When first announced, the pairing of Jack Catterall and Harlem Eubank seemed like the perfect match. They were compatible, similar in their thinking, and they had much in common. They carried themselves with dignity, and whenever in the same room, they would speak with respect and were nothing but cordial.

That they had found each other and swiped in the same direction came as no real surprise. Though neither were desperate, Catterall needed a “rebound” fight following defeat against Arnold Barboza Jnr in February and Eubank needed a “big” fight, or just a known opponent, to elevate his career to that next level. They had, in other words, crossed paths at exactly the right time and were grateful to have done so.

On Saturday night, they met again, this time in a ring accompanied only by a referee. Now they were both topless, exposed. Now words were no good. Now Catterall and Eubank had to use their hands and they had to prove their compatibility as welterweight boxers. They had to prove that their styles could mesh as well as their personalities and try to produce something memorable, something perhaps worthy of a second date. 

Only that, it turned out, was too much to ask. Instead, no sooner had the fight started than all the red flags became apparent and we were reminded of their respective dating histories. Within minutes it became clear that Catterall was out of Eubank’s league and that there was a reason this, for him, was considered a rebound fight. Not only that, it became clear that their styles, both of which rely on the aggression of an opponent, would result in a date of uncomfortable silences and frequent clock-watching. 

It was, alas, just that kind of fight and maybe, on reflection, we should have expected it. After all, Catterall and Eubank were fighting no differently than they normally would, nor had either of them deviated from their game plan or even flattered to deceive. In fact, what we saw from both on Saturday in Manchester, England, was in keeping with what we have seen from them both before. Neither turned up looking different than how he appeared in his profile picture, and neither had told any lies.

Sometimes it just happens like that, unfortunately. Sometimes two boxers seemingly made for each other end up being all wrong for each other, and sometimes a boxer – in this case Eubank – finds the gap between levels too great to bridge.

That was certainly the feeling watching him against Catterall, someone whose technical excellence will have many opponents second-guessing themselves and wondering how to go about landing punches. Whereas before, when he was fighting on Channel 5, Eubank was able to use his speed and athleticism to close distance and do damage, all the same moves had no effect against Catterall. If he loaded up, for example, Catterall would detect this and step back. If he then went for it, and let it go, Catterall would effortlessly duck beneath the incoming shot and leave Eubank having to sort himself out and rediscover his stance.

There was a composure to Catterall that Eubank lacked, and this became both apparent and important early. Taking center ring, Catterall would measure Eubank with his jab and prod him with quick southpaw lefts whenever he spotted an opening. He had in front of him an opponent fueled as much by nervous energy as athleticism, and Catterall knew how to exploit this. He did so by making him miss and keeping him on edge at all times. He did so by controlling both the ring and Eubank’s movements inside it. 

That’s not to say the shutting down of Eubank was eventful, mind you. If anything, it was the opposite. It was surgical and it followed a pattern, from one round to the next, with no increase in either urgency or tempo. Instead, the only thing increasing as the rounds went by was Eubank’s desperation. That resulted in the fight becoming increasingly messy and led to numerous clinches and tumbles to the canvas. In the sixth round, which proved to be the last, both men would receive a warning to buck up their ideas from Bob Williams, the exasperated referee and the only man permitted to sit at their table. Williams, better positioned than anyone, could detect the body language of the two and would have sensed from the outset that this date was only going one way. He knew that when they were far apart, there were too many periods of silence, and then, when they came together, neither of them knew how to connect. They were, at times, like cars on an icy road: sheepish and cautious and one wrong move away from a collision. 

These collisions were more prevalent as Eubank struggled to land and, in the sixth, one particular collision caused a cut above Catterall’s right eye and a cut above Eubank’s left. No punch had landed, but blood had been spilled, and the true extent of the damage was evident once the round ended and both returned to their corners. 

In Catterall’s corner, there was a look of concern on the faces of his coaches, and also on that of the ringside doctor, who made their presence known. It then wasn’t long before a decision was made to end the fight and allow everybody involved to forget it had ever happened. They all shrugged, and the world shrugged with them. 

More than just a shrug, Eubank climbed a ring post and celebrated, despite struggling to win a round. It was, for him, a disappointing way to lose his unbeaten record – by scores of 69-66 (twice) and 69-65 after six completed rounds – but never was there any doubt, either that he had lost or that Catterall was a boxer too smart for him on the night. 

For Catterall, meanwhile, it was every bit as disappointing. For not only did he end up with a cut, which will require plastic surgery to mend, but he had seen this fight in Manchester as a chance to find some fresh momentum in a career so often hurt by a lack of it. In picking Eubank, he had got the right name but the wrong opponent, stylistically. There were hints, in Round 6, that Catterall might go through the gears and turn dominance into something decisive, but perhaps that is just wishful thinking. Perhaps, had it not been for a cut ending this one prematurely, Catterall, 31-2 (13 KOs), would have been content to outbox Eubank for 12 rounds and secure victory that way instead. 

Eubank, of course, claimed he would have prevented that from happening. He said after the fight that the cuts, as well as the spare audience, had prevented him from doing what he planned to do: stop Catterall late. Now that’s wishful thinking. 

Eubank, 21-1 (9 KOs), also went on to suggest that the pair could have a rematch at some stage, which was a suggestion no sooner shot down by the fight’s promoter, Eddie Hearn. He knows, as we all know, that there was nothing between them: no chemistry, no spark, no future. It seemed a good idea at the start, but it’s probably for the best that Jack Catterall and Harlem Eubank now go their separate ways and remain just friends. The kind of friends who never see each other again.

Elliot Worsell is a boxing writer whose byline first appeared in Boxing News magazine at the age of 17. He has, in the 20 years since, written for various publications, worked as press officer for two world heavyweight champions and won four first-place BWAA (Boxing Writers Association of America) awards. In addition to his boxing writing, Worsell has written about mixed martial arts for Fighters Only magazine and UFC.com, as well as worked as a publicist for the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC). He has also written two non-fiction books, one of which, “Dog Rounds,” was shortlisted at the British Sports Book Awards in 2018.