the man to break it. 

Though Fury’s ability was clear, plenty doubted how far he could possibly go. He just seemed too clumsy up close and too easy to hit. There were jokes at his expense, too, not least when he whacked himself in the face in a bout with Lee Swaby.

He had been matched competitively, though. In fact, his eighth bout suggested he might be being matched too competitively when he was beyond lucky to get the nod over John McDermott after a 10-round battle for the English championship. He would win the rematch, but 14 fights into his career (he would beat Derek Chisora for the British title in his 15th), his reputation as a world-class fighter was still several years from being formed.

Matt Christie, a lifelong fight fan, has worked in boxing for more than 20 years. He left Boxing News in 2024 after 14 years, nine of which were spent as editor-in-chief. Before that, he was the producer of weekly boxing show “KOTV.” Now the co-host of ”The Opening Bell” podcast and regularly used by Sky Sports in the UK as a pundit, Matt was named as the Specialist Correspondent of the Year at the prestigious Sports Journalism Awards in 2021, which was the seventh SJA Award he accepted during his stint in the hot seat at Boxing News. The following year, he was inducted into the British Boxing Hall of Fame. He is a member of the BWAA and has been honored several times in their annual writing awards.

 

Mexican Francisco Rodriguez Jnr has been banned from all World Anti-Doping Code-compliant sport for two years, following Anti-Doping Rule Violations (ADRVs) for the presence and use of prohibited substances.

On June 21 2025, UK Anti-Doping (UKAD) collected a urine Sample from Rodriguez, after his bout against Galal Yafai at the bp pulse LIVE arena, Birmingham. The contest was a punishing one for Yafai, who took a lot of punishment before losing his WBC interim flyweight title and unbeaten record after 12 rounds.

Analysis of Rodriguez Jnr’s sample returned Adverse Analytical Findings (AAFs) for the prohibited substances octodrine and its metabolite, heptaminol, in addition to an AAF for oxilofrine.

Octodrine, heptaminol and oxilofrine are specified substances, prohibited in-competition only.  

UKAD notified Rodriguez Jnr of his Adverse Analytical Findings (AAFs) and imposed a provisional suspension. Having received no response to the notice, UKAD subsequently charged Rodriguez with both ADRVs. The fighter provided UKAD with no response to the charge, despite multiple efforts to contact the boxer across various channels. 

UKAD did not assert that the ADRVs were intentional and imposed a two-year period of Ineligibility.

Rodriguez Jnr’s ban is deemed to have begun on 30 July 2025 (the date of the provisional suspension) and will expire at 11:59pm on 29 July 2027.

His victory over Yafai is now automatically disqualified.

 

It had been more than a year since Keith Thurman – 37 years old and a veteran of 32 previous professional fights – stepped into a ring for a prizefight, and he was grateful to have been there.

But that was where the gratitude ended.

Thurman, 31-2 (23 KOs), a former welterweight belt holder, challenged junior middleweight titlist Sebastian Fundora on Saturday at MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas and was battered in a sixth-round stoppage loss.

It had been nearly a decade since Thurman won a split decision over Danny Garcia to capture a 147lbs belt at Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York, and it had been more than three years since Thurman ended a two-and-a-half-year layoff on the heels of his only other career defeat, to Manny Pacquiao in another split decision.

An argument could be made that Thurman, after having been through his share of wars at boxing’s highest levels, deserved to sort things out between the ropes against Fundora on his own terms. Another argument says that, given Thurman's age and the pillar-to-post beating he was taking Saturday, he needed to be spared from his own worst instincts.

Thurman – despite the copious bruising, cuts and swelling splashed across his face in a postfight interview – rejected the first argument.

“First off, it was just a great fight,” he said. “Thank God. Man, it's beautiful: boxing, big stage – it felt good to be on that stage once again. Fundora is a tremendous champion. But whoever the fuck that referee was, don't hire him for main event shit ever again, man – real talk.”

The referee in question – Thomas Taylor, objectively considered one of boxing’s best – stepped in with 1 minute and 17 seconds remaining in the sixth round to wave off the fight after Thurman absorbed roughly a dozen unanswered blows as Fundora stalked him around the ring.

Thurman – a respectable contender who has fought Robert Guerrero, Shawn Porter, Josesito Lopez and Mario Barrios, in addition to Garcia, Pacquiao and others, over a 19-year pro career – thought he had earned the right to fight through adversity against Fundora.

“Do you remember Eric Morales versus Marcos Maidana?” he said. “Do you remember how many times people fought with broken orbital bones? It's just not even broken, man. I never got dropped in the whole fight. I'm getting caught on the back end of punches.”

Although Thurman wasn’t wrong in his assessment, he was inarguably rocked in the fifth by a Fundora left hand that dramatically buckled his knees and very nearly sent him to the canvas. Fundora, 24-1 (16 KOs), whose 6ft 6ins height and length was an unsolvable puzzle for Thurman all evening, was increasingly having his way in the round – and carried his bruising dominance into the sixth.

How did Thurman stay up?!? #FundoraThurman#FundoraThurman | ORDER NOW 👉 https://t.co/7XE5Vvp84m pic.twitter.com/WpAUSz6IMG

— Premier Boxing Champions (@premierboxing) March 29, 2026

“The referee told me in the locker room, ‘Show me something, move your feet, duck your head, I won't stop the fight,’” Thurman said. “I'm using my legs. I'm getting caught on the back end of punches. I wasn't buckled. He just jumped in like a white rabbit, man.

“The fight was just getting fun! The people were standing on their feet. We were just getting into the grind, you know? And [Fundora] was getting really comfortable swinging wide, swinging big, swinging wide. Because he's young, because he trains hard, he put that press – because he's a volume puncher – he put that press [on], and the referee reacted to that.”

The defense was roughly as effective as that of Thurman in the ring against Fundora, who was praised by his opponent. A defeat is never easy to confront for a fighter who has won so often as Thurman, and clarity may be even more elusive when facing one’s career mortality – though Thurman wasn’t ready to go down that road.

“As an O.G., man, four more minutes, it would have been a lot of fun, I promise you,” Thurman said. “Four more minutes, and he could have made a mistake right in front of me. Man, I was waiting for it. I knew it was going to be one of these kinds of tough fights against a young champion, and I had a long-term vision. But the ref didn't let me get that, man. So it was unfortunate. But I'm grateful, you know, I'm OK. I'm able to talk to you guys. I don't need to be in the hospital. Everything is what it is.

“I'll be back, man. I want to do great things in boxing once again. And I’m gonna come back harder, and I’m gonna come back stronger.”

Jason Langendorf is the former Boxing Editor of ESPN.com, was a contributor to Ringside Seat and the Queensberry Rules, and has written about boxing for Vice, The Guardian, Sun-Times and other publications. A member of the Boxing Writers Association of America, he can be found at LinkedIn and followed on X and Bluesky.

MANCHESTER, England – The shackles are off Moses Itauma after his impressive fifth-round finish of Jermaine Franklin, and promoter Frank Warren is already plotting what’s next.

The 14-0 (12 KOs) Itauma, a heavyweight from Chatham, Kent, made light work of the usually durable American Franklin, landing a crunching left uppercut in Round 5 to end proceedings. Itauma, just 21 years old, became the first man to stop Franklin, something his compatriots Anthony Joshua and Dillian Whyte failed to do. It now seems there is no point in holding the youngster back any longer. Itauma has proved that he has the speed, power and precision to mix it with the very best in the division. Oleksandr Usyk currently rates as the heavyweight king, but after Itauma’s showing last night at Manchester’s Co-op Live, many believe that he could be the one to dethrone Ukraine’s Usyk. 24-0.

It seems, however, that Usyk, the unified heavyweight champion, has no plans to face the 21-year-old Itauma. Usyk recently stated that he plans to have three more fights, starting with kickboxing great Rico Verhoeven in May. His plans did not include Itauma. However, Usyk may have no choice, as Itauma currently sits in pole position for Usyk’s WBA belt and will eventually be ordered to fight for it.

“Well, I like Oleksandr Usyk; when you look at him and look at the belts he's got, you look at his resume,” said Warren. “He's fighting a kickboxer [Rico Verhoeven in May at the Pyramids of Giza] next for money – good luck to him. But he wants the big fights; that's what he's saying – he wants big fights. Do you not think we'd sell Wembley Stadium out with Moses Itauma and Usyk? You'd sell it out five or six times over, right this minute – right this minute. And the pay-per-view, the viewing figures would go through the roof. I really think that's a fight that should happen, and it may get ordered.

“I'm sort of very careful with what I do with fighters, as you know. But, yes, I would make that fight now. Styles makes fights. [Itauma’s] got youth, he's got speed. I mean, Usyk is a great, great fighter. I think this young man is something extra special. At this moment in time, he's the best I've been involved with at heavyweight, bar none.” 

Tom Ivers is a lifelong fight fan and former amateur boxer who has a master’s degree in sports journalism. Tom joined BoxingScene in 2024 and is now a key part of the UK and social media teams.

Hours before the clocks went forward in Great Britain, Moses Itauma, the Gen Z heavyweight deemed boxing’s Next Big Thing, gave us a glimpse of the future by way of a five-round demolition of Jermaine Franklin. It was a fight not only timed to perfection, as far as Itauma’s progression is concerned, but one Itauma would finish with a beautifully-timed left uppercut to the point of Franklin’s chin. It was also a fight that came at a time when every other heavyweight around Itauma appears to be trying to slow down the passing of time and roll back the clock rather than push it forward and show us where the division is heading. 

In that respect, Itauma’s victory over Franklin last night in Manchester could be as important as any other heavyweight win this year. It is certainly more important than whatever Tyson Fury does with Arslanbek Makhmudov on April 11, or whatever Oleksandr Usyk does with kickboxer Rico Verhoeven in May. Because while those two fights indicate a slowing down or, at best, a desire to stall, everything about Itauma right now suggests the complete opposite. One look at Itauma and you see only urgency and ambition. This is true of his matchmaking, which has been aggressive from the start, as well as his performances in the ring. Still just 21, he can afford to bide his time, yet Itauma shows no signs of waiting his turn. 

In fact, Franklin, a heavyweight never previously stopped, was dragged in to fight him for the sole purpose of keeping Itauma in check and slowing him down against his will. The hope, in choosing someone like Franklin, was that Itauma would have to take his time and perhaps even go a few rounds; something all-important in the learning process. 

The problem is, no sooner had last night’s fight begun than it became apparent Itauma himself had other ideas. Even if he knew the importance of getting rounds and biding his time, Itauma, like any 21-year-old, has particular urges and needs. Not just that, the Itauma body works on instinct and that instinct is to do damage and get it done quickly. Against Franklin last night, that meant starting typically fast and immediately knocking him off balance with a right hook from his southpaw stance. It then meant busting Franklin up with right jabs, which he threw with middleweight speed, and showcasing a neat left cross-right hook combination which also brought him plenty of success as the bout progressed. 

Already, as early as round one, Franklin cut an uncharacteristically anxious figure. His posture was relaxed, true of all his fights, but his face carried a look of concern, presumably due to the speed of the punches coming his way. The first right hook may have only knocked him off balance, but another thrown later in the round, following a left cross, buckled Franklin’s legs and caused him to sag into the ropes. 

That, for Franklin, was just a sample. In the next round, round two, more Itauma jabs were snapping back Franklin’s head and a left cross nailed him clean in the centre of the ring. Even more impressive than that were the left crosses Itauma directed at the American’s midsection, each used to keep Franklin guessing and leave him unable to predict where Itauma’s attacks would be aimed. Before long, Franklin was being tagged to the body and then head by Itauma’s left cross, having defended high when he should have defended low, and vice versa. 

The variety on display was something to behold. It would be impressive enough if a welterweight was piecing together the combinations Itauma was launching at Franklin last night, let alone a 6'4" heavyweight. In round three alone the Brit threw the following: a left cross-right hook combination to the head, a left cross to the head-right hook to the body, and a left cross to the body-right hook upstairs. Each combination was sharp, imaginative, and purposeful. These, make no mistake, were not taps, or merely an attempt to dazzle the ringside judges. They were instead punches thrown hard and designed only to hurt Franklin, weaken Franklin, and ultimately break Franklin’s resistance. 

In the third round Itauma came close to doing just that when a right hook over the top caught Franklin high on the head and led to him collapsing in the corner. He did, though, manage to get to his feet with 15 seconds remaining in the round. Better yet, he let go with a right hand of his own on the bell just to remind Itauma that, despite the one-way traffic, there were still two professional heavyweights in the ring. 

That may be true, but at no point were these two professional heavyweights ever operating either at the same speed or indeed on the same level. In fact, even when Franklin had brief moments of success, as he did in round four, Itauma would greet these moments with a wry smile, as though he were the 32-year-old heavyweight, and not Franklin. When, for example, Franklin poked Itauma’s stomach with a couple of right hands, there was a sense that Itauma appreciated the effort, if only because it made him have to tighten up and refocus. Lo and behold, it wasn’t long before the smiling southpaw then returned fire with a vicious left cross and backed Franklin into a corner. 

Meanwhile, in his own corner between rounds, Franklin was soon expressing concern about Itauma’s speed. He was, it seemed, struggling to come up with ideas as to how he might be able to counteract it and his training team, granted the luxury of only watching, were no more confident or insightful.

Such is Itauma’s speed, his power, already considerable, is doubled on impact. You could see evidence of this whenever he surprised Franklin with that check right hook of his, or whenever he led with a left cross from out of nowhere. You also saw the raw power Itauma possesses in moments when he was a little more obvious with his shot selection and resorted to simply whacking Franklin with big left hands around the side of his guard. These shots, even if they landed on gloves, had a way of budging Franklin; something all the more shocking given Franklin’s reputation for durability. He felt the shots, clearly, and the only ones worse than the ones landing on his gloves and arms were the ones for which he had no time to prepare.

The left uppercut in round five, for instance, was a punch neither Franklin nor anyone else saw coming. All we, as observers, got to see was both its impact – devastating – and how Franklin’s eyes became crossed as the punch caught the very tip of his chin. Those eyes of his stayed crossed for as long as he remained upright, which was not very long, and not until he hit the canvas and regained his ability to see and think did Franklin himself understand what had just hit him. By then, it was too late. It was too late to prevent the referee Steve Gray from rescuing him and it was too late to turn back the clock even a few seconds. 

Just like that, it had passed him by. He had been left behind. Suddenly, to Franklin, 32 had never felt so old. Suddenly, for all his courage, he realised the same thing so many other heavyweights in their 30s are starting to realise. He realised that when they say Moses Itauma is the future, they are referencing the damage he is doing in the present. 

“I tried to knock him out in the first and second round to win some people some dough [money],” said Itauma, now 14-0 (12 KOs), after the fight. “But I thought, Maybe not today. So I went back to the basics – go down to the body – and then the knockout just came. It’s not the shots you load up with. It’s the shots you don’t see.”

With a shot a fighter cannot see, it is hard, almost impossible, for them to brace for impact, never mind choose the right defensive move to avoid it. 

A similar thing could now be said of Moses Itauma and the difficulty future opponents will have figuring ways to simply take him rounds. The only difference, perhaps, is that this 21-year-old is no longer a surprise package or a future threat the current crop can for the time being put out of their mind. He is instead now the threat that everybody sees coming; the immediate threat. By stopping Jermaine Franklin the way he did, Itauma’s clock jumped forward last night. He is, for the heavyweight division, now a premature alarm: loud, jarring, obnoxious. It’s time to wake up.

LAS VEGAS – Too long, too strong, too much.

Sebastian Fundora, the 6ft 6ins WBC 154lbs titleholder, fulfilled his “Towering Inferno” nickname Saturday night, making the third successful defense of his belt with a sixth-round TKO of former unified welterweight champion Keith Thurman at MGM Grand.

Fundora, 24-1-1 (16 KOs), blasted a hard left hand to Thurman’s head after the challenger was inspected by a ringside physician between rounds, and referee Thomas Taylor saw enough, ending the bout at the 1-minute, 17-second mark.  

