By Corey Erdman

When you watch Vasyl Lomachenko fight, there's a whole lot to marvel at. There's his magnificent footwork, which makes it seem as though he's floating in the ring. There's his astute defense—not the flashy kind that makes you miss by a mile like a Whitaker or a Toney would have done—but just enough movement for him to get hit less often than any other high level fighter in the sport. And then there's the blinding handspeed, which materializes not just an overwhelming swarm, but also as concussive blows with every shot.

But with yet another dominant victory over a top fighter on Saturday, this time over fellow world champion Jason Sosa, what's most astonishing about Lomachenko is the scope of what he's accomplishing.

No fighter in the history of boxing has been held in this high regard—that is, possibly the best pound for pound fighter on the planet—this early in his professional career.

Now at just 8-1 as a pro, Lomachenko is battering, stopping and forcing the best in the world to submit when other fighters with a comparable record are making their ShoBox debut or fighting journeymen on off-TV undercards in Secaucus, New Jersey. As perhaps the greatest amateur fighter in history with a record of 396-1, he and his braintrust decided it was pointless to take the usual path and waste any time beating hapless opponents and squander his physical prime.

It's a strategy that almost every highly decorated amateur or converted Muay Thai star wants to implement, but few actually manage to follow through with it.

There have been fighters who have become world champion as fast as Lomachenko, such as Saensak Muangsurin, who nabbed the WBC super lightweight title in just his third fight. But even after he stopped Guts Ishimatsu in his ninth professional fight, by then his fifth title defense, he still wasn't regarded as one of the sport's absolute elite.

Though it wouldn't last for long, the closest historical example to the esteem Lomachenko has achieved this quickly is Leon Spinks, who in his eighth pro fight defeated Muhammad Ali for the heavyweight title. Spinks too was a gold medallist, and though his win was naturally viewed as a massive upset at the time, a victory over the sport's biggest star and consensus best fighter at the time made many believe Spinks was a future legend.

The closest modern example likely comes in the form of Lomachenko's contemporary, Guillermo Rigondeaux. Rigo captured a world title in his seventh pro fight, but perhaps due to a style less aesthetically pleasing than Lomachenko's, wasn't and hasn't been afforded the same opportunities as his Ukrainian counterpart.

What Lomachenko is accomplishing is unprecedented, but how likely is it that the opportunity for a comparably distinguished early career run presents itself again any time soon?

There is indeed a current trend of professional fighters moving faster than ever before. One need only look in Japan, where Kosei Tanaka and Naoya Inoue are dominating weight classes with less than or barely more than double digit fights as proof of that. However, fighters in the sport's most diminutive divisions are forced to advance quickly for another reason—making a weight that low is often tied to age. Melting down to 105 pounds simply becomes impossible at a certain point for most fully grown males. In addition, the lack of depth and North American visibility in such divisions often prevents even the best fighters at those weights from achieving standing in the pound for pound rankings until a significant tenure is achieved (see: Ricardo Lopez).

The most recent generation of outstanding amateurs have mostly moved quickly, including Lomachenko's countryman Oleksandr Usyk, originally trained by Vasyl's father, who by his tenth fight was already lineal cruiserweight champion.

In the soon to be released collection of boxing essays “The Bittersweet Science,” Michael Ezra, who edited the project along with Carlo Rotella, wrote at length about the phenomenon of boxers' post-primes. Ezra concluded that for reasons pertaining to time and money, very seldom do we actually get to see fighters in their absolute physical primes competing against other elite fighters at the same stage.

“While strong post-primes characterize the careers of many legends, there are those true greats who scale heights so monumental as to excuse their relatively short periods at the top, in boxing and other sports as well,” writes Ezra. “Baseball has Sandy Koufax, good for six seasons only, but of unquestioned all-time quality. At twenty-five years old, John McEnroe had won seven grand slams, the same number he had to his credit upon retirement. Gale Sayers played only five full years but set the NFL season record for touchdowns as a rookie and racked up astonishing prime numbers. (Sugar Ray) Leonard is boxing's avatar in this category, having established legendary status in the fewest number of fights.”

Leonard was able to do so thanks to a willingness to challenge himself right out of the gate, and also due to a historically strong era in and around his weight class.

Lomachenko might not look around and see Duran, Hagler, Hearns or Benitez, but he is looking for the best the world has to offer right now. According to both him and his promoter Bob Arum, his wish list includes Mikey Garcia, Terence Crawford, and an aging Manny Pacquiao.

The 29-year old has been able to reach remarkable heights this quickly thanks to his extensive amateur career, which for the most part, was fought with headgear. Nowadays, elite amateurs compete without it, and there is a growing impetus to turn professional sooner rather than take completely unprotected blows to the head for no money. This also means that the forthcoming wave of amateur graduates won't take the super fast track, as they'll have some additional learning to do on the job before going after top seasoned pros.

Lomachenko's era might be the last to take the expressway the way he is, and from his era, he is arguably the very best. As a professional, he is seeking the same distinction, but no matter what, history will show that he is already distinct from the rest. 

Follow Corey Erdman on Twitter @corey_erdman