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The year started with a quick one-two. Carl Frampton and Leo Santa Cruz engaged in an engrossing rematch. It lacked fireworks, largely due to Cruz boxing on the back foot and Frampton unable to cut him off. The fight was close but Cruz deserved to win, however, it was a scrap a division higher between the ever improving Miguel Berchelt and rugged Francisco Vargas that stole the night. The two warriors went at it from the opening bell and Berchelt eventually came out on top, solidifying his place as one of the very best super featherweights on the planet.
A week prior had seen a fight that should have defined the best super-middleweight but left more questions than answers .James DeGale, the smooth IBF title holder squared up against WBC belt holder, Badou Jack. DeGale started quickly, as he so often has done in recent years. Scoring a knock down and looking in control for most of the first five rounds, it was difficult to see any other way but a Chunky win. Yet Jack came back, time and time again. The twelfth round produced serious drama and DeGale, who seconds earlier had looked out on his feet, came back to end it strong. They shared a knock down and the cards.
As all this was happening, Mikey Garcia, a perpetual candidate for pound for pound, won a title at lightweight via brutal knock out. It was an exciting start to 2017 which only got better with one of the most surprisingly entertaining bouts of the year – David Haye versus Tony Bellew. The cruiserweight Bellew was supposed to be too small, Haye was supposed to be too powerful and too quick. It was clear the Livurpudlian had different ideas. He came out with a strong, sharp jab and even though Haye was edging the earlier rounds, it was not going to be the annihilation so many expected it to be. Then came the freak injury and Haye’s Achilles tendon ruptured. He flailed, fell and ultimately failed but not before six gruelling rounds of bravery. Haye had lost the fight but recaptured the respect he had lost years earlier.
There was no similar drama in the welterweight unification between Keith Thurman and Danny Garcia. The latter looked lost at times, bored and unwilling. Thurman cruised to an easy victory in a fight that failed to live up to the billing and the history. That was not the case when the two premier heavyweights on the planet met at Wembley. Anthony Joshua and Wladimir Klitschko brought back memories of the division’s heyday. Up and down the two went. Master and pupil, king of the jungle and the young lion. The crowd roared as Joshua picked up the win but they applauded the fallen legend, and rightfully so.
From then on, the promising start to the year dwindled and dragged. Saul Alvarez and Julio Chavez Junior engaged in a farce, obvious fights had obvious results and Kell Brook quit again. It did however provide the sport with a new, burgeoning star. Errol Spence, a big, bruising welterweight from the States (not too many of them these days) could well have become the standout name of the year but he did not fight again. In June we saw the much awaited rematch between Sergey Kovalev and Andre Ward. The two vied for light-heavyweight supremacy. In the end, they produced a sour, ugly affair. Kovalev at times looked disinterested although many had him up a point or two. Ward for his part looked sharper than the first fight but spent too long glued to Kovalev’s chest, his hands clearing pummelling below the belt line. An undeserved stoppage victory followed. Bitter taste in mouth? Most were glad the two fight farce had come to an end.
Speaking of a farce, Connor McGregor, the UFC star with no boxing experience apart from that “famous” run as amateur champion when he was thirteen, and Floyd Mayweather engaged in a desperate attempt to extract as much money as possible from as many fools as possible. The sport and its promotion hit a new low. Expletives were shouted in filled arenas, they labelled it promotion and trash talk. Muhammad Ali they were not, no matter how hard they tried. The fight itself was fairly entertaining, if only due to McGregor having done better than most expected. As most thought, his gas tank ran empty and Mayweather got the stoppage. The farce of the century had come to an end and everyone turned their attention to a true fight.
The middleweight championship of the world had once been the sport’s second biggest prize. Its holders had once been second only to the heavyweight champion in recognition. The division’s legacy and integrity now rested in the hands of Gennady Golovkin and Saul “Canelo” Alvarez. Both are entertaining fighters and exceptionally skilled. What could go wrong? What often goes wrong in a Canelo fight - the judges. It was not just that he was scored the winner on a card but the way in which it was scored. The crowd, his own fans, Mexicans, booed and jeered as the verdict, a draw, was read out. For his part, Golovkin had looked calm and disciplined but he never once looked like someone who wanted to take greatness by the scruff of its neck and say “I’m here”. The division’s lustre is lost unless someone new comes along or the rematch makes amends.
Amidst all that, the biggest news came from one of boxing’s least fanciful settings. Australia. Manny Pacquiao, one of the sport’s true greats, stepped in against an unheralded school teacher. Jeff “The Hornet” Horn buzzed about, big and brutish, laying into the once devilish Pilipino whirlwind. Some thought the legend had done enough to win but the only opinion’s that count, those of the three ringside judges, had Horn the winner. In my opinion, they were correct. Pacquiao had seemed a poor imitation of himself, slow, meaningless, at times unable or unwilling to go to a second gear. Horn filled in the gaps and took the old man’s mantle. He may be the most interesting and beguiling story of the year.