Making full use of his 11ins reach advantage, Fundora pounded the 37-year-old Thurman with whipping lefts throughout the bout. And so it was appropriate that’s how he ended things.

Fundora said the inspiration for that kind of blow originated from an Instagram post headlined, “Fly Bird, Fly,” that told of how “birds use their whole wings to fly.” 

Thurman, 31-2, whose only other career loss is to Manny Pacquiao, couldn’t solve the physical disadvantage.

Fundora opened his title defense by smacking Thurman in the face with an early left, keeping the former champion at bay with his jab and effective defense.

Fundora buckled Thurman’s legs with a left hand after Thurman tried ducking in for a body shot. Although Thurman tended to the body, Fundora’s activity proved more effective.

Thurman had to work so hard to penetrate Fundora’s reach advantage that he was exposed to scoring lefts in the third.

Finding his range, Fundora stuck lefts to the jaw while whipping in a later head shot in the fourth, adding a combination that kept Thurman in a tentative mood.

The action intensified in the fifth, with Thurman sneaking in two shard rights. But Fundora dished out the damage of several combinations that shook Thurman with whipping lefts and painful combinations that widened the disparity.

“We worked very hard for this fight. I’ve always looked up to Keith Thurnan, who I see as a Hall of Famer, for sure,” Fundora said. “All respect to him. I had to work to prove [I was better than] him, and prove it to the world.

“I reminded him, you’re in my world now.”

Fundora spoke of the benefits of hardened training camps led by his trainer-father Freddy Fundora and including undisputed flyweight champion and sister Gabriela Fundora.

In a division that counts many elite fighters, including Xander Zayas, Jaron “Boots” Ennis, Vergil Ortiz Jnr and Premier Boxing Champions veterans Jermell Charlo and Errol Spence Jnr, Fundora said he’s trained to “fight anyone.”

“It’s the best division right now,” he said. “I’ll fight anybody.”

Lance Pugmire is BoxingScene’s senior U.S. writer and an assistant producer for ProBox TV. Pugmire has covered boxing since the early 2000s, first at the Los Angeles Times and then at The Athletic and USA Today. He won the Boxing Writers’ Association of America’s Nat Fleischer Award in 2022 for career excellence.

MANCHESTER, England – Moses Itauma passed his toughest test with flying colours, brutally knocking out Jermaine Franklin inside five rounds at Manchester’s Co-op Live.

The experienced and durable Franklin had been brought in with the hope that he would give the hard-hitting Itauma rounds. The 21-year-old had looked frightening in his previous three contests, finishing Demsey McKean, Mike Balogun and Dillian Whyte early with his vicious left hand. The travelling American had taken both Anthony Joshua and Dillian Whyte the distance in his only two prior defeats, but Itauma was too much. Far too much.

The Briton was spiteful from the off and showed composure when it looked like his tricky foe might last longer than Itauma's previous rivals. In the end, Itauma found the shot to end things, smashing a left uppercut into Franklin’s chin, following with another blow to compound the discombobulation, and sending the American face first into the canvas at 1-33 of Round 5.

“I’m happy to get the win, the Lord is good. Manchester is where I won my first national title and seven years later I’m back here beating Jermaine Franklin – who has been beaten by some great heavyweights,” said Itauma post-fight. “I tried to knock him out in the first and second rounds, but I thought, ‘Ahh maybe not today,’ so I went back to basics and the knockout came.”

The now 14-0 (12 KOs) Itauma sits in pole position with two of the sanctioning bodies and his promoter, Frank Warren of Queensberry Promotions, believes his prized youngster is nearing his shot.

“[His next fight] will be in July,” said Warren when asked what’s next. “He’s No.1 in WBO, No.1 in WBA. There’s a lot of things happening right now, but we will sort something out. It will be a big, big fight, because he’s a big, big fighter. I’m pretty confident he’ll fight for a world title soon.”

Itauma admitted he had his eyes on another durable foe for his next outing in July.

“I thought I was able to win titles, man, but I didn't think it would be this soon,” Itauma said. “I’m just a young boy chasing his dream. I wanted the [Filip] Hrgovic fight [next]. but he’s boxing Dave Allen. I don’t know, we’ll go back to the drawing boards and get someone new soon.”

Itauma, of Chatham, Kent, wasted no time from the opening bell, instantly pressing Franklin against the ropes with his fast feet and unleashing on his foe. Franklin, 32 and from Saginaw, Michigan, was desperately trying to cover up, but Itauma was finding room for shots around the American’s arms. A well-placed left hand buckled Franklin’s legs late into the session, but Franklin used his experience to survive.

Itauma didn’t have it all his own way, though, and in the second Franklin started to let his hands go. Franklin caught Itauma with a short right hand that sprayed sweat off the youngster's hair. Itauma didn’t take too kindly to it and instantly smashed his left hand into Franklin’s face. The shot certainly hurt the American, but Franklin stuck his tongue out and fired one back.

Itauma made the first real dent in Franklin late into the third, when a short right hand to the top of the head sent Franklin tumbling down. It looked like Itauma was just one punch away, but Franklin fought back with a right hand to turn the tide. The fourth began and Itauma started to take his time, almost toying with Franklin before landing his lead right hand. Itauma was dazzling Franklin, jabbing away at him before placing his shots into the American’s fleshy midsection.

Itauma switched his attacks to the head midway through the fifth and it was curtains for the usually tough Franklin. Neither Joshua nor Whyte had managed to get the America to touch the canvas, but a left uppercut from Itauma sent Franklin stumbling to the floor. A hard right on the way down from Itauma sent Franklin falling face first, with Steve Gray waving the contest off before the American even hit the floor. Itauma seemed unfazed by his knockout win, he waved to the crowd with the same composure as he did when entering the ring.

Tougher tests lie ahead for Itauma, but he is certainly the most exciting prospect in the entire sport.

Franklin fell to 24-3 (15 KOs) after the first stoppage defeat of his career.

 

LAS VEGAS – When referee Thomas Taylor stepped into the boxing ring at 70,000-seat Allegiant Stadium with Canelo Alvarez and Terence Crawford to witness the raucous NFL venue glowing in flashing lights, he recalled the years-ago advice of a mentor.

“When you get in there tonight, it’s going to be packed. People are going to be cheering. Everything’s going to be nuts. Just take a look around. Soak it all in. Realize just how lucky we are to be doing what we’re doing.”

At 55, Southern California’s Taylor stands at the pinnacle of his career, having worked 65 world-championship fights, 122 title bouts and 830 fights total since his 2010 debut.

The Wisconsin-raised Taylor becomes the third man in the ring for another pay-per-view main event Saturday night at MGM Grand, when he referees the WBC junior-middleweight title fight between champion Sebastian Fundora, 23-1-1 (15 KOs), and Keith Thurman, 31-1 (23 KOs).

Taylor’s rise has been particularly meteoric since he landed the 2023 main event pitting Gervonta “Tank” Davis versus Ryan Garcia in Las Vegas.

The event not only marked his debut for the Nevada Athletic Commission, but it opened doors that led him to assignments in New York, Saudi Arabia, and even next month’s upcoming Amazon Prime Video reboot of “American Gladiators.”

Over the past 18 months, Taylor has worked the undisputed light-heavyweight title bout between Artur Beterbiev and Dmitry Bivol, a light-heavyweight bout between unbeatens David Benavidez and David Morrell, Manny Pacquiao-Mario Barrios, Crawford-Alvarez and last month’s Ryan Garcia welterweight title victory over Barrios.

“I looked at that list recently and thought, ‘This could’ve been one guy’s career.’ I’m so lucky, so blessed,” Taylor said. “I worked Garcia’s first amateur title. He comes up to me and says, ‘My name is Ryan Garcia and you should remember me.’

“You talk about full circle.”

Taylor, who maintains a full-time career as a private lender’s loan officer, deeply embraces that “full-circle” mentality of refereeing.

The next event he worked after Crawford-Canelo was a series of four-round fights at a 250-seat high-school gym.

One night, he’s watching Crawford emotionally dropping to his knees as the victorious scorecards are read, telling the five-division champion in a powerful photographed moment, “Take your time, thank Him for everything He’s given you, and when you’re ready, let’s get you up and get your hand raised,” in what’s likely Crawford’s final bout.

The next, he’s at that local gym.

“The four-round fight was just as big to that kid as Canelo-Crawford was to those guys,” Taylor said.

Before Saturday’s card, Taylor spent last weekend working a club show at Thunder Studios in Long Beach, California, followed by a “Team Boxing” competition of 24 one-round bouts. 

Taylor has even staffed men’s and women’s pillow fights.

His willingness to work anything has made him everything.

His penchant to converse about boxing daily with a network of veteran officials including Jack Reiss and Pat Russell while adhering to routines that prompt him to kiddingly label himself “sick,” have led him here through fateful steps.

The first was a childhood friend’s invitation to go swimming at an indoor pool at the Wisconsin Athletic Club. Taylor, then 9, entered the premises and stumbled upon a club boxing show that was transpiring at the venue. He was affixed, leading the son among eight siblings to watch boxing on television religiously.

While the other kids were drawn to Pac-Man and Centipede at the local arcade, Taylor played the lightly used boxing video game.

At 23, Taylor moved to California, and in 2009, he earned a referee license from the California State Athletic Commission, where a veteran commission employee encouraged him to attend an officiating clinic.

Accidentally enrolled in a continuation class for veteran referees, Taylor met the man who would become his mentor, David Mendoza, and absorbed invaluable direction.

“I still have my notepad from that day … while [Mendoza] pointed me to the amateurs, it was all very cut and dry: Rules, rules, rules, and the sentence I underlined three times was ‘Keep your mouth shut.’ You’re not going to learn this sport overnight. Learn and listen,” Taylor said.

It was a “phenomenal base on rules, regulations, mechanics,” Taylor said, as he dedicated free time to stepping into pro sparring sessions at TKO Gym in Santa Ana, California.

Taylor moved fast from timekeeping in 2006 to chief of officials for California Golden Gloves while getting a glimpse of the expected deliberate process of officiating.

“A judge told me in the amateurs, ‘You’ll timekeep for three-four years, then you’ll be judging for another three-four years, and then around year eight-nine, we’ll start working you in,’” Taylor recalled. “I’m sitting back, biting my tongue, thinking, ‘You have no fricking clue the path I’m taking and how I’m going to get there, and you’re not telling me the path I’m going to take.’ I did my own thing. No one was going to stop me.”

So enthused for his first pro fight at the Doubletree Hotel in Ontario, California, Taylor arrived four hours early. He remembered Mendoza telling him to eat something light before the fights, and since no one was inside the convention room yet, he found a restaurant and ordered a BLT sandwich, french fries and a Diet Coke.

Russell, the senior official that night, praised Taylor’s two stoppages as “perfect … the movement … if I didn’t know it, I’d say you’ve been reffing for six-seven years.”

Taylor’s confidence soared, and he reasoned, “Ok, every event, I’ve gotta have my BLT, my Diet Coke and my fries – but chips will do.”

He’s nearing 900 BLTs.

The only crisis in the routine occurred in Saudi Arabia, which forbids pork consumption on religious grounds.

Taylor sought an alternative to smuggling bacon into the country, and a cook devised a plan to shave meat in the appearance of bacon atop the sandwich with lettuce and tomato.

And Beterbiev-Bivol I went off without a hitch.

The routine is so frequent that the staff at the Subway at the bottom of MGM Grand know Taylor’s order as he approaches the counter.

Similarly, he requires to snack on two handfuls of M&Ms before and during his fights. He brings a hearty bag to ringside, sharing with others.

“It’s not for any extra sugar energy. It’s purely superstition,” Taylor said.

You can’t argue with the results.

One night near his home at the Orange County Fairgrounds, Taylor was refereeing a fight with CSAC Executive Officer Andy Foster sitting ringside.

A fighter got knocked out falling backward. Instead of letting him crash backward, where it appeared his neck would strike the second rope and whip violently, Taylor – who rises each morning for a 3 a.m. workout at 24-Hour Fitness – caught the falling fighter, cradled him, and set him down on the canvas, waving the fight over.

Foster was so impressed, he stopped Taylor’s near 50-50 assignments as a referee and judge, and effectively made him the state’s No. 1 referee.

“He doesn’t make the fight about him,” Foster said of Taylor. “He stays out of the way, enforces the rules, and you forget he’s in there. That’s a gift.”

The glamour fights in Las Vegas came to Taylor as veteran referees Kenny Bayless and Tony Weeks moved to the close of their referee careers.

Nevada commission head Jeff Mullen asked Taylor of his interest in working Las Vegas fights, and invited him to a Zoom call with the state’s other officials to – unknowingly to Taylor – introduce him as the Davis-Garcia referee.

Before the announcement came, Taylor texted Mullen and apologized, saying he had to exit the room so he could go pick up his son, Sebastian, at high school.

When Mullen and others were so pleased with Taylor’s work in that bout, they asked him to return for the Vasily Lomachenko-Devin Haney lightweight title fight.

Taylor had to say no. It was Sebastian’s 16th birthday party, and reservations had already been made.

“One thing I’ve never done is miss my son’s birthday or first day of school or a graduation,” said Taylor, reducing his potential world-title bout list by five bouts. ”He’s my one and only.”

Taylor’s quest for perfection is sincere, but this being boxing, even he has strayed into controversy.

One of those bouts was Elwin Soto’s 12th-round knockout of Angel Acosta to capture the WBO light-flyweight title. With Acosta leading on all three scorecards, Soto clocked him with a big punch, prompting Acosta to freeze.

“As Soto comes in to rip his head off, I jump in to stop him and everyone goes crazy: ‘This is the champion, you’ve got to let him stop him!’” Taylor recalls hearing.

Acosta and his father would sneer at Taylor upon each meeting for more than two years before the referee sought to clear the air, telling Acosta’s father, “We can debate [if I should’ve let Soto throw] another punch or two. What we can’t debate is if I had let it go, and your son can no longer take care of himself. I slept well that night, knowing I protected your son.” 

Acosta went on to participate in eight more bouts, meeting two world champions.

Taylor said the episode is a stark reminder of why referees have to remain engaged in the sport. “Work’s a great thing,” he said. “It keeps you sharp. 

“In the NFL, the guy up in the booth off a hard hit will order the player into the [medical] tent,” Taylor said. “In our sport, we’ve got eight to 10 seconds to tell if a guy’s concussed, and if he can take care of himself. You have to have good judgment. When you’re not working, you better be studying.”

Movement, positioning, staying out of the way are Taylor’s strengths.

“I let fighters fight. First thing I tell fighters is, ‘If you guys get wrapped up, I might give you the chance to break on your own. Pull your arm out. Let his arm go. Hands are free. Work out of it. It isn’t until I say stop that I need you to stop punching,’” he said.

“Otherwise, it gets boring, I’m in every frame. One of the nicest things I hear from the camera crews is that my nickname is, ‘Mr. Invisible.’”

The anonymity element of his high-profile work extended to his interview with an “American Gladiators” producer, who asked him, “Have you done anything on TV?”

Somewhat sheepishly, he explained yes.

The series, which was filmed in France over three weeks, features the classic events like “Breakthrough” and “Hanging Tough” as the gladiators compete to stop athletic contestants from completing obstacle events.

Taylor has already made a distinct impression. Dressed in a black-and-white-striped shirt, he orders the competition to start with a phrase he dreamed up himself: “Gladiators, Ready?! Contenders, Ready?! 3-2-1, go!”

He’s also asserted his voice into the Association of Boxing Commissions’ rule book that functions as an ever-updated “working document.”

One Taylor-advocated change is replacing the instruction “break,” which can be misinterpreted by non-English-speaking fighters, to “stop,” with the pre-fight instruction to stop punching, protect yourself at all times and take a full step back.

The other is to dry-wipe a fallen-out mouthpiece, insert it properly into the mouth and resume the fight quickly, rather than allowing such an event to become a stalling tactic.

Wearing a black T-shirt imprinted with the phrase, “Greatness is Within,” Taylor spoke to BoxingScene in between bites of a protein-heavy Carne Asada-shrimp bowl at a Newport Beach, California, taco shack, “GreatMex.”

