by Terence Dooley
Leo Santa Cruz (125½lbs) was already well entrenched at 126lbs for his fight against Carl Frampton (125lbs) yet going in he had claimed that the 29-year-old voluntary challenger for his WBA Super World featherweight title would out-weigh him on the night. Yet his height and size belied this claim at Brooklyn's Barclays Centre when he met his opponent in the middle of the ring.
The 27-year-old former IBF World bantamweight and WBC World Super bantamweight title holder—titles he never lost in the ring—looked like a praying mantis sizing up its pray, an ominous sign for the man in one of two away corners in America tonight.
Frampton is no stranger to world title himself, though, as he came to American with his recently acquired WBA World Super bantamweight belt draped over one arm and his IBF title in the other. The WBA strap came into his possession courtesy of a split decision win over long-time rival Scott Quigg in Manchester back in February.
Against Quigg, Frampton moved and boxed well yet did not produce a prime “Jackal” display. However, many argued that was down to the nature of the fight; he opted to box assiduously and astutely against an opponent who was quiet early doors after suffering a broken jaw and only started to warm into the assignment as time ticked on.
His loyal, vocal fans have pointed out that the boxing world should have praised him rather than handing him a share of the criticism for a fight that, although interesting when watched live, was deemed a damp squid—an uninspired undercard did not help, either. Given that he was boxing away from home and tight at the weight, it is hard to argue against this viewpoint.
Not too long after annexing the two belts, Frampton announced that he had decided to meet Cruz at a new poundage, handing himself more wriggle room when it comes to making weight as well as sprinkling in the much-needed jolt that a fresh, novel challenge brings.
Criticism followed, but it could be argued that Frampton had heeded the early warning signs of squeezing himself down to too low a weight. Team Frampton opted to move up rather than try to drain down to 122lbs again to take on Guillermo Rigondeaux after the WBA ordered him to face the mercurial Cuban by July. Plus Barry McGuigan openly admitted that they did not see the fight as either economically or aesthetically viable.
Rigoneaux’s last fight was a two-round win over former British Super bantamweight champion “Jazza” James Dickens in Wales due to a lack of worldwide appreciation of skills that remain sharp despite him tumbling steadily into the vale of years coupled with a frustratingly staccato schedule.
The cries of “Duck” ringing out when he made what turned out to be a smart decision means that extra pressure was added to tonight’s fight. A rise in performance level would allow the popular Irishman to argue that is a different beast at his new weight and had made the correct decision by deciding to step up.
Indeed, the level of boxing he produced in the early rounds—threading home some nice shots with both hands—is an argument in the favour of boxing as close your body’s optimal weight as the current rules allow. Tonight’s early form from Frampton speaks to that point.
He was attempting to follow in his opponent’s footsteps in more ways than one; Cruz has journeyed to the top of more than one summit since picking up the vacant IBF World bantamweight title by beating Vusi Malinga in June 2012.
Clearly a fan of always looking forward, never backwards, he moved up a weight class following three defences and staked out his position in the new division by stopping Alexander Munoz in five for the vacant USBA Super bantamweight title in May 2015.
Cruz consolidated and crowned his place courtesy of a third-round KO win over Victor Terrazas in August of the same year before rattling off four successful defences.
More success followed, he hoovered up the WBC World featherweight crown courtesy of a split decision over Abner Mares in August of last year. As was the case previously, he had settled in at the weight via a non-title fight against Jose Cayetano (W10).
A five round dismantling of Kiko Martinez in February coupled with the Belfast-based boxer’s decision to move up in weight put the two on a collision course.
Although he only stands at 5’ 7½’’, the Mexican’s experience, 11-0 (6) at the world title level coupled with a 7-0 (5) record against fellow or former titlists (Lopez, Eric Morel, Munoz, Terrazas, Cristian Mijarez, Mares and Martinez), left Frampton with a daunting mountain to climb on his New York debut.