In a way, that sums up the year. Exciting at times, succeeding every now and then but always failing to live up to its billing. There were plenty of big fight names coming together but too few produced actual big fights. Most of them seemed content to be on the big stage, none of them wanted to snatch greatness, to run higher and leap farther. For a sport being lost in the shuffle, its best ambassadors failed to do their jobs. Only a few have come through with reputations enhanced, Joshua, Crawford and Lomachenko. The latter two may be the best fighters on the planet. In 2018, they must prove it, as should everyone else. The sport needs it. We the fans, deserve it.
Fighter of the Year 2017 – Vasyl Lomachenko
Vasyl Lomachenko won the public poll by a landslide, on the back of humiliating one of the most highly regarded boxers of our generation. His footwork, hand speed, boxing nous and ability was too much for Guillermo Rigondeaux, who did nothing more than hold on to survive and when that became too difficult, he quit on his stool. The crowd booed but not for all the effort Lomachenko had put in, rather they booed the yellow streak in a man who had just days earlier stated he would leave everything in the ring. In the end, there were two things left in the squared circle; you see, a boxing ring always tells the truth. Rigondeaux showed that years of not facing the best had eroded his heart. Lomachenko showed he may just be as special as his fans have said he is.
But what makes Lomachenko so good? Like all great athletes, he has an abundance of natural ability. Unlike other great fighters, his gifts do not lie in blistering hand speed, no, his gifts are those twinkle toes of his. A background in dance helps. Lomachenko glides around the ring, not quite Ali but good enough. His soles barely touch the canvas as he manoeuvres around the ring. Every movement allows him to let off a combination, which is unusual for most “movers”. Lomachenko has defensive skills but if this year has shown us anything, it is that he is not a defensive fighter. He does not move to avoid attack, ala Whitaker, he moves to initiate it.
A deserved winner of the award.
Fight of the Year 2017 – Anthony Joshua v Wladimir Klitschko
The stage was set. A warm spring evening. Wembley stadium, filled to the rafters. The legend and the young pretender. This is what heavyweight boxing had missed for decades. You could feel the excitement in the air, it was like electricity coursing over your skin, making the hairs stand on end. The stage was set. All that was left were for the primary actors to deliver and boy did they do just that. Anthony Joshua came out, stabbing with the jab, trying to set the pace but the wily old Klitschko, the younger, now more well renowned of the brothers, Wladimir, was having none of it. He pawed with his own jab and countered with polished left hooks.
Then it all changed, in the blink of an eye. Klitschko had been moving, floating like a giant butterfly but Joshua had hurt him. The young upstart had done what no one had been able to since the Peter fight. Left hook followed by a barrage of punches. Klitschko wilted, fell, his body limped to the floor. We’d seen it before. The hunched shoulders, the open mouth, the look of fear. It seemed this would be the end but he got back up. Those old legs, those giant trunks, picked themselves up off the campus and in the round that followed, he landed a punch so hard, it sounded as if a gunshot had just gone off.
The crowd grew silent. In the seconds that passed, no more than four, everyone held their breath. Ninety thousand people and you could hear a pin drop. Joshua got up. He smiled. Fight on.
It ebbed and flowed and as the young man tired, it seemed that Wladimir Klitschko would pull off the most improbable victory of his career and yet dreams do not always come true. This isn’t Rocky. Joshua landed a string of vicious blows in the eleven. One was an uppercut so vicious, many turned their heads expecting Klitschko’s head to be launched into orbit. Finally the old lion surrendered. Sagged against the ropes, hurt, discombobulated but still willing, he was stopped. On his feet. Not because he would want to, but because he had to. Just the way a legend should.
Knock out of the Year 2017 – Wisaksil Wangek KO 4 Roman Gonzalez
Boxing is often about the improbable but at times, it delivers the impossible. Wangek or Rungvisai or whatever name one chooses to call him, is that impossible. He went into the first fight against pound for pound number one Roman Gonzalez as a massive underdog. He came out the winner. A brutal, bloody, foul filled affair. The controversy was that most felt he had lost. Gonzalez had been the better boxer, we all said. In the rematch, Wangek made sure the judges and controversy would be history. He stopped Gonzalez. Out cold. Pound for pound. For sheer impact, there has been no result like it this year.
A week prior had seen a fight that should have defined the best super-middleweight but left more questions than answers .James DeGale, the smooth IBF title holder squared up against WBC belt holder, Badou Jack. DeGale started quickly, as he so often has done in recent years. Scoring a knock down and looking in control for most of the first five rounds, it was difficult to see any other way but a Chunky win. Yet Jack came back, time and time again. The twelfth round produced serious drama and DeGale, who seconds earlier had looked out on his feet, came back to end it strong. They shared a knock down and the cards.