The staff know him and his order well, of course, because routine is such a prominent part of his life.

On Saturdays, he says friends and associates fully understand not to call or text him. He vows there’s no consideration to “A” or “B” side status among the fighters, only a neutral treatment of boxers from the red and blue corners.

“You don’t have to be a boxer to have that love for the sport,” he said.

Asked what that compassion is connected to, Taylor’s eyes welled with tears as he considered the deep meaning of the event, for a beginner and a veteran champion.

“It’s two guys who’ve spent time away from their family. They’re training. They put in all this time, from their nutrition to their mental preparation, knowing the punches they have to take,” he said.

“They get into this ring and it’s you versus me. I need to break your will before you break my will, or I need to take you to a point where you cannot continue.

“It’s not done with knees, feet, whatever. It’s done with style, with speed. It’s done with knowledge and with toughness. Two guys just going at it, saying, ‘I want this more than you. May the best man win. I’ve got no teammates to blame. Only myself. Let it happen.’

“That is the ultimate. It’s beautiful. It’s amazing. It’s art.”

 

MANCHESTER, England – The meteoric rise of young heavyweight Moses Itauma since he turned professional just three years ago has drawn comparisons to Mike Tyson's early-career arc.

It’s not hard to see why. The 13-0 Itauma has 11 knockouts to his name and has a habit of getting his foes out of there quickly and violently, much like “Iron” Mike did during his heyday. In fact, Itauma only managed 5 minutes and 45 seconds of in-ring action last year after blasting through opponents Mike Balogun and Dillian Whyte. That has led to his promoter, Frank Warren, drafting in Jermaine Franklin in hopes of giving Itauma rounds this Saturday at Manchester’s Co-op Live.

Perhaps the most striking comparison between the 21-year-old Itauma and Tyson is their success at such a young age. Professional boxing is a man’s game, which makes it impressive that Itauma is already being considered the heir to Oleksandr Usyk’s throne, and even fancied by some to become the one to blemish the Ukrainian’s perfect 24-0 record. Tyson was, and still is, the heavyweight division’s youngest-ever champion, defeating Trevor Berbick in 1986 at just 20 years old. Itauma set out to break Tyson’s record but fell short when he turned 21 in December. The comparisons still continue.

“I like it and I don't, because obviously it's great to be compared to such a legend in the sport, but I feel like the comparison is success at a young age,” Itauma told BoxingScene and other reporters. “Apart from that, there's not really much to say that we're very similar. I guess we're kind of polar opposite. I guess we both just love knockouts.”

How does Moses Itauma compare to Mike Tyson when they were the same age?🤔

Itauma faces his toughest test this Saturday in Jermaine Franklin!🇺🇸

Another KO incoming?💥🥊 pic.twitter.com/Ztthz3kp7w

— BoxingScene.com (@boxingscene) March 25, 2026

Itauma, mature beyond his years, may be right. The comparisons largely end there. He may not yet have a belt wrapped around his waist like Tyson did at 21 – in fact Tyson held all three available by his age – but he also carries none of the chaos that came with it. Tyson was a beast in the ring, but his true struggles came outside of it.

Itauma is a stark contrast. He never gets ahead of himself and appears uninterested in the cameras and the world of social media. All he is focused on is the fight, the belts and his family.

So how does he avoid the path that consumed Tyson in his younger years?

“I think you have to have the right people around, and I feel like you need to have the difficult conversations sometimes,” said Itauma, from Chatham, Kent. “I feel like a lot of people need to have difficult conversations that they choose to avoid. It's unknown, but like I said, I know that I've got Jermaine Franklin and I know what the crack is with that, and whatever the future is, the future is, isn't it?

“I can take what I like about Mike Tyson, but it doesn't mean I have to be that person. I've always said, my blessing from being in Tyson Fury's camp was being able to speak to him and spending time around him, picking up on certain things. Like when I went to train with him in Malta and in Saudi Arabia, I had conversations that I needed to have, do you get what I mean? And it's like, when I'm obviously rubbing shoulders with Anthony Joshua [Itauma’s former stablemate] and that's more of a bigger blessing.

“With Mike Tyson, I can appreciate the career he's had. That doesn't mean I need to be like him, because I'm my own man.”

That doesn’t mean Itauma isn’t listening when the right lessons are being imparted. Not only has he sharpened his skills by sharing gyms with two of the most decorated heavyweights of the modern era in Tyson Fury and Anthony Joshua, but his mindset has developed there, too.

“The biggest lesson I've learned from Tyson Fury would probably be, to have success you need to have a little bit of not caring,” Itauma said of his time training with Fury for his two bouts with Usyk. “If you care too much then you might just miss it. From AJ, I'd probably say, you're a citizen of the world – don't tie yourself down to one entity.”

Despite once learning from Fury and Joshua, Itauma has quickly become a rival of the two Britons. Both men are in the twilight of their careers, and neither appears likely to face the young southpaw before hanging up their gloves.

“I don't feel like I need to build my career off a win,” Itauma said of the likelihood of never facing Fury or Joshua. “Like, I've headlined as a 20-year-old. I've headlined in Saudi Arabia as a 21-year-old. I'm headlining in Manchester. I'm not building my career off other people's backs, I'm actually doing it, I guess, my own way.

“I guess every fighter has had a passing-of-the-torch [moment]. Although I respect these fighters, I don't need to have their career. I don't need to be that person, I can be my own man … but I'm not too bothered like that. Tyson and AJ, they've got their own thing going on. And me, I've currently got Jermaine Franklin.

“So at the minute, I'm not really thinking about that.”

Itauma’s focus is firmly on this Saturday’s opponent. Durable and experienced, Franklin has yet to be stopped as a professional, and there is a hope he will finally drag the hard-hitting Itauma into deep waters.

“The reason why we want rounds is because the last time I went the distance was with Kevin Nicolas Espindola [in 2023],” Itauma said. “So that was my full fight in, and beating Dillian Whyte has kind of put me on a new trajectory. The first time that I'm going into the eighth round, ninth round, 10th round can't be against someone like Fabio Wardley, Daniel Dubois, Oleksandr Usyk, Agit Kabayel or whatever. I need to know what it's like to experience the latter part of fights, so that is why we've got Jermaine Franklin: He's tough, he's durable, and not only that, he comes to fight.

“So for me, this is a perfect fight. We were actually asking for the Jermaine Franklin fight for the Dillian Whyte fight. It might have been for like a year and a half that we've been asking for Jermaine Franklin. So now that we've got the fight, I'm happy. I'm pleased because now I can finally answer the questions that my team have been asking and what I've been asking of myself. I know I can do it in the gym. I've done it multiple times. But now it's about doing it under the bright lights.”

The question remains whether Itauma can take a shot. Franklin, 24-2 (15 KOs), isn’t considered one of the biggest punchers in the division, but he has enough pop to test Itauma’s chin.

“Obviously, when I was boxing [as an amateur], I was boxing with a head guard, big gloves and, until now, probably like Dillian Whyte – maybe Demsey McKean – they're the kind of only people that I guess you could say are big punchers that would be able to cause some damage,” said Itauma. “Obviously, they weren't able to land the shot. It's not my fault, so yeah, we'll see.”

The uncertainty is not something that weighs heavily on Itauma’s mind. If anything, it is part of the process – another question to be answered in time rather than something to obsess over.

“I actually never focus on the outcome of a fight, so when people are asking, ‘What do you think of the fight,’ or ‘What's your prediction?’ I genuinely don't know, because I don't even think about it. The only thing I think about is sticking to the game plan that my team has prepared and the game plan that I've been planning for 14 weeks.

“That's what's on my mind, the outcome or that it's irrelevant. It's irrelevant because boxing is all opinionated. Me and you might be watching the same fight, but we've got two different opinions. So getting a win for me, I don't really care because it's someone's opinion, whereas a knockout is a knockout.

“If I stick to the game plan and I've prepared diligently – I don't feel like there's any heavyweight that could withstand my own capability.”

If his performances match his composure, Itauma may not only shake off the comparisons to “Iron” Mike but also etch his own name into the history books.

Tom Ivers is a lifelong fight fan and former amateur boxer who has a master’s degree in sports journalism. Tom joined BoxingScene in 2024 and is now a key part of the UK and social media teams.

Sebastian Fundora is headlining a pay-per-view from the MGM Grand in Las Vegas on Saturday. He’s the A-side in the main event, a -380 favorite at FanDuel Sportsbook.

Brian Mendoza is fighting on the same PPV, but not as a headliner. He’s a B-side on the undercard, a +245 underdog at FanDuel.

And this all makes perfect sense. Of course Fundora is at the top of the card. Of course Mendoza is as mid-card as a mid-carder could be.

But try explaining any of this to a time traveler who just got here from April of 2023.

On the night Mendoza reduced Fundora from six-and-a-half feet tall to about six-and-a-half inches tall – erasing Fundora’s zero, his next-big-thing marketing and his momentum with a single three-punch combination – it would have been tough to predict that they’d later be where they are now.

Yes, three years is a long time. Yes, Fundora was only 25 at the time he got timber’d. Yes, Mendoza was something of a gatekeeper before he produced that career-best win. So I’m not saying it would have been impossible to foresee the current situation.

But it would have seemed unlikely.

And it would have seemed that way in large because this sport turns us all into prisoners of the moment.

All sports do, actually. I hear basketball podcasters declare a team dead because they had one lousy night or NFL analysts pronounce a team to be Super-Bowl-bound because they played lights out in Week 4.

But it’s more extreme in boxing because one fight often is a fighter’s entire year. And it’s more extreme in boxing because sometimes a loss isn’t represented by numbers on a scoreboard, but rather by a semi-conscious fighter flopping about on the ground as blood pours down his face.

That’s why we become such prisoners of the moment. That’s why we react the way we do.

But Fundora and Mendoza, three years on from the latter vaporizing the former, should serve as potent reminders that these reactions are often overreactions. These two junior middleweights who will stand in the same ring at different times on Saturday night exist as perfect examples of how one result in boxing does not determine your fate.

Mendoza, who next faces Yoenis Tellez, got opportunities to capitalize on his seventh-round KO of Fundora but couldn’t rise to them.

The first one came against Tim Tszyu, the key supporting character in this Fundora-Mendoza drama.

It was six months after Mendoza’s win over Fundora, and for the first half of the fight in Broadbeach, Australia, the gutsy American gave about as good as he got. Down the stretch, however, Tszyu pounded him mercilessly with right hands, nearly forcing a stoppage in the 11th before ultimately winning by wide scores.

It wasn’t a bad performance by Mendoza, by any means. At least not relative to how highly regarded Tszyu still was at the time.

But it was a momentum killer. With one grueling loss, Mendoza was right back to where he’d been coming into the Fundora fight: a gatekeeper. A fringe contender. A “tough out”. Worthy of respect, but not worthy of a promotional push.

So for his next fight, Mendoza was back to being an undercard fighter. A deep undercard fighter. A before-the-pay-per-view-starts undercard fighter. This after a late shuffling to the March 30, 2024 PBC card in Las Vegas, a situation that again involves Fundora, again involves Tszyu and also involves Keith Thurman, the opponent Fundora will be taking on on Saturday.

That event was to be headlined by Tszyu vs Thurman, but Thurman had to withdraw on 11 days’ notice with an injury. Fundora was slated to take on Serhii Bohachuk in a supporting bout.

And now Tszyu needed an opponent. Mendoza, coming off his clear-cut defeat by Tszyu, wasn’t a viable candidate. Fundora, despite having been inactive for a year since getting knocked out by Mendoza, was. So “The Towering Inferno” slid into the main event, leaving Bohachuk in need of an opponent, and fortunately, Mendoza had been training (as a sparring partner to Tszyu) and answered the call.

Fortunately for Bohachuk, that is.

Not so fortunately for Mendoza, who, on the Amazon Prime pre-show leading into the PPV, found himself overmatched, and unable to cope with Bohachuk’s relentlessness. Mendoza won just two rounds out of 12 on one card and three rounds on the others, and suddenly he was 0-2, with 24 punishing rounds logged, since sparking Fundora 51 weeks earlier.

Wisely, Mendoza took a couple of steps back after that. His team gave him a nice, long break – more than 15 months off. And when he returned, it was in an eight-rounder in Mexico against Jesus Antonio Rojas, a slightly sub-.500 fighter who’d lost three straight. Mendoza did as he was expected to, stopping Rojas early in the fourth round.

He’s now 32 years old, with a record of 23-4 (17 KOs), as he prepares to take on Tellez, a well-regarded Cuban prospect who is on his own bounce-back path after an upset loss to Abass Baraou in August.

Tellez vs Mendoza is a solid undercard bout between two junior middles in desperate need of a win, and it has the potential to steal Saturday’s show, provided that Mendoza is still more or less the same fighter he was against Fundora and against Tszyu.

As for Fundora, all signs suggest he’s not the same fighter he was three years ago against Mendoza. He’s a significantly scarier one.

Atop the card two years on on which Mendoza got derailed by Bohachuk, Fundora got his career back on track and then some against Tszyu.

The only thing trickier than facing a 6’5½”, 154lbs southpaw is taking on a 6’5½”, 154lbs southpaw on short notice after preparing to take on an orthodox fighter of orthodox height.

Tszyu learned that lesson, as well as a lesson about rotten luck and about there being a time and place to fight through adversity. The Aussie started well, but an accidental elbow from the world’s pointiest-elbowed junior middleweight tore open a nasty gash on Tszyu’s scalp late in the second round, and instead of pushing for a no-contest and a chance to fight another day, Tszyu fought at a disadvantage through constant blood loss – and Fundora shined. Fundora’s face was a mess by the time it was over, too, but he showed toughness and determination and emerged at the end of 12 grueling rounds with a career-best split decision win.

Fundora was back – but there were doubts and asterisks. Could he have beaten Tszyu without the cut? Was he still the same seemingly chinny guy that Mendoza tuned up?

A mismatch in March 2025 against Chordale Booker was never going to answer those questions, but Fundora did what he was supposed to, dominating the fight and stopping Booker in the fourth.

That set the stage for a rematch with Tszyu in July – as good a fight as any to erase all doubts and asterisks created by their first meeting. What we got was the most fearsome version of Fundora that we’ve seen yet – a relentless, versatile, aggressive monster who’s hard to square with the bespectacled, khakis-wearing, soft-spoken young man we see when Fundora reluctantly hits the pre-fight promotional circuit.

Fundora obliterated Tszyu in their rematch to improve to 23-1-1 (15 KOs), knocking him down in the first round and forcing a surrender at the end of the seventh.

It was hard to believe Tszyu was facing the same opponent he’d been rather unlucky to lose to the first time, never mind the same fighter Mendoza had once splattered. Tszyu was as impressed as anyone, expressing with some degree of astonishment afterwards: “He’s one tough motherfucker. Victory belongs to Sebastian Fundora. He was just the better man. He’s tall as fuck.”

And now he’s a heavy favorite to defeat the veteran Thurman, while Mendoza is a sizable underdog deeper down the card.

Hey, things change. Recall that when Mendoza knocked Fundora out in 2023, it was on Showtime. By the end of that year, boxing on Showtime did not exist. And by early the next year, the Showtime network didn’t even have its own standalone app. Type “showtime.com” into your web browser now, and you’ll be redirected to “paramountpluswithshowtime.com”.

So it is by no means unnatural for one fighter who was at the lowest of lows three years ago to now stand so much taller, literally and figuratively, than the fighter who was at the highest of highs at his expense three years ago. What goes up must come down, and what goes down can potentially come back up.

But it’s still a bit jarring to see Fundora and Mendoza sharing a card again, positioned so differently on it that you’d think “Mendoza KO 7 Fundora” had never happened.

It did, of course. But one result doesn’t determine a fighter’s fate. Not if they refuse to let it. And not if they landed one fleeting, magical three-punch combination and don’t have it in them to reproduce it.