Frampton, though, travelled to England and came away with Quigg’s belt, so he has form when it comes to performing away from home and was showing that the nous he showed in his previous fight has been augmented by a dose of vitality.
Despite the promising early sign’s Cruz kept snapping out his shots throughout the fourth. Hurling them out like a line loaded with some quality bait snapping its way through the air, fittingly it allowed him to set up a few one-twos and snared him the round.
With Frampton primed and Cruz composed, it was easy to suppose that the fight would catch fire, but although there were a few smoking embers it wasn’t until a give-and-take round six that life was breathed into it.
“El Terremoto” landed some shots that shook, prompting a response. As was the case in the Quigg fight, Frampton had succeeded in taking his opponent’s main game away from him: Quigg’s come forward head of steam was not present early and Cruz threw fewer shots than you would expect in the early rounds.
It is fitting that in the home city of Jay Z, Cruz effected a bit of a takeover once he found his range with the jab, spitting out lefts in a bid to prevent Frampton from taking the fight in close or establishing his own rhythm.
Frampton, though, resumed his uncanny knack of keeping the champion relatively quiet, sometimes shifting his weight backwards in order cruise away from swings. Those who had expected a cruise for Cruz must have shifted a little in their sofas as he failed to establish consistent control over his opponent.
Those pundits and fans could sit a little more comfortably by the eleventh, as he landed some of his most effective rights of the night, visibly draining some of the pep and vitality from Frampton. Frampton had started to tired at a time when you need physical and mental energy to negate someone as high-class as Cruz.
Due to its rhythmic, skilled and well-fought ebb and flow, the fight was a soul brother to James Toney’s first meeting with Mike McCallum, although without Toney’s clearer explosions of power punching, and, like Toney, Cruz carried the final two rounds. Was it enough to overturn Frampton’s smart and controlled early boxing?
Referee Harvey Dock, in his second world title fight at the venue in the space of a year, had little to do due to the clean yet combatative nature of the bout. It was left to Guido Cavalleri 114-114 Frank Lombardi 116-112 Tom Schreck 117-111, who scored it 114-114, 112-116 and 111-117 respectively to hand Frampton a huge world title win in a second division.
Back home and in the arena, blurry Irish eyes are not just smiling, they are glistening with tears of unmitigated joy as Frampton said “I respect him an hell of a lot more after that fight” before adding “I won’t have to buy a pint for 20 years”. That’s not true, he will never have to pay for a pint in his home country for as long as he lives.
“I would love to bring him (Cruz) over to Belfast,” he added, offering his foe the courtesy of a return fight. Cruz wants it to take place in LA, but was receptive to a return in Frampton’s home city. “Let’s get on with the rematch,” was his take on the fight.
The result means that it is the former champion who loses his ‘0’ and falls to 32-1-1 (18 KOs); Frampton is 23-0 (14) and has plenty of options on the table after a memorable debut in the city that never sleeps, and will struggle to tonight when the travelling support hits the town.
Coda:
Boxing often gets it wrong, alienating those on the inside as much as it bemuses those who have not been bitten by the bug. Some have called it a cruel mistress.
It is more akin to a strangely sexless dominatrix who gets you hooked on heroin, which she herself supplies, and then more often than not hands you the equivalent of a bag of ground brown sugar.
On those rare occasions when you get the good stuff, you tend to stretch it out to keep the thrill going and the joy of watching it alive. Then you take a good one like tonight's bout in a few more times before discussing and reminiscing over a satisfying shared experience that keeps you going through the next fallow period.
The result—lopsided on the cards but fair—spread a little bit more of the pre-fight cheer that blossomed throughout the world of social media when both posed with their boys a few days prior to the first bell.
It reminds us that when boxing gets it right, it gets it very right and a sport that is hard to love enlivens its followers on nights like this.
A few more of them on, say, a semi-regular basis and even the most jaded amongst us may even begin to truly love it once again, albeit with a few provisos—you can never say never when it comes to #boxing.
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