Eric Raskin is a veteran boxing journalist with nearly 30 years of experience covering the sport for such outlets as BoxingScene, ESPN, Grantland, Playboy, and The Ring (where he served as managing editor for seven years). He also co-hosted The HBO Boxing Podcast, Showtime Boxing with Raskin & Mulvaney, The Interim Champion Boxing Podcast with Raskin & Mulvaney, and Ring Theory. He has won three first-place writing awards from the BWAA, for his work with The Ring, Grantland, and HBO. Outside boxing, he is the senior editor of CasinoReports and the author of 2014’s The Moneymaker Effect. He can be reached on X, BlueSky, or LinkedIn, or via email at RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com.

Ten years ago, you defended your British middleweight title against Chris Eubank Jnr, not that you need reminding. Every day since has been a reminder and some things we can never forget, even if we wish we could. Often, in fact, it is the things we could do with forgetting that are the hardest to shake. It’s everything else that tends to fade. All the small, supposedly insignificant details that make up a life. All those little moments you take for granted at the time, only to then realise with the passing of time their value and significance. 

In 2016, it was just work – for us both. For you, the boxer, there was yet another training camp followed by yet another fight, while for me, the press officer for said fight, the job was a little less exciting and a lot less risky. I only had to ask you about Chris Eubank Jnr; you had to get in the ring and fight him. 

Still, as champion, you fancied your chances. We both did. The year before, you had beaten John Ryder, Damon Jones and Jack Arnfield like it was nothing. You were also fit, prepared, never more confident. This was evident the day I watched you spar George Groves, a super middleweight, in London. You were there with your friend Jake that day and the energy and enthusiasm you both brought to the gym was infectious. The only worry at that stage was burnout; doing too much; working too hard. You were just 25 but you felt older. “I have no social life whatsoever at the moment,” you moaned, before telling me you hadn’t had a holiday for 10 years. “It’s just gym, eat, sleep. Will my life always be like this? It’s a bit of a worry.”

You said the dream was to one day move from Trowbridge to Cornwall. You described yourself as a “water baby” and said you could quite easily see yourself living out your days surfing. Your next holiday would be there, in Cornwall, after the fight. “When you’re down in Cornwall, you start turning soft,” you explained. “You don’t need that if you’re a boxer. You’ve got to be hard.”

That you were. In fact, no sooner had you fled the gym that afternoon than Groves and his trainer, Shane McGuigan, said how impressed they were with your ability to take punches and keep coming forward; a reminder that in boxing “impressed” and “concerned” can sometimes mean the same thing. 

On the eve of the Eubank Jnr fight, you sat with friends in the bar of Wembley’s Holiday Inn and listened to your trainer, Gary Lockett, crack jokes and do bad impressions. At one point you were passed a package containing the black and gold robe you would wear the following evening. “You’ve changed,” one of your friends said. “Look at it. All sparkly and stuff.” You laughed as you sipped your coffee. You then said, “I can’t wait to smash him in the face with a right hand”.

For the fight you were to wear Grant gloves and Eubank Jnr would wear Winning gloves. Both weighed the same – 10 ounces – but the Winning gloves were noticeably larger, with more padding around the knuckle. The Grant gloves, yours, carried the weight mostly in the wrist area. “I know which ones I’d rather be getting hit in the face with,” said Lee Squirrell, Hennessy Sports’ event manager, as we passed the gloves back and forth in our makeshift office at Wembley Arena.

The next day, we saw the damage those Winning gloves could do. The extra padding around the knuckle protected the hands of the boxer throwing them – in this case, Eubank Jnr – and this allowed them to be thrown repeatedly at the target. You, the target, were partially sighted due to a haematoma above your left eye, meaning they had left their mark – the gloves, Eubank Jnr, the sport. 

Even so, you kept going, as we knew you would. So brave, and so stubborn, you battled through to round 10, the round in which Victor Loughlin, the referee, asked the doctor to inspect your eye and decided enough was enough. The crowd of two-and-a-half thousand now booed. They wanted more. You did, too. You wanted to keep going, convinced you could turn things around, while Eubank Jnr, just as deflated, wanted to finish you in a manner more conclusive and satisfying. It was, we thought at the time, the ending nobody wanted. But we know now that we were wrong. 

In your changing room after the fight, not one of us had the words to describe what had just happened. I hugged your friend, Jake, if only to acknowledge the uncertainty, then left. I still had a job to do. 

In Eubank Jnr’s changing room, meanwhile, the victor and his team had a lot more to say. “Nothing new there,” you might have said had you been awake. Had you been where you should have been: in your changing room surrounded by your friends and family.

“His corner should have pulled him out of there or the referee should have stopped it,” said Ronnie Davies, Eubank Jnr’s trainer. “That boy took way too much punishment. I thought he should have been stopped around the seventh. He was just getting beaten up, thrashed. It was a severe beating. No matter what happens now, that kid will not fight again. He took too much punishment and is probably damaged now.”

Standing across the changing room was Chris Eubank Snr, who ate chunks of pineapple from a plastic pot and thought about Michael Watson and the tragedy that befell them both at White Hart Lane in 1991. He never wanted this for his son – the boxing, the tragedy. Nor did he want this for you. “You can see I’m teary now, can’t you?” he said to me that night. “You’ve been there,” I said in response. “It’s not that I’ve been there,” he stressed, wiping tears from his eyes. “I am there.” 

Thirteen-and-a-half minutes after you left the ring on a stretcher you were placed in an induced coma. They said you died in the back of the ambulance and that only a shot of adrenalin, injected into your heart, brought you back to life. The ambulance then took you to St. Mary’s Hospital in Paddington, where we all waited for you to wake up.  

 

***

 

Five days later, you were still in a coma – stable, sedated – but had avoided the need for surgery and, though we remained in the dark, the sun had entered your room to brighten things up. Mick Hennessy, your promoter, stood by your bedside and said, “Nick, if only you could see the sun right now. It’s great surfing weather. Come on, mate. We’re supposed to meet you in Cornwall this summer.”

By that time your friends had transformed the hospital’s ninth floor into their own private living quarters. They slept on black leather chairs they relabelled “pods”, they wandered around half-naked, they ordered takeaway food, and they hooked up a laptop to a television to play movies. The hospital staff didn’t like it, but your friends didn’t care. This was a vigil. This was teamwork. This was love. On the window ledge were some tulips sent to you by the Turkish family from whom you had ordered your post weigh-in meal. 

In that waiting room on the ninth floor, your friends made a habit of watching Escape to the Country as a kind of bonding exercise; same time each day; shards of normality. Oh, and Jake, to keep spirits high, told us your real nickname: “Bing Bong.” He then showed us a video of you singing a Britney Spears song in a car on your way to Monaco. Also, your brother, Dan, said his 61st professional fight would now officially be his last. He had a family to think about. “It’s not worth it,” he said. However, he would, as you know, fight 15 more times. 

You woke from the coma on April Fools’ Day, a Friday. The first person you called was your dad, who failed to recognise the number on his phone and naturally thought he was being pranked. Then, once convinced it was you, he rushed to your bedside, where he was informed by nurses that you yourself had pulled the tube from your throat. He was not surprised. It sounded like the sort of thing you would do. 

Tyson Fury, they said, was the first person you had requested to see. Why? “Because he is the only one who will break me out of here,” you told them. You later asked your friends to contact Mick Hennessy and have him loan you the money to get yourself a safe house. This – your creative mind – amused them greatly. Now they all tried to convince you that you were staying in a Novotel hotel and that the nurses were waitresses at your beck and call. All you really wanted, though, you told your dad, was a roast dinner. 

When we entered the room, you gave us two thumbs up. There was a Galaxy chocolate bar, a bag of Mini Eggs, and a box of blueberries on your bedside table. You recognised each visitor, called us by our names, and interacted with us as though no great drama had unfolded and no time had elapsed. Your left leg was in a splint and dragged a bit when you moved, you said. You missed your dog. 

Asked what you remembered of the fight, you called it a “slugfest” and believed you were just caught by a “clean shot”. You thought you were knocked out, it soon became clear. “I remember the referee trying to shove veins or straws up my nose and then I tried ripping them out,” you said. “I was like, ‘Fuck off!’ I didn’t want the fight to be stopped.” You shrugged; acted like it was fine. You said you would get your revenge one day and smiled at us. It was at that point we revealed to you that you had not been knocked out. We told you tales of your own bravery and didn’t stop until you believed us. 

 

***

 

The next time I saw you was in September and we were at the Fight Science gym in Aldershot’s military barracks. You wore boxing gloves on your hands and were back in a fighting stance. I wanted to yell “Stop!” the second I walked in and caught you, but resisted. It was, after all, just for show. A bit of fun. You were teaching lessons to others. You had learned your own. 

When, having finished, you finally sat down beside me on a bench, you mentioned that you had sparred on Monday. “Only did a few rounds, but I felt good,” you said. “I took a few shots.” One of the army blokes then sauntered over, wiped his forehead with a towel, and asked you if you had a fight lined up. You joked that you did: Manchester, December 15. “The rematch,” you said. “Time to get my revenge.”

You first got heavy. Thirteen-ston- six was the heaviest you had ever been, by your account, and you hated how it felt. How you felt. When you were again quizzed about the possibility of boxing, this time by a chubby lad in a tight Ralph Lauren polo shirt, you said, “Yeah, as a heavyweight”. You then opened your car boot to fetch a fresh T-shirt and showed me your flat stomach. You fixated on a barely-there ripple of belly fat and said, “That has never been there before”. 

Before you headed home to Trowbridge, we went from the barracks to Caffe Macchiato in Aldershot town centre and you claimed you wanted to read more books. Forget your body, that temple of old, you wanted to now work more on your brain, you said. You had a new-found respect for it, apparently, and now understood not only its importance but the need to treat and train it like a muscle. It was then that I told you I had spent the past couple of years writing a book about ring tragedies and their aftermath. I suggested you should read it. Said it might be a good time now that you were free from the sport and deemed one of the “lucky ones”. But no, you said, not yet. You liked the idea of buying your own copy once it was published. Better that way. You asked me if you got a mention, I called you my “happy ending”, and you asked me not to spoil it – the ending. So, I didn’t. You also reiterated your desire to go surfing. You had, as originally planned, done a bit back in July when you travelled in a VW Transporter with Jake, but the thirst was still not quenched. The thirst to surf; take risks. The way you told it, you had, in July, walked the Pentire headland and took turns jumping 40 feet from a giant rock. “I just love that fear that you might hurt yourself,” you said. “I’m surprised I didn’t die.” 

You then sparred one more time, in November, and some said they were surprised you didn’t die. You were at a boxing club in Devizes and back in the ring, gloved up, just eight months after the Eubank Jnr fight. To you, it must have felt like progress, or a return to normality, but it was in fact the opposite. There was to be no comeback. You instead returned to a coma and now required emergency surgery. You tried to fight again. Now you had to. 

 

***

 

Two years later, in 2018, I spotted you from a distance at an outdoors weigh-in in Manchester. Tyson Fury was there, loud and out of shape, and so were you, invited and heroic. It was his comeback fight, the first of many, and like so many, he couldn’t keep away. I remembered, watching you greet him, the time when you were in St. Mary’s Hospital certain he was the man to come break you out. You posed for pictures with him and fans asked for pictures with you, fists up, big smiles. I thought, briefly, about approaching and saying hello, but I didn’t want to confuse matters, so decided not to. It was, I could tell, a lot for you to take in. You were back in that world again; that world you so dearly loved; that world that had damaged you. There would have been mixed emotions, for sure, and the last thing you needed on top of that was some extra confusion. Besides, I could tell, when you walked past, that it would take more than a wave or a handshake to reconnect. I just smiled like a stranger, respectful rather than familiar. 

In 2022, you sent me a message out of the blue. It had, by then, been several years since we last communicated, yet such is the voyeuristic nature of social media, following from afar – a safe distance – was made easy. There, online, you were busy, insightful, inspiring. Some days you were up, some days you were down, but there were, in your videos, glimmers of the old Nick: the sense of humour, the bright smile, the “Bang Bang” catchphrase. You seemed to be not only helped in your recovery but also loved. Each post was a reassurance. 

From me, you wanted the same, nothing more. You had, I discovered, recently gotten around to reading some of the material I had written about your last fight and couldn’t believe the degree of detail in it. The stuff about the fight, the stuff about the aftermath, the stuff about surfing in Cornwall. It was as if those memories, that time, had been stolen from you – by me. You now wanted to understand how I, this stranger, had managed to recall and describe a situation sadly beyond your grasp. Even in your messages I could sense you reaching for it. I could sense, too, your panic and confusion. I asked you if you remembered me. You said, “Name rang a bell but can’t remember any interviews”. 

Still, though, that was fine; to be expected. It is not your job to remember the names and faces of the supporting characters with whom you crossed paths during your fighting career. It is in fact our job, as observers and admirers, to provide reminders as and when they are required. It is our job to remind fighters like you of their heroism and fill in any gaps that may have appeared as a result of that heroism. Sometimes the greater the gaps, the greater the heroism. Sometimes, true in your case, no matter how much a fighter forgets, there will always be somebody on hand to remind you. It’s called leaving your mark.

LAS VEGAS – Keith Thurman is a truth-teller, and there’s no hiding that he’s 37 years old and has fought just 15 rounds over the past seven years while beset by some injuries.

Yet Thurman, 31-1 (23KOs), is also a former unified welterweight champion who has drawn from the wisdom of all 30 years of his boxing experience to chase a way to upset 6ft 6ins Sebastian Fundora and become WBC 154lbs champion on Saturday night at MGM Grand.

“Look, man, when you talk about a fight before a fight, you don’t know what you’re going to see – you don’t know what you’re really gonna get,” Thurman told BoxingScene before appearing at a public conversation on Wednesday at the hotel.

“But this is the human dilemma. We have an intellectual mind, so we’re going to gravitate towards all the knowledge we have to predict the outcome of an event we don’t have actual knowledge of. So what can Keith Thurman do? Keith Thurman is 37. Keith Thurman has had lay-offs. Keith Thurman has had three surgeries. These are just facts.”

Thurman is laying a trap by listing these vulnerabilities, of course.

Dismiss him, and you neglect who he was, reigning as unified welterweight champion after compiling victories against the likes of Robert Guerrero, Shawn Porter and Danny Garcia nearly a decade ago.

Toss him aside, in favor of the uniquely framed Fundora 23-1-1 (15KOs) and it disregards his past two victories, over recent welterweight champion Mario Barrios and then journeying to Australia to dispose of Brock Jarvis by third-round TKO in 2025.

Thurman reminds that it’s Fundora, 28, who postponed their planned date in October with a hand injury.

“So as people are analyzing, they’re doing it off this kind of intel,” Thurman said. “They didn’t see me in camp. No one has seen Sebastian move. Sebastian’s coming off an injury, and we don’t know the significance of that injury to be honest. We don’t know if he had to protect himself through this camp to not have a recurring injury. There’s a lot of things we don’t know.”

Thurman only losing to record eight-division champion Manny Pacquiao is no shame, and as he looks to the distance beyond Saturday night, victory could propel him to some big-time fights.

With former 154lbs champion Tim Tszyu, whom Thurman was supposed to fight before injuring his arm and seeing replacement opponent Fundora step in to capture the WBC and WBO belts in 2024, bound for a date later this year against three-belt welterweight champion Errol Spence Jnr, the winner would be a natural foe.

As would former undisputed 154lbs champion Jermell Charlo, who is said to be considering a return.

“Keith Thurman has done a lot of great things in boxing,” Thurman said. “People want to know if he’s going to do something great right now. How much more does he have left? I know the answer to that.

“I’ve been doing this for 30 years. Sebastian Fundora is not fighting someone on his level. He’s not fighting a peer. This is the first real veteran – remember, this is a gladiator sport, with art-of-war tactics – and we’ve seen throughout boxing history how veterans have upset the young man.

“The veteran has these plays, these moments, where they get to prove you need to respect people who have been in battles and know what it means to be in tough fights, and have multiple tricks up their sleeves. With 30 years of experience, this is Vegas, baby, I’m going to put on a great show, and you might just see a rabbit come out of the hat.”

One of the creative maneuvers Thurman has done in training camp is to remove a chain link holding a heavy bag to a beam above him, allowing the 5-feet-9.5ins challenger to better practice overhand rights at Fundora’s head.

“I’m going to have to reach a bit,” Thurman explained. “His chin is not 6-5. There’s a few spots on the human body that are critical. You’ve got the temple lobes on the left and the right side. The nose can be busted, but it doesn’t knock somebody out. It’s not a kill shot. But the chin has nerves.

“Those two nerves send a signal to the brain and it buckles the knees. So the chin is a critical shot and I know my overhand right may not be [reaching] the temple. That’s way up there. But I still have to go up there – it’s only a little bit of a stretch – to get to that chin. I’ll be reaching with a lot of my shots.”

He’s also targeting Fundora’s slender midsection.

“When it comes to the lower body, you have the two lower ‘floating ribs’ on the left side and right side,” he said. “Those are the weakest ribs because they’re subject to the pain. And then the solar plexus is another weak spot, to ‘knock the wind out of him’ by snatching a pocket of air from your lungs and making it very difficult to breathe. So I’ve got one vital spot up top and three down below. It could be a head or body shot. I’m going to let him show me what mistakes he’ll make and I’ll capitalize on my expertise.”

The mind knows. Can the advanced-aged body deliver?

“It’s very easy to push back everything to tomorrow: ‘I’ll do this tomorrow.’,” he said. “‘Maybe I don’t have to do this right now.’ ‘Maybe there’ll be another chance, another opportunity.’

“But there comes a time in life where you’ve had a lot of ‘tomorrows’, and you hit a time where you feel you’re running out of time. For us men, later on in life, it’s called that mid-life crisis, and the older men reflect, ‘How’d I realize my time?’

“Life is not a life to be filled with regrets. And that’s one of the reasons why I’m fighting. People ask me hy? ‘He’s 37 years old; went through so much; what’s he get out of it?’ There’ll be a day I can’t fight, and if I don’t fight today… if I retire today and never fight again, there’s going to be a day for me later in life, when I’m reflecting, and I ask, ‘Did you give your career all you have?’”

So, on Saturday, 11 years to the month he fought in his promoter Premier Boxing Champions’ first main event, also at the MGM Grand, Thurman seeks to perform like a classic-rock band, hitting the notes and arousing those vintage memories as the Eagles will be doing that same night at the Sphere.

“Honestly, I’ve given so much to this sport,” Thurman said. “For some reason, the inactivity has allowed me to rekindle some kind of love. My passion has been sparked. And this little voice inside my head has come on to say, ‘You’ve got more. You can do more. Let’s go for it one more time. Make something great happen one more time.’

“That’s what this night is all about. Not only do I get to make history happen, I get to make it all happen in the sport I love. The sport I chose to do when I was a little boy. I pushed and persevered and tried again… I love the life I live, and I look forward to Saturday night.

“Sebastian Fundora is a terrific champion, but this is 30 years of boxing experience that the world is going to see in those moments Saturday night.”

Lance Pugmire is BoxingScene’s senior U.S. writer and an assistant producer for ProBox TV. Pugmire has covered boxing since the early 2000s, first at the Los Angeles Times and then at The Athletic and USA Today. He won the Boxing Writers’ Association of America’s Nat Fleischer Award in 2022 for career excellence.

Dalton Smith has already demonstrated his willingness to walk off the beaten path to get what he wants. By agreeing to a clash with Alberto Puello for his first title defense – set for June 6 at Smith’s hometown Utilita Arena Sheffield in England – he showed he isn’t about to take a backwards step now.

That would surprise no one who witnessed his January stoppage of Subriel Matias, in which Smith balled up and tossed away his initial fight plan to trade blows with the division’s most-feared puncher and then sparked Matias in the fifth round at Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York, to capture the belt in rousing fashion.

“Yeah, you know, life's gotten a little bit busier,” Smith, 19-0 (14 KOs), told “BoxingScene Today” in a Wednesday interview. “There's a lot more eyes, but it's part of the parcel.”

Both the punch and the performance against Matias left quite the impression. In the aftermath, Matchroom Boxing head Eddie Hearn, Smith’s promoter, called it “the greatest away win I’ve ever felt or witnessed, whatever you call it. Dalton Smith is a fucking hero.”

But Puello, a 24-1 (10 KOs) southpaw from the Dominican Republic and now training out of Las Vegas, represents a very different kind of challenge. If Matias was dynamite, the 31-year-old Puello is a straight razor.

“I think he's a great fighter,” Smith said of Puello. “He's two-time world champion, and everybody who's close and knows me, they know I love an awkward southpaw. I always used to do well against them in the amateurs, and I’ve fought six or seven as a professional. So it's a fight I'm excited for. … I believe I’ll be able to find weaknesses in his style that not many people have done up to now.”

Puello's first reign was as WBA titleholder and ended when he was stripped after testing positive for a performance-enhancing drug. (Puello said he had used the substance to help conceive with his wife.) With a 2024 win over Gary Antuanne Russell, Puello captured the interim WBC belt and was then elevated to a full titleholder when Devin Haney vacated. Puello defended it against Sandor Martin but lost the belt in a majority decision to Matias last July – Puello's first defeat.

“You know, we’re no strangers to Puello,” Smith said. “We was looking at him before, when him and Matias was fighting. So we've studied him quite a bit, and I think it's gonna be a great fight.”

As tricky as Puello is sure to be, it’s easy to imagine Smith, trafficking in a loaded division, doing blockbuster business very soon – especially given how well his home fans traveled in his win in New York.

“You can't overlook anyone,” Smith said. “I always take it one fight at a time. I've got a job to do with Puello first, and then the bigger fights come after that. So you look at the division – there’s Shakur [Stevenson] there, there’s [Richardson] Hitchins, and there's some big fights. Like you said, I'm ranked No. 1 now. So get the job done here, and then there's some big fights to be made. My job is to keep my feet on the ground, keep on winning, and I'll be a part of those.”

Adam Azim, 14-0 (11 KOs), is a countryman and another potential opponent who keeps getting floated around Smith, who admits he would love to next put on a fight at Hillsborough Stadium, home of Sheffield Wednesday F.C. A matchup there with Slough’s Azim would make one hell of a domestic matchup of unbeatens, should Smith get through Puello. 

“One fight at a time,” he said. “I've got to keep on winning to make these dreams come into reality.

“We're lucky as fighters to have dance partners, and we've got to take advantage of them. But I've done it the hard way. I’ve come through the traditional route. I've never skipped anyone, and I've had to prove myself at world level. So I believe Albert’s got to do that. He's got to prove he’s world-level. Because you can't give no easy shots to anyone when you've done it the hard way.”

Jason Langendorf is the former Boxing Editor of ESPN.com, was a contributor to Ringside Seat and the Queensberry Rules, and has written about boxing for Vice, The Guardian, Sun-Times and other publications. A member of the Boxing Writers Association of America, he can be found at LinkedIn and followed on X and Bluesky.

For those numb to the speculation that Tyson Fury and Anthony Joshua will at last fight in 2026, there was comfort to be found in the recent footage of Joshua out in Ukraine with his old rival Oleksandr Usyk.

Fury vs. Joshua is a tired rivalry, one like many in recent years that could not be made at the right time so it's dragged into borrowed time. It’s veering towards pantomime territory, almost, with familiar characters trotting out familiar lines.

When one listens to Fury talk about giving Joshua time to get over the recent deaths of two of his best friends, then, in his next breath, declare he will “punch the head off” Joshua should they fight, neither the message of goodwill nor subsequent threat feel particularly worthwhile. 

It’s different with Usyk and Joshua, however. Two fighters who entered their two-fight, 24-round, rivalry with complete respect for each other now have only more. Joshua, after seeing a proposed bout with Fury collapse in 2021, pluckily accepted the challenge from Usyk, unsuspecting of the boxing lesson he would endure over 12 rounds. There would be a return, one more competitive, but the Ukrainian would again prove superior over the championship distance.

It was difficult for Joshua to take, initially. His actions post-fight, when he groggily tried to vocalise his frustration before dumping the belts out of the ring, spoke to a man who realised for the first time that giving everything in a fight would not always be enough to win. 

Their relationship today is rooted where it matters. It’s meaningful. It’s genuine. It’s the kind of story that many within the sport will claim is ‘what boxing is all about’ when, the truth is, it’s a story that’s gained traction because it stands out from the constant squabbling and name-calling we’ve gotten so used to.

Usyk showing Joshua around Ukraine, offering guidance in the gym and opening his arms for an embrace, says plenty about both. It is genuine, too, when they take time to speak to children or sit at ringside to support local amateur boxers, all of whom treasuring their attention. Both Usyk and Joshua have long understood the importance of keeping their feet, and egos, on the ground.

Quite what Joshua is battling inside his head is only known to him but what he went through, seeing his two friends die in the same car in which he was travelling, is not a click-of-the-fingers-and-it’s-over kind of ordeal. It’s incredible, as Elliot Worsell wrote last week, that barely three months have passed and, already, the boxing industry is getting impatient regarding an announcement about the 36-year-old’s next move. Incredible, too, albeit in a different sense of the word, that world heavyweight champion Usyk – with a fight in May to prepare for – is taking the time to be there for an old rival.

What the future looks like for Joshua is unknown. His last contest, out in Miami, Florida, when he broke Jake Paul’s jaw after a middling December performance, told us very little about Joshua’s prospects at the top of the heavyweight division. 

Regardless of what may or not come next, Joshua – like Usyk – continues to conduct himself in a wholly admirable way. Not once, since a professional boxer, has he behaved badly outside of the ring. Evidence of his personality could be seen in the aftermath of the Paul victory when he took the time to thank each of his supporters in the crowd. That wasn’t just for the Netflix cameras, either. Though it used to get a little tiresome to wait hours and hours for him to wade through stadium crowds to get to post-fight press conferences when covering his fights, Joshua – in contrast to many of his standing – always makes time for those who really matter. 

Regular trips to visit those who guided him during his amateur days are commonplace. He’s the first active elite boxer to show his support for Ringside Charitable Trust. He’s helped a lot of people; paid debts, bought homes, covered funeral costs. And all while asking for his acts of goodwill to remain private. 

His desire to seek the teachings of Usyk, another heavyweight champion who exhibits exemplary conduct, is such a refreshing contrast to the verbal mudslinging that frequently stains boxing’s windows to the outside world.

“Now he’s my big, big brother,” Usyk said about Joshua to the Daily Mail this week. “Not my rival, not my opponent. He’s my partner. My brother.

“Anthony is a champion. He doesn’t have belts now. Doesn’t matter. Champion is a man who never gives up.”

Which is why it doesn’t really matter what comes next for the former two-time titlist. Joshua’s legacy, when one considers what really matters in this world, should already be secure.

The results of the latest hearing surrounding the proposed amendment to the current Ali Act drew an immediate reminder to Dana White’s Zuffa Boxing 03 post-press conference comments surrounding his promotional rivals.

"What's been the biggest pushback? There hasn't been any pushback,” White said last month. “This is like beating up babies. I feel like I came in and I'm beating up babies.”

The minimal resistance that came with advancing the H.R. 4624 bill - the Muhammad Ali American Boxing Revival Act (MAABRA) – was a reminder of how powerful a machine is behind Zuffa Boxing’s emergence in the sport.

The U.S. House of Representatives voted overwhelmingly in favor of suspending the rules and passing the bill as amended during a hearing held Tuesday in Washington D.C. The “ayes” far overruled the “nays” after a 40-minute hearing, during which time many spoke in favor of H.R. 4624 which has thus far greatly carried bipartisan support.

“The House of Representatives made history today by passing by voice vote landmark boxing legislation that will revive one of America’s greatest sports in the name of one of America’s greatest athletes,” Georgia congressman Brian Jack, who first introduced the bill last summer, said in a statement provided to the media. “Professional boxing is the only sport regulated by Congress, and ambiguity in current law — adopted over a quarter century ago — has adversely affected boxers and stifled investment. 

“The Muhammad Ali American Boxing Revival Act strengthens safety protections for boxers, improves the quality of life for boxers, and establishes a framework for innovation within the sport to flourish.”

The bill still must pass through the Senate floor and then gain approval from U.S. president Donald Trump before it becomes official law. White – the face of both UFC and Zuffa Boxing – is a strong ally of Trump, who regularly attends major UFC events.

Given the political connections thus far and the rapid speed at which the proposed amendment has already advanced, that part is not at all expected to be a hurdle to clear.

Tuesday’s development came barely two months after The Education and Workforce Committee voted 30-4 in favor to advance an amended version of the bill. The final vote among the 37 assigned members (three representatives did not cast a vote) allows the proposed amendment to the current Professional Boxing Safety Act of 1996 to appear before the House of Representatives.

H.R. 4624 carries significant fighter protections in terms of higher guaranteed minimum pay, health benefits and stronger medical safety standards. Where it is of benefit to Zuffa is that the amendment is offered as an “or” for promoters who don’t wish to operate under the current Ali Act.

Simply put, it will allow Zuffa to produce the boxing equivalent of the UFC model – its own league (noted in the bill as “Unified Boxing Organizations” or “UBO”), its own championship and rankings, without having to deal with the sanctioning bodies and their fees.

Among the few dissenting votes from January was Rep. Joe Courtney who remained opposed to the bill in present form. The Democratic congressman representing Connecticut used his allotted five minutes to further address his concerns.

“The committee received significant testimony from those deeply in the landscape of boxing and warned us this would strip away many of the hard-fought reforms (from the original Ali Act and the Professional Boxing Safety Act,” stated Mr. Courtney. “H.R. 4624 creates a new parallel legal structure, the so-called [UBOs], which can engage in promotion, rule setting, match organization and creation of their own titles and rankings under the existing law negotiated and spearheaded by the late John McCain.

“These functions have been required to remain separate to protect against conflicts of interest and coercive contract terms for boxers. H.R. 4624 will replicate a model that has been extremely lucrative in… mixed martial arts (UFC) that operates with few legal and economic protections for fighters, leading to a long history of litigation and allegations of coercive and anti-competitive practices.”

Rep. Courtney drew attention to USA Boxing’s decision to rescind its previous support of the amendment, along with already submitted letters by Top Rank founder Bob Arum and longtime boxing attorney Patrick English, both of whom are vehemently opposed to the bill.

Still, much progress was made from the first Education and Workforce Committee hearing in December, where there was a greater divide on advancing the amendment in present form.

Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) was the voice of reason during that hearing. She drew attention to the UFC antitrust lawsuit and subsequent $375,000,000 settlement over claims of fighter pay suppression for more than 1,200 athletes from a period of December 2010-June 2017.

That said, Rep. Omar explicitly stated that she was neither for nor against the bill at the time and called for continued dialogue among both sides of the aisle. That wish was not only granted but led to several key revisions to the original amendment – such as a sunset clause in fighter contracts; the right to negotiate with other promoters within the final 30 days of contract ahead of potential free agency; and a monthly per diem equivalent to no less than ten times the minimum per round pay for inactive fighters, to avoid athletes being unfairly benched or forced into unfair fights.

On the other side, many in the industry have raised concerns over how the bill will affect the U.S. club boxing scene. There is grave concern that boxing’s middle class and club-level will be run out of the sport.

Immediate online reaction to Tuesday’s hearing outcome suggests those concerns remain in place and that the voice of the sport’s majority is not being heard in D.C.

Nevertheless, Zuffa – which has already introduced its first championship – continues to rack up political victories just months into its entrance into the sport.

H.R. 4624 was first introduced in the 119^th Congress by Rep. Jack and Rep. Sharice Davids (D-Kansas) in July. The selling points were to improve fighter safety, health and financial standards within the sport. Additionally, the suggestion of a UBO was offered as an alternative to the current system, rather than replace it outright. 

The initial movement came with the full support of Zuffa, a subsidiary of TKO Group Holdings. The group is headed by UFC president Dana White, WWE president Nick Khan (also a TKO board member), Sela CEO Rakan Alharthy and Riyadh Season head and boxing powerbroker Turki Alalshikh. 

Not everyone was on board, and there still remains significant work to be done. Even the Democrat representatives who reaffirmed their support of the bipartisan bill suggested on Tuesday that continued dialogue is essential to further improving the final version of the bill before it becomes law.

Not that it will ease the minds of those who remain opposed – and unwilling to budge from that stance, for better or worse.

Jake Donovan is an award-winning journalist who served as a senior writer for BoxingScene from 2007-2024, and news editor for the final nine years of his first tour. He was also the lead writer for The Ring before his decision to return home. Follow Jake on X and Instagram.

The New York Yankees are known as the “Evil Empire” for a reason. They consistently have one of Major League Baseball’s highest payrolls, they play in the largest media market and thus get excessive national coverage and, back at the conclusion of the 20th century, they won four World Series in five years. So unless you were raised to be a Yankees fan, chances are the Yankees became the team you most loved to hate.

Naturally, then, when the Yanks made the World Series in 2024 for the first time in 15 years, most of the baseball-engaged public couldn’t wait to see the Empire strike out.

Except the team they were up against, the Los Angeles Dodgers, got there by out-Yankees-ing the Yankees. The Dodgers assembled a roster that felt unfairly stacked – and it had been aggressive spending, more so than sharp scouting or clever trades, that made it so. The team was coming off an offseason in which it locked down Shohei Ohtani with a 10-year, $700 million deal – a $70 million per-year average that actually exceeded one franchise’s entire 2024 payroll.

For the average baseball fan not from the Bronx, the opportunity to watch the Yankees lose on the grandest stage, to see their fans’ collective hearts ripped out, is the next-best thing to watching your favorite team win it all. A Yankees World Series defeat is something we delight in. We love to see it happen.

Just maybe not like this. Not against these other guys with their own Evil Empire vibes.

Which brings me to the current clash between boxing’s sanctioning groups and boxing’s new deep-pocketed power duo, Turki Alalshikh and Dana White.

I’m closing in on 30 years covering boxing. I’m at somewhere north of 25 years rooting for the alphabet bodies’ demise.

They’ve diluted the meaning of the word “champion,” they’ve made a mockery of the concept of ranking fighters on merit and they’ve done their part to push boxing further and further from the mainstream. I firmly believe that boxing would be a healthier, more popular sport if each weight class had one champion, easily identified by the general public, as once was the case. Alphabet title proliferation is not the predominant reason boxing has been pushed to the fringes, but it’s somewhere in the top three or four reasons, certainly.

So I’ve been waiting almost my whole professional career to see the alphabets shoved aside and soundly defeated.

Just maybe not like this. Not by these other guys with their own Evil Empire vibes.

It’s hard to know how to feel when the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy.

To be clear, my use of the word “enemy” is an exaggeration.

I have actually come to like WBC President Mauricio Sulaiman very much on a personal level, and the alphabets are not my “enemies” – they’re just a collection of largely self-serving businesses that I feel have damaged the sport.

I don’t know either White or Alalshikh personally. The former has never wronged me directly or, as far as I know, indirectly. The latter has denied my colleagues at BoxingScene access in a blatant and unjustified abuse of power, but I haven’t necessarily been directly impacted. They are men whose politics and worldviews don’t remotely align with mine, but it would be a stretch to call them my “enemies.”

But still, applying a looser definition of the word, the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy. The forces trying to take out the “bad guys” may be even worse guys.

I want the alphabets gone. But at least they’re the devil we know.

It’s tough to figure out who to root for here – beyond rooting for a Tarantino-style ending. (Another comment I don’t mean literally, in case that wasn’t obvious.)

Nearly a quarter-century ago, in December 2001, when I was the managing editor of The Ring magazine, my boss, then-Editor-in-Chief Nigel Collins, revived Ring championships. He had a pie-in-the-sky hope that this might rid the sport of the sanctioning bodies, but the belts’ more realistic purpose was to provide an alternative for fans and fighters, offering a system where the ratings made sense and whereby you could easily identify who the real champion was.

The timing felt right. After a couple of decades of the WBC, WBA and IBF muddying the title picture and making every so-called “world champ” a claimant to just one-third of a championship, now the WBO was gaining acceptance and reducing titleholders’ shares to just one-quarter of the pie, and the WBA was getting into the habit of handing out both a “super” and a “regular” title in many divisions (this practice began in December 2000).

To have five fighters in a single weight class declaring themselves king is equivalent to anarchy.

In conjunction with that, by the end of 2001, there was a mini-trend of star fighters unifying titles and clearing up their division’s title picture.

Lennox Lewis had unified three heavyweight belts plus the lineal title in 1999. (Then he lost the crown to Hasim Rahman in ’01, but regained it shortly before The Ring championship policy went into effect.) At light heavyweight, Roy Jones finished unifying the three belts The Ring recognized in ’99. In September ’01, Bernard Hopkins won the Middleweight World Championship Series and unified the three major three belts. And two months after that, Kostya Tszyu stopped Zab Judah to combine those same three belts at 140 lbs.

It was a starting point. It was an alternative to the alphabet madness.

But it needed buy-in from folks with louder megaphones than The Ring.

Max Kellerman and Brian Kenny jumped on board enthusiastically on ESPN. But the HBO brass wasn’t into it (even though some of the broadcasters told us privately they would be), and Showtime, which had an exclusive deal with Don King at the time, showed no interest in supporting the cause.

We had the best of intentions, but we only got so far – as evidenced by the fact that there are still at least four recognized alphabet straps in every division nearly 25 years later.

And the irony is not lost on me that Alalshikh now owns The Ring and can control its titles.

Last June, Zuffa Boxing was founded, with Sela – the Saudi Arabian “entertainment and hospitality” company – owning 60 percent of it, and TKO Group Holdings – the parent company of White’s UFC – holding a 40 percent stake.

And Zuffa is now adding its own belts to the mix. Whether Ring belts and Zuffa belts can or will coexist (or will perhaps merge) is unclear, but certainly Zuffa is aiming to run the alphabets off the road.

That’s not me speculating. In January, White spoke these words to Stephen A. Smith: “I'm gonna get rid of the sanctioning organizations.”

Zuffa Boxing is actively engaged in trying to amend the Muhammad Ali Boxing Reform Act of 2000, calling it the Muhammad Ali American Boxing Revival Act of 2026, or the Ali Revival Act for short.

The Ali Revival Act reentered the news cycle last week, when, on March 17, changes were quietly made to it. These were changes that were not voted on the way certain amendments had been in January. These were changes that, thanks to soft spots in the American legislative system, could be included in a final passed law without many members of the voting body even being aware of them.

There are numerous prongs to the Ali Revival Act, some potentially positive, some potentially problematic.

Before I delve into the sanctioning-body-related implications, a quick survey of some of the other aspects.

On the plus side, there will be guaranteed per-round minimums for the boxers – which aren’t a dramatic improvement over the current smallest purses, but every little bit counts.

And there will also be established drug-testing standards, which is theoretically a step forward, although these requirements favor those big-time promoters with endless budgets who can afford to pay for the testing and threaten to put the squeeze on smaller promotional companies and make some club shows impossible to stage.

Along similar lines, insurance costs for promoters could go up significantly, which again is no biggie for a company with Saudi funding but could be devastating to the little guy.

Perhaps the most glaring reason for fight fans to oppose the Ali Revival Act: It will eliminate the existing Ali Act’s requirement that promoters make certain financial disclosures to boxers and commissions. So if, say, a promoter is keeping 90 percent of a fighter’s purse, well, that may just remain the promoter’s dirty little secret.

On to the parts aimed at sanctioning bodies.

The Revival Act establishes grounds for a promotional company, under the categorization of a Unified Boxing Organization (UBO), to award its own titles and compile its own rankings – to be a sanctioning body, in essence.

The text of the bill specifies that “A sanctioning organization or Unified Boxing Organization shall award only 1 championship title for each weight class,” and that “A sanctioning organization or Unified Boxing Organization may not award an interim championship title except in the case of an injury or illness to a reigning titleholder, refusal or inability by the reigning title holder to defend his title, or for reasons beyond the control of the boxer, including inability to travel.”

These are totally sensible adjustments. Multiple belts from a single sanctioning body in a single division are an affront, and often the use of interim titles is too. So, bring it on. Let’s clamp down on that nonsense.

There is a perhaps unintended side effect, though: Regional titles, perfectly useful minor titles never purported to be “world” championships, could get caught in the crosshairs if the language isn’t clarified.

But much more troubling is who’s behind these sensible adjustments and how little reason they’ve given us to trust that they have the fighters’ or fans’ interests at heart.

As Thomas Hauser recently wrote in The Guardian, in some ways Zuffa’s contracts “make Don King’s contracts of old look fighter-friendly.”

As is widely acknowledged, the UFC business model is such that the company thrives while the athletes are routinely underpaid. There is every reason to think White is trying to transfer this paradigm over to boxing. Zuffa will control its championships and rankings while tying fighters’ purses to those championships and rankings it controls, an obvious conflict of interest.

Zuffa wants to take over boxing and enjoy the same sort of near-monopoly UFC has in mixed martial arts. And if boxing becomes a monopoly, fighters will have no leverage to negotiate, no protections or alternatives.

By all accounts, the die has been cast with the Ali Revival Act. The votes are lined up. The guy in the Oval Office who is not exactly pro-labor and who’s planning to host a UFC event on the White House lawn this summer surely isn’t about to bust out a veto.

Again, the Ali Revival Act isn’t all bad. Just as Saudi money in the sport hasn’t proven all bad (some great fights have been made that otherwise wouldn’t have had financing), and just as White’s presence in the sport won’t be all bad (he knows how to maximize a combat sport’s exposure).

White, Alalshikh and the Ali Revival Act are all marching hand in hand to rid the sport of the sanctioning bodies. And that, on paper, should be a welcome development.

Boxing has this long-standing infestation. The exterminators are here.

But what if the exterminators walking through the front door are just as bad as whatever’s living in the walls? What if instead of smoking out the vermin, they’re going to burn down the whole house and then sell the vacant lot?

I’ve been waiting half my life for this. One champ per division is the dream. And here come the guys with the money, power and connections required to potentially make the dream a reality.

Except there’s something so gross about the way they’re going about it that, somehow, to my amazement, a part of me is rooting for the alphabets to survive.

Just like I’d probably have to root for the Yankees this fall if they were the only thing standing between the damned Dodgers and a threepeat.

Eric Raskin is a veteran boxing journalist with nearly 30 years of experience covering the sport for such outlets as BoxingScene, ESPN, Grantland, Playboy, and The Ring (where he served as managing editor for seven years). He also co-hosted The HBO Boxing Podcast, Showtime Boxing with Raskin & Mulvaney, The Interim Champion Boxing Podcast with Raskin & Mulvaney, and Ring Theory. He has won three first-place writing awards from the BWAA, for his work with The Ring, Grantland, and HBO. Outside boxing, he is the senior editor of CasinoReports and the author of 2014’s The Moneymaker Effect. He can be reached on X, BlueSky, or LinkedIn, or via email at RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com.

 

Jai Opetaia is now a former two-time IBF cruiserweight titlist, without having ever lost the belt in the ring. 

BoxingScene has confirmed that the unbeaten Australian was formally stripped of his sanctioning body belt, following a March 19 meeting held by the IBF Board of Directors. The ruling came two weeks after Opetaia, 30-0 (23 KOs), proceeded with an unsanctioned fight versus Brandon Glanton, 21-4 (18 KOs) in their March 8 Zuffa Boxing 04 Paramount+ headliner. 

“On March 19, 2026, the IBF Board of Directors met via teleconference to address the status of the IBF Cruiserweight title held by Jai Opetaia,” the IBF revealed in a ruling obtained by BoxingScene. “At the conclusion of the meeting, the Board voted to vacate the title pursuant to Rule 5.H. 

“The IBF Cruiserweight title is vacant.” 

IBF Rule 5.H discourages reigning titlists from participating in unsanctioned bouts. 

Opetaia’s scheduled clash with Glanton was previously announced as part of the unbeaten champ’s debut with Zuffa Boxing, having signed with the company earlier this year. It was revealed in the weeks leading up to the event that the bout would also crown the first-ever Zuffa cruiserweight champion.

That is where things went sideways between the boxer and the sanctioning body, the latter whom agreed on March 5 to approve the bout on the promise that the Zuffa belt was little more than a trophy. 

“The bout sanction followed discussions that began on February 11, when IBF President Daryl Peoples, after learning about the scheduled contest on social media, reminded Opetaia’s representatives of IBF Rule 5 governing champions and unification bouts. Michael (Mick) Francis, head of Tasman Fighters, Opetaia’s promoter of record with the IBF, followed with an application requesting sanction for the optional defense of the IBF Cruiserweight title. The IBF denied sanction of the bout pursuant to IBF Rule 5.E.2, which states: “For the purpose of unification of titles, the preeminent Champions of the World Boxing Association (‘WBA’), the World Boxing Council (‘WBC’), and the World Boxing Organization (‘WBO’) may be designated as ‘elite contenders’ and may be permitted to fight for the unified title.”

“Francis then requested that the committee reconsider its decision, noting that the bout would not be for unification, but the Zuffa title would be contested alongside the IBF title in the same manner that the International Boxing Organization (IBO) title has been contested in bouts involving IBF champions. Peoples explained that the IBF recognizes the IBO and added that like the other sanctioning organizations operating in U.S. professional boxing, it is subject to the same federal regulatory framework governing sanctioning bodies. Sanction remained denied.” 

All parties were on the same page, to the point where Gibbons’ Knucklehead Boxing wired to the IBF a payment of $73,000 – covering the sanctioning fees for the reported purses of Opetaia ($45,000) and Glanton ($6,000), along with the promoter’s fee ($22,000). 

Once it was confirmed during the final pre-fight press conference that Zuffa was proceeding full steam ahead with its promotion as if its belt were a world championship, IBF officials reversed course. Payment was returned on March 7, on the eve of the Paramount+ streamed event. 

Opetaia defeated Glanton via unanimous decision to retain the title, as well as the RING championship which he has held since his July 2022 win over Mairis Briedis in Broadbeach, Australia. 

Ever the proud titleholder, Opetaia stuck to his guns of wanting to become undisputed champion. He even shut down the agenda being forced upon him by series commentator Max Kellerman – a Zuffa employee and cohost of Ring Magazine’s “Inside the Ring” podcast – who insisted his holding the Ring and Zuffa titles already made him undisputed champion and that he “just doesn’t know it yet.” 

Monday’s revelation could very well change that perspective. 

Opetaia was previously relieved of the IBF belt in December 2023, when he moved forward with an unsanctioned fight versus unranked contender Ellis Zorro in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The ruling was far more clear-cut at the time – Zorro was not in the IBF top 15, and Opetaia was due a mandatory defense versus Briedis. 

The matter was quickly resolved. Shortly after his 1st round knockout of Zorro, Opetaia agreed to once again face Briedis. He earned a repeat win in May 2024 to regain his old belt, which he successfully defended five times. 

It remains unclear whether Opetaia and his team will choose to once again do business with the IBF. He was unwavering in his desire to face WBC titlist Noel Mikaelyan and the winner of the May 2 Gilberto Ramirez-David Benavidez WBA/WBO 200lbs title fight, in a bid to collect all the belts. 

Whatever his decision, the sanctioning body he’s twice represented offered him nothing but the best moving forward. 

“The IBF wishes Jai Opetaia continued success in his career. He rose through the IBF rankings to become World Champion, one of the highest achievements in a fighter’s career. 

“As noted in an earlier press release regarding this situation, the IBF’s rules don’t always yield the preferred or popular outcome, but they provide structure and transparency, serving not just the champion but also those waiting for the opportunity to fight for the title.” 

Next steps regarding the now vacant title were not immediately confirmed as this goes to publication. 

Jake Donovan is an award-winning journalist who served as a senior writer for BoxingScene from 2007-2024, and news editor for the final nine years of his first tour. He was also the lead writer for The Ring before his decision to return home. Follow Jake on X and Instagram.

There are no perfect endings in boxing. Most are bad, or just sad, and even so-called happy ones are often rewritten when the satisfaction of finishing on a win becomes the impetus to return and undo good work. In fact, the only choice you have is when. You seldom get to choose how it ends, but you can choose when it ends. That is up to you, the extent of your autonomy. That is a decision only you can make.

In the case of Ireland’s Michael Conlan, he chose Friday night in Belfast. It had not been his original plan, of course, but sometimes that is the way it goes. His original plan, ahead of fighting America’s Kevin Walsh, was to exorcise demons – Conlan’s two previous outings at Belfast’s SSE Arena had ended in defeat – and continue moving towards a shot at a world featherweight title. However, boxing, as is its custom, had other things in mind for the 34-year-old featherweight.

Rather than give him his redemption story, or even a bridge to cross en route to a title shot, Conlan discovered instead that his time was now up. That didn’t necessarily mean he had to now retire – that decision remained his – but the defeat to Walsh offered Conlan, in a pragmatic sense, everything a fighter would want their final fight to offer. It offered frustration, it offered disappointment, and it offered enough indications to both the fighter and those around him that the reality of the situation could no longer be ignored. 

In an ideal world, yes, Conlan would have liked to have retired on a win, as every boxer does. Yet the truth of the matter is, few boxers will ever have the luxury of retiring on a win; not when the temptation to carry on is too great if still winning fights and riding high. That’s why sometimes a “good defeat” – or at least a revealing one – is the preferred option when it comes to pinpointing the ideal note on which to go out. 

In Belfast on Friday, that is precisely what Conlan got. No, he wouldn’t have been pleased with how it all turned out – the fight, his performance, The End – but, given the alternatives, he would have accepted his cue to leave and been thankful in some ways that it happened like that. He was, after all, at home, surrounded by his friends and family. He was also struggling to beat an opponent he would have beaten with ease at his very best, the mother of all clues. Not just that, there was frustration on Conlan’s face and in his body language throughout the fight, suggestive of someone who knew what he wanted to do but couldn’t quite execute it. 

This frustration then turned to disappointment when Conlan discovered that two of the three ringside judges decided Walsh’s negative, spoiler approach to the fight warranted victory. Suddenly Conlan, now 20-4 (10 KOs), wasn’t just annoyed not to have pinned Walsh down and impressed on his big night. He was a beaten man; beaten, that is, for the fourth time in his professional career. 

In many ways, though, it was a gift, this latest defeat. It wasn’t one Conlan deserved – objectively, he did enough to win – but it was perhaps one he needed at this late stage in his career. Because Conlan would have known more than anyone how he felt during that fight on Friday and he would have accepted that no decision in his favour would have been able to erase or mask that feeling or indeed carry him on through to the next one. Even if, in victory, Conlan had continued with his career, and it’s likely he would have done, he would have known, deep down, that the thing he was trying to grab hold of – a world title, his old self – was now sadly beyond his reach. To carry on would have required Conlan keeping a secret and telling a lie, both to himself and to others. He would have had to find comfort in his own delusion all the while knowing the truth. 

“I remember listening to the great Alexis Argüello talk about retirement,” said Ireland’s Barry McGuigan, the former WBA featherweight champion who retired at the age of 28. “He said, ‘They say boxers are the last ones to know when it’s time to go – I want to be the first.’ 

“Those are my sentiments exactly. But I later realised that in actual fact the boxer is the first one to know but the last to admit it to themselves. That’s the truth. Guys know when they have lost the fire in their belly. They may stay in the game for financial reasons. They may hype it up. They might miss the affirmation, and that’s the reason they come back. But they know when they’ve had enough.”

Just as Barry McGuigan knew in 1989, Michael Conlan knew on Friday night in Belfast. If at all in doubt, he need only look at the face of his brother, Jamie, or the faces of those sitting at ringside or waiting for him in his changing room. If in need of further proof, he need only remind himself that he had lost a decision to an opponent who would have been no problem at all for him on his best day. 

“I knew when I’d had enough and I thought there was no point trying to rekindle anything,” said McGuigan, whose own career came to an end following a fourth-round stoppage loss (cuts) against Jim McDonnell. “It might come back, but it won’t be the way it was before.

“I wanted to have the same burning desire I had before winning and defending the world title. It wasn’t there, though. I admitted to myself it would never come back and that it was time to get out. I made the right decision.”

Somehow, despite offers to return to the ring, McGuigan managed to buck the trend and stay retired, even flourishing in retirement by carving out a career for himself as a television pundit and promoter. He never ran from boxing, McGuigan. Instead, perhaps because there was no temptation, or because he knew The End meant the end, he was confident enough to stay involved in the game and not worry about the possibility of being dragged back into its suffocating embrace. Better yet, he was able to keep it at arm’s length. He was able to stay vigilant, in control. 

As for Conlan, it remains to be seen whether he can now follow the path of Barry McGuigan and keep away. Doing so won’t be easy, it never is, but Conlan appears as well-set as anyone to stay true to his word and do what is best for him. This, after all, is not some rash, emotionally-led decision. It is in fact one Conlan, an intelligent man, has been considering for some time – a card he always knew was in his hand, ready to play. 

After losing back-to-back fights against Luis Alberto Lopez and Jordan Gill in 2023, the question of retirement had started to come up, asked not only by journalists and outsiders but those on the inside, too. Conlan himself asked it, his brother asked it, and others close to him asked it. That includes his daughter, who, according to Conlan, cajoled him into continuing by smartly using a phrase he had often used on her: “Are you a quitter or not?”

“If I was done, my own family would tell me,” Conlan said to me 12 months ago, before “comeback” wins against Asad Asif Khan and Jack Bateson. “They would say, ‘Enough is enough.’ My own brother [Jamie] is so close to me and manages me. He would be the one to say, ‘Stop it.’ He doesn’t like to see me fight because we’re brothers and it was the same with me when he was fighting. I didn’t want to see him fight anymore after a certain point. Even when I’ve been winning fights, he has said, ‘I don’t want to see too many more,’ because of how hard the fights can be at times. If he were to say to me, ‘Mick, come on, it’s time to stop, there’s no more here,’ then I would say to him, ‘Sure, no problem.’ 

“He has said that in an ideal world he doesn’t want to see me go through it anymore, but he also understands my reasons for carrying on and realises I still have something to give. He said, ‘If you want to go again, that’s up to you. I’m not going to force your decision.’ He knows I have a lot left in me and I also have something to prove to myself now. I’m not proving anything to anyone else. It’s just me.”

Back then, before it became a reality, retirement was an elusive, ineffable thing for Conlan. He knew of its threat, and could feel it breathing down his neck, but at the time he still had hope, enough of it to throw back and keep retirement on its heels. His defeats, to that point, were against decent fighters – with a reason or justification for each – and he also knew, within himself, that he had more to give. Or at least that is what he told the world.

“I’m very aware of boxing,” he said. “I understand boxing. I have been around boxing my whole life. It’s something I’ve been very successful in and I’m probably in the one per cent of people who have made enough money from the sport to walk away and be set for life. I don’t need boxing. There are so many other things in life. I started my own promotional company with my brother, and that’s now beginning to flourish and grow massively. So that’s one avenue I can walk into with no problem. I also have my own fucking beer which has been launched. That’s another avenue for me in retirement. Streams of income are plenty for me. It’s not like I’m dependent on boxing for that. 

“But it’s not about the money, is it? It’s about proving to myself that I can still achieve something in this sport. Who knows what will happen? Sometimes you can be right and sometimes you can be wrong. But why the fuck am I going to stop trying when I know I still have it in me?”

More impressive than the amateur medals, the iconic middle finger, the pro debut at Madison Square Garden, the big nights in Ireland, and the 20 professional wins is Michael Conlan’s honesty. That has always been the case, right from the very start, and it is something he will require now more than ever. 

Because although Conlan may not have got what he wanted on Friday, he did get what he needed. He got both proof of what he is missing and an invitation to leave, something not all fighters are fortunate enough to be granted. In fact, in boxing, you don’t so much get away as get away with it. You receive a sign, you pay attention to it, and you run – straight, fast, never looking back. Only by ignoring the signs does an ending then become sad. 

“I didn’t think I lost, but it wasn’t good enough,” said Conlan following Friday’s defeat. “That’s the simple fact. I’m 34 now, probably too long in the tooth. I thought I won, but it is what it is. I don’t want to do it no more. It’s time to say goodbye to boxing. 

“No matter whether it was close, or people thought I won, it wasn’t good enough. For me to be a world champion, I need to be beating guys like that and beating them well.”

Just before it starts to get cruel, boxing occasionally extends kindness and compassion towards the fighter mulling over retirement. It takes them by the hand, it points them in the direction of the nearest signposted exit, and it says “Go live your life, feel human again.” 

If that’s true, and kindness can exist in a cruel sport, it wasn’t a loss Michael Conlan was handed among friends and family in Belfast on Friday. It was the key to freedom.

 

SAN BERNARDINO, California – There was something appropriate about the clanking sounds of the metal chairs being folded up, the spilled beer being mopped and the cords being unplugged.

Because Lester Martinez is done appearing at rustic, worn boxing venues like the authentic National Orange Show events center here.

After his revealing performance in becoming Guatemala’s first world boxing champion by capturing the WBC interim super-middleweight title Saturday night on ProBoxTV, Martinez, 20-0-1, is bound now for the bright lights of Las Vegas, classic New York nights or a glitzy stop in Los Angeles.

Martinez defeated tough-chinned veteran Immanuwel Aleem by unanimous-decision scores of 120-108, 119-109, 118-108.

By doing so, he put himself in position to be next in line for the winner of mid-September’s WBC 168lbs title fight between new champion Christian Mbilli of Canada and Mexico’s four-division and former undisputed super-middleweight champion Canelo Alvarez.

The post-fight discussion centered on whether Martinez, 30, should view his victory with a tinge of disappointment for not stopping the 32-year-old Aleem, or if he was best served by improving his work over 12 rounds, knowing a bout with Mbilli or Alvarez is also expected to go the distance.

Mbilli, 29-0-1 (24 KOs), hasn’t been knocked down in 143 pro rounds. Alvarez, 63-3-2 (39 KOs), has remained upright over 532 rounds.

“That’s a very good question,” Martinez told BoxingScene. “The test for every fighter is to win by knockout. I understand I have to be cautious with the fighter we had in front of us. I’m a little disappointed, but I’m also happy, because tonight the key was just to get the victory.”

Martinez pummeled Aleem several times with heavy blows. His uppercut was effective. His left hand did damage. And his strength in absorbing some big Aleem shots and sending many more back proved he’s not bending either. 

“There’s always a benefit in going the distance. Aleem was game, but I was impressed with how Lester boxed, put rounds in the bank, made sure he won the close rounds … he showed some things in that regard,” Martinez’s ProBoxTV promoter Garry Jonas said. “You can’t knock them all down, so I think it was a good performance.”

Aleem landed lefts impressively, especially in the later rounds, and Martinez trainer Brian “Bomac” McIntyre told BoxingScene in an exclusive interview that he wasn’t completely pleased with the night.

“The kid could’ve done better … I was looking for the stoppage,” McIntyre said. “That’s what I wanted … maybe some of his technique broke down a bit. But I’m happy with the win.”

Claiming victory preserves the pole-position that Martinez owns for the Mbilli-Alvarez winner. The fact that he already went the distance of 10 rounds in September’s WBC fight of the year versus Mbilli is important.

“It’s a good experience. I saw some good shit he was doing in there during the Mbilli fight,” McIntyre said. “I only had to say to him two or three times in the corner to ‘Stay off the ropes, when you get there, turn.’ He was throwing pretty good.

“And he showed growth from that last fight to this one.”

Aleem, the WBC’s No. 14 contender, bit down on the proverbial mouthpiece while taking shots that would’ve flattened lesser men throughout the bout.

“I feel like I’m up for the sport. You don’t want to get hit, but it’s gonna happen,” Aleem told BoxingScene. “When most people get hit, things change, but not for me … .”

Martinez is due to return August 28 as part of the popular Guatemala “El Chapin” festival in Los Angeles, and then he will pursue the full belt versus the Mbilli-Alvarez winner.

Martinez said he would be pleased to both renew acquaintances with Mbilli and test himself against Alvarez.

“It’s important to both win tonight and be ready for what comes afterward … we know we’re going to face better competition, and those are some tough tests still to come,” Martinez said.

The banging of the chairs by the event center’s staff as Martinez spoke brought to mind Jackson Browne’s song, “The Load Out,” about his band moving on to another town.

Like Martinez.

“Now the seats are all empty/let the roadies take the stage/pack it up and tear it down.

“And that was sweet/but I can hear the sound/of slamming doors and folding chairs/that’s a sound [fans] will never know.”

Following the post-fight news conference, McIntyre told BoxingScene he’s not sure either Mbilli or Alvarez want Martinez.

“I think they’re scared,” McIntyre said. “If Canelo saw this tonight, he probably won’t take the fight, and we definitely know Mbilli won’t. I’m pushing for the fight, but I think those guys are chicken shit.”

One thing’s for sure: Those major fight locales that host Alvarez and others need to now make way for Martinez.

 

SAN BERNARDINO, California – Lester Martinez achieved history and a title of significance Saturday night, outworking and out-pounding Immanuwel Aleem to capture the WBC interim super middleweight belt.

Winning by scores of 118-110, 119-109 and 120-108, Martinez, 30, became the first world boxing titleholder from Guatemala, positioning him strongly with the interim title for the next shot at the winner of the mid-September WBC super middleweight title fight between new belt holder Christian Mbilli, of Canada, and Mexico’s four-division and former 168lbs undisputed titlist Saul "Canelo" Alvarez.

With a sellout crowd of his Guatemalan countrymen inspired by their extended national anthem, Martinez, 20-0-1, relied on his brawn and improving skills to subdue Virginia’s game Aleem, 22-4-3.

Martinez is expected to return to the ring in late August as part of the Guatemalan “El Chapin” festival in Los Angeles. 

The bout was preceded by a series of short fights, as the six bouts before the main event were over by the end of the third round.

Aleem started with activity, pumping his jab at the body and head in the first round, but that exposed him to a power left in the final minute after a hard right let Aleem taste Martinez’s ominous strength.

Martinez waited through two jabs early in the second, then starched Aleem with a right, setting in motion a round of brutality that featured an onslaught of power punches that severely slowed Aleem and left him struggling to defend himself.

Martinez went to the body and flung hammer shots with both hands as Aleem was reduced to displaying his toughness while absorbing a world of hurt.

In Aleem’s corner, his father-trainer, Omar Aleem, seemed to be urging a desperate response, but Martinez hurt Aleem with a massive right, freeing him to pursue with abandon. A rugged combination on the ropes was like salt in Aleem's wound.

To his credit, Aleem mustered a scoring combination to open the fifth, and an uppercut jarred Martinez, but the unbeaten fighter nodded appreciation and then sent back his own effective array.

An uppercut and two flush rights by Martinez again tested Aleem’s stamina in the sixth, and the veteran heartily pressed on through the attack.

Martinez accelerated the pressure in the seventh to fully test Aleem’s endurance as the veteran former Premier Boxing Champions product ate some rights and stood as if saying, “That’s all you’ve got?” at round’s end. 

A developing knot on Aleem’s forehead revealed the wear, and Martinez continued showcasing his useful and heavy uppercut.

Aleem promised a formidable outing, and by landing two hard lefts to start the ninth, he had fulfilled his word.

Martinez emphasized he was the better man this night by planting an onslaught of power blows on Virginia's Aleem in the round’s final half.

The extra rounds also permitted Martinez to flex the effectiveness of his left hand, which he leaned on in last year’s WBC Fight of the Year, a September draw with Mbilli.

Aleem showed Martinez he would be wise to shore up his defense against the left hand. Yet, Martinez’s granite chin allows him to exchange an opening for power shots that can turn a round to his favor.

For Martinez, it was also his first time into the 12th round, and the fact that he performed as freshly there as the early sessions is cause for some rejoice, given that Alvarez and Mbilli are renown for not going down.Lester Martinez cruises to wide decision versus Aleem

Lance Pugmire is BoxingScene’s senior U.S. writer and an assistant producer for ProBox TV. Pugmire has covered boxing since the early 2000s, first at the Los Angeles Times and then at The Athletic and USA Today. He won the Boxing Writers’ Association of America’s Nat Fleischer Award in 2022 for career excellence.

Carlos Adames made his third defense of the WBC middleweight title in dominating fashion Saturday.

Adames won a 12-round unanimous decision over Austin “Ammo” Williams in the main event at Caribe Royale in Orlando, Florida. The scores were 118-110, 117-109, and 117-109.

The fight started tensely. Neither fighter gave an inch. That could have been due at least in part to the frequent trash talk in the lead-up to the fight. Adames, a Dominican who trains in Las Vegas, was set to face Williams, of Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, in January, but he was hospitalized the day of the fight, causing the bout to be postponed.

The first notable moment of Saturday’s fight came from Adames, who dropped Williams with a straight right hand in Round 2. Williams appeared to buzz Adames with a wild shot when Adames locked in. After this point, Adames began to use calculated pressure, forcing Williams to fight off his back foot, a strategy that doesn’t particularly suit the front-foot power puncher. The fight showed a skill difference between Williams, seeking a big punch to turn the fight, and the more-polished Adames.

A right hand in the fifth round from Adames, 32, saw blood flow from the nose of Williams. Adames began to target Williams’ body in the sixth round, as Williams spent the majority of the round on the ropes, looking fatigued. Williams rallied back, but he wasn’t all that effective. Adames landed a left uppercut that rocked Williams in Round 8, and round after round, he continued to pressure his opponent.

In the final few rounds, Williams had moments when he landed big shots, but he couldn’t sustain them. Adames continued to bully Williams, knocking his mouthpiece out in the 11th round. In the 12th, Adames lost a point for a low blow to Williams. Despite the point deduction, it was a clear victory for Adames, who silenced any critics who questioned how he would perform after the 13-month layoff since he fought Hamzah Sheeraz to a split draw.

Adames, 25-1-1 (18 KOs), is unbeaten since his move up to middleweight, with his last loss coming to Patrick Teixeira in a junior welterweight interim title fight.

The 29-year-old Williams saw his four-fight win streak snapped, and fell to 20-2 (13 KOs).

Lucas Ketelle is the author of “Inside the Ropes of Boxing,” a guide for young fighters, a writer for BoxingScene and a member of the Boxing Writers Association of America. Find him on X at @BigDogLukie.

SAN BERNARDINO, California – Albert “Chop Chop” Gonzalez was hellbent on taking any mutual drama out of his Saturday night ProBox TV bout.

By delivering multiple flurries upon veteran Maryland fighter Brandon Chambers, Gonzalez delivered a TKO featherweight victory just 1 minute, 27 seconds into the first round at the Orange Show Events Center.

Gonzalez, 23, fought for the fourth time as his promoter Top Rank transitions broadcast deals from ESPN, which ended in July, to DAZN, which is set to start later this spring.

Following back-to-back scraps that Gonzalez, 17-0 (10 KOs), finished with knockouts at California shows in Long Beach and San Jacinto, he sought to set up a well-placed position on one of DAZN’s early cards.

He dropped Chambers, 12-5-1, with a combination, and when Chambers responded poorly after rising at the count of nine, the referee waved the bout over.

“Gonzalez was in two wars in previous fights, but he learned a lot,” Top Rank’s Hall of Fame matchmaker Brad Goodman told BoxingScene.

The bout was part of a card leading to the WBC interim super middleweight title fight pitting ProBox TV’s Lester Martinez, of Guatemala, versus Immanuwel Aleem, 22-3-3 (14 KOs), of Virginia.

BoxingScene will have full coverage of that bout later Saturday night.

Earlier, lightweight Samuel Contreras, an unbeaten Los Angeles product also on loan from Top Rank, flashed impressive left hands to the body to set up power rights to the head, quickly weakening Texas’ Cesar Cantu and finishing him by second-round TKO.

Contreras, 21, rocked Cantu, 3-6-2, back to the ropes in the second, and when the referee considered the volume of damage and muted response, he waved the bout over 1 minute, 9 seconds into the frame. 

“Sammy is very well-schooled. He’s got a great jab. He’s progressing very well,” Goodman said.

Bantamweight Luis Coria, 5-0 (5 KOs), pummeled veteran Lito Dante, 21-17-4, with body blows and unanswered combinations to the head in the second round, prompting the referee to stop the fight before the third round.

Coria, 19, from nearby Moreno Valley, trains at the Robert Garcia Boxing Academy.

Junior middleweight Kevin Ceja Ventura showcased his superior power and ring generalship while defeating Aaron Watson by three unanimous decision scores of 60-54, improving to 12-1.

Ventura, trained by Saturday main event fighter Lester Martinez’s cornerman, Brian “Bomac” McIntyre, landed a hard left-right combination to Watson’s head in the sixth round to both symbolize the bout and permanently discourage the Riverside, California, fighter.

The scheduled junior welterweight bout between Charles Harris, 11-1 (7 KOs), and Colombia’s Cesar Villarraga, 11-13-1 (5 KOs), was scrapped when Villarraga didn’t gain medical clearance, according to an official.

Lance Pugmire is BoxingScene’s senior U.S. writer and an assistant producer for ProBox TV. Pugmire has covered boxing since the early 2000s, first at the Los Angeles Times and then at The Athletic and USA Today. He won the Boxing Writers’ Association of America’s Nat Fleischer Award in 2022 for career excellence.

A formal announcement of Golden Boy Promotions striking an agreement with DAZN on a multi-year extension is said to be “forthcoming,” a development that further strengthens the streaming network’s boxing coverage.

Officials including a DAZN spokesman and Golden Boy’s Oscar De La Hoya did not immediately respond to messages left by BoxingScene on Friday following a first report of the looming agreement by Fights Around The World.

Another official told BoxingScene the deal was signed Friday.

Golden Boy’s past agreement with DAZN ended December 31, but the sides paired for two more California shows this year – a January card in Palm Springs and a Saturday show in Anaheim – as they continued to negotiate.

Earlier this week, DAZN – which already has streaming deals in place with UK-based Matchroom and Queensberry – announced a multi-year, non-exclusive agreement with Bob Arum’s Top Rank that is expected to launch later this spring. DAZN also offers Salita Promotions cards.

With Golden Boy, DAZN renews ties to the De La Hoya stable that includes new WBC welterweight titleholder Ryan Garcia, unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto “Zurdo” Ramirez, recent title challengers Arnold Barboza Jnr and William Zepeda and unbeaten lightweight contender Floyd Schofield Jnr.

As for the hopes that the deal could revive the Vergil Ortiz Jnr-Jaron “Boots” Ennis bout, two individuals connected to the situation say that while that bout still has the potential to happen this year, there is more momentum now for DAZN to stage an Ennis title shot at WBO/WBA 154lbs champion Xander Zayas on June 6 in New York.

The renewed alliance could, however, prove pivotal in the effort to stop the current legal battle between De La Hoya’s company and Ortiz and his manager, Rick Mirigian, who failed to find a way to make the anticipated showdown with fellow unbeaten junior middleweight Ennis, a recently unified welterweight champion.

Ennis, 35-0 (31 KOs), appeared at the November second-round knockout victory by Ortiz, 24-0 (22 KOs), over Erickson Lubin, and the pair engaged in a spirited discussion in the center of the ring, appearing to agree they would fight next.

After De La Hoya quickly touted Ortiz as the clear “A” side, Mirigian and Ortiz grew disenchanted with Golden Boy’s $3 million offer for the fight, ultimately reporting in court records that Ortiz could earn at least $16 million for the bout from other promoters.

The case has been sent to arbitration, with a September due date.

Striking a settlement, however, could solve the crisis, and the assurance of DAZN funds over the time of this new deal may be the action that heals the divide and gets WBC interim belt holder Ortiz back in the ring.

Golden Boy and DAZN have been aligned since late 2018, when Golden Boy’s then-star fighter Saul “Canelo” Alvarez debuted for DAZN at Madison Square Garden versus England’s Rocky Fielding.

The relationship includes both pay-per-view cards and smaller shows such as Saturday’s, which offered Barboza defeating Kenneth Sims Jnr, strawweight titlist Oscar Collazo defending his belt and women’s champion Gabriela Fundora defending hers.

Ramirez’s title defense versus WBC light heavyweight titleholder David Benavidez will be shown on both Prime Video and DAZN pay-per-view.

BoxingScene will have more on this news as events warrant.

Lance Pugmire is BoxingScene’s senior U.S. writer and an assistant producer for ProBox TV. Pugmire has covered boxing since the early 2000s, first at the Los Angeles Times and then at The Athletic and USA Today. He won the Boxing Writers’ Association of America’s Nat Fleischer Award in 2022 for career excellence.

LOS ANGELES – An adoring, heavily Guatemalan audience roared its support for the possible new WBC interim titleholder Lester Martinez Wednesday at a news conference staged at a multicultural center.

And that’s just the beginning.

ProBox TV founder Garry Jonas tells BoxingScene that Martinez, 19-0-1 (13 KOs), is targeted after a potential victory Saturday night in San Bernardino to return to Southern California on August 28 for a first defense of the WBC interim super middleweight belt that will be on the line this weekend.

The fact that Saturday’s show is a sellout event with a capacity crowd of 3,500 expected caused Jonas to remark, “I probably should’ve gone and got an arena, but we’re excited about the prospects for next time.”

Jonas said he’ll search for a venue near Lafayette Park in Los Angeles after trying for the 10,000-seat Toyota Arena in Ontario, California, this time.

The August event will be linked to the Guatemalan “El Chapin” weekend festival that typically draws about 100,000 people to Los Angeles, where an estimated 1.5 million Guatemalans reside.

Saturday, Martinez, 19-0-1 (13 KOs), is attempting at age 30 to become the first Guatemalan world boxing titlist.

“We’re already coordinating with [festival organizers] to make his August 28 fight part of the festival,” Jonas said. “We’re going to work on which arena downtown. It’s a great opportunity, and the Guatemalan fan base has really surprised me.”

In a wide-ranging interview with BoxingScene, which Jonas owns, the entrepreneur said part of what has fueled the fervent interest in Martinez’s Saturday fight versus WBC-ranked contender Immanuwel Aleem, 22-3-3 (14 KOs), is the success of Saturday’s early frontrunner for Fight of the Year, with ProBox TV light heavyweight Najee Lopez overcoming a cut at his eye and knocking out Manuel Gallegos in the eighth round of their riveting bout.

“You make fights and hope they come out,” Jonas said. “And sometimes they don’t. And then sometimes you have a little bit of good fortune. More often than not, we’ve been getting it right, and the fans are starting to take notice.

“For Najee to have that kind of performance the week before our biggest event, it just puts this event on steroids, so to speak. They’ve got a high bar to live up to, but I think they’ll get it done.”

With ProBox fights streamed live on YouTube, Prime Video and many other sites, Jonas will see his promotion quickly turn the page from Lopez’s gritty victory to this high-stakes bout for the promotion’s key fighter, Martinez.

“For every fighter, it’s their world, and we have to look at it in the collective,” Jonas said upon being asked if all his eggs are in the proverbial basket here, knowing two victories can move Martinez to a super middleweight title shot against the mid-September victor of new WBC 168lbs belt holder Christian Mbilli versus former undisputed and four-division champion Saul "Canelo" Alvarez.

“Fighters look at it in the individual. It’s a big fight for Lester, and he’s looking to get it done, to declare himself as the guy in the 168lbs division,” Jonas said.

“As far as we’re concerned, we feel the stable is strong. We’re rolling out a tremendous stable, and the fans are starting to take notice. Professional boxing is what it is. Some guys are going to win, some guys are going to lose. I’ve always told my guys, ‘Bring it, be entertaining, and you’re coming back.’ One loss here or there doesn’t change a thing. We match ‘em evenly, expect action fighters and we don’t worry about a loss.”

That said, victory is essential for Martinez to land the winner of Alvarez and Mbilli in 2027 after Martinez and Mbilli battled to a WBC Fight of the Year draw in September at Las Vegas’ Allegiant Stadium.

Martinez trainer Brian “Bomac” McIntyre told BoxingScene on Wednesday he has full confidence Jonas can move an unbeaten Martinez to the Mbilli-Alvarez winner.

“That’s a tough one,” Jonas said, laughing. “Canelo does what Canelo wants. He’s deserved that at this point in his career. It’s going to come down to Canelo. If Canelo wants to do it, it’ll probably happen. If he doesn’t want to, it’s probably not going to happen.”

First arrives Aleem, an older, more experienced foe who speaks confidently along with his father-trainer, Omar Aleem, about upsetting -1800 betting favorite Martinez.

“Aleem, I knew what he brought to the fight. It’s a big-boy weight division, where one punch can change everything at any time,” Jonas said. “Lester’s going to have to be at his best and continue to show his level. He showed a level against Mbilli, but in the first half of the fight, it wasn’t there. It was the tale of two fights. So we have to hope he comes prepared and brings his A-game, and if he does, I hope he’ll prevail.

“But I’m glad I don’t know he’ll prevail. That’s a ProBox fight.”

Meanwhile, with Jonas striking a deal with Japan’s Teiken Promotions for ProBox TV’s unanimously ranked bantamweight contender Katsuma Akitsugi to make a home-country debut April 11 in Tokyo versus Mexico’s Jose Miguel Calderon, he also shared news on two other ProBox lynchpins.

IBF featherweight titleholder Angelo Leo will defend his belt May 9 in Detroit versus mandatory contender and Michigan native Raeese Aleem in a card expected to be promoted by Salita Promotions and staged on DAZN, Jonas said.

Also, former junior lightweight belt holder Lamont Roach Jnr is in talks for a next fight that could be a WBC lightweight title bout against recent title challenger William Zepefa, of Mexico, Jonas said.

“By whatever day, it could be [Gervonta] ‘Tank’ [Davis] or it could be [Mexico’s Isaac] ‘Pitbull’ [Cruz],” for Roach, Jonas said. “Now, we’re talking to Zepeda.

“It’s just a complicated division with a lot of moving parts. We’ll have it sorted out during the next couple of weeks, but it could land anywhere.”

Lance Pugmire is BoxingScene’s senior U.S. writer and an assistant producer for ProBox TV. Pugmire has covered boxing since the early 2000s, first at the Los Angeles Times and then at The Athletic and USA Today. He won the Boxing Writers’ Association of America’s Nat Fleischer Award in 2022 for career excellence.

At today’s inquest in Stockport, England, into the death of Ricky Hatton, a coroner ruled that it was unclear whether the former two-weight champion took his own life.

Alison Mutch, senior coroner for South Manchester, did record hanging as the cause of death but suicide was not recorded as the reason.

Hatton, who had significant levels of alcohol in his system at the time of his death (more than twice the UK drink drive limit), was found on a pool table in his home on September 14, 2025. There were no notes, nor any evidence that his death was premeditated.

The post-mortem did identify brain changes consistent with chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a brain disease caused by repeated head trauma - surely a consequence of his illustrious career in boxing.

Several members from Hatton’s family made statements, all of which documented the former fighter being in a psychologically good place. However, there were admissions of occasional mood swings, confusion and forgetfulness, all common symptoms of CTE. Regardless, his death came as a complete shock to those closest to him.

His son, Campbell Hatton, disclosed details of his father’s troubles in retirement but added that he “was in the best place he’d been in years”.

Jennifer, Hatton’s former partner and mother to his two daughters, reported that Hatton had been in good spirits during a meal they all shared on September 12. He was making plans with his daughters for the future, including going out to see him box for a scheduled comeback in Dubai later in 2025.

Hatton, 45-3 (32 KOs), last fought in 2012 but should be remembered for his wonderful peak years when he became a national treasure in the UK. He defeated Kostya Tszyu in 2005, before he went on to beat Jose Luis Castillo, and then capture the hearts of the world with a stirring effort against Floyd Mayweather in 2007.