As all this was happening, Mikey Garcia, a perpetual candidate for pound for pound, won a title at lightweight via brutal knock out. It was an exciting start to 2017 which only got better with one of the most surprisingly entertaining bouts of the year – David Haye versus Tony Bellew. The cruiserweight Bellew was supposed to be too small, Haye was supposed to be too powerful and too quick. It was clear the Livurpudlian had different ideas. He came out with a strong, sharp jab and even though Haye was edging the earlier rounds, it was not going to be the annihilation so many expected it to be. Then came the freak injury and Haye’s Achilles tendon ruptured. He flailed, fell and ultimately failed but not before six gruelling rounds of bravery. Haye had lost the fight but recaptured the respect he had lost years earlier.
There was no similar drama in the welterweight unification between Keith Thurman and Danny Garcia. The latter looked lost at times, bored and unwilling. Thurman cruised to an easy victory in a fight that failed to live up to the billing and the history. That was not the case when the two premier heavyweights on the planet met at Wembley. Anthony Joshua and Wladimir Klitschko brought back memories of the division’s heyday. Up and down the two went. Master and pupil, king of the jungle and the young lion. The crowd roared as Joshua picked up the win but they applauded the fallen legend, and rightfully so.
From then on, the promising start to the year dwindled and dragged. Saul Alvarez and Julio Chavez Junior engaged in a farce, obvious fights had obvious results and Kell Brook quit again. It did however provide the sport with a new, burgeoning star. Errol Spence, a big, bruising welterweight from the States (not too many of them these days) could well have become the standout name of the year but he did not fight again. In June we saw the much awaited rematch between Sergey Kovalev and Andre Ward. The two vied for light-heavyweight supremacy. In the end, they produced a sour, ugly affair. Kovalev at times looked disinterested although many had him up a point or two. Ward for his part looked sharper than the first fight but spent too long glued to Kovalev’s chest, his hands clearing pummelling below the belt line. An undeserved stoppage victory followed. Bitter taste in mouth? Most were glad the two fight farce had come to an end.
Speaking of a farce, Connor McGregor, the UFC star with no boxing experience apart from that “famous” run as amateur champion when he was thirteen, and Floyd Mayweather engaged in a desperate attempt to extract as much money as possible from as many fools as possible. The sport and its promotion hit a new low. Expletives were shouted in filled arenas, they labelled it promotion and trash talk. Muhammad Ali they were not, no matter how hard they tried. The fight itself was fairly entertaining, if only due to McGregor having done better than most expected. As most thought, his gas tank ran empty and Mayweather got the stoppage. The farce of the century had come to an end and everyone turned their attention to a true fight.
The middleweight championship of the world had once been the sport’s second biggest prize. Its holders had once been second only to the heavyweight champion in recognition. The division’s legacy and integrity now rested in the hands of Gennady Golovkin and Saul “Canelo” Alvarez. Both are entertaining fighters and exceptionally skilled. What could go wrong? What often goes wrong in a Canelo fight - the judges. It was not just that he was scored the winner on a card but the way in which it was scored. The crowd, his own fans, Mexicans, booed and jeered as the verdict, a draw, was read out. For his part, Golovkin had looked calm and disciplined but he never once looked like someone who wanted to take greatness by the scruff of its neck and say “I’m here”. The division’s lustre is lost unless someone new comes along or the rematch makes amends.
Amidst all that, the biggest news came from one of boxing’s least fanciful settings. Australia. Manny Pacquiao, one of the sport’s true greats, stepped in against an unheralded school teacher. Jeff “The Hornet” Horn buzzed about, big and brutish, laying into the once devilish Pilipino whirlwind. Some thought the legend had done enough to win but the only opinion’s that count, those of the three ringside judges, had Horn the winner. In my opinion, they were correct. Pacquiao had seemed a poor imitation of himself, slow, meaningless, at times unable or unwilling to go to a second gear. Horn filled in the gaps and took the old man’s mantle. He may be the most interesting and beguiling story of the year.
In a way, that sums up the year. Exciting at times, succeeding every now and then but always failing to live up to its billing. There were plenty of big fight names coming together but too few produced actual big fights. Most of them seemed content to be on the big stage, none of them wanted to snatch greatness, to run higher and leap farther. For a sport being lost in the shuffle, its best ambassadors failed to do their jobs. Only a few have come through with reputations enhanced, Joshua, Crawford and Lomachenko. The latter two may be the best fighters on the planet. In 2018, they must prove it, as should everyone else. The sport needs it. We the fans, deserve it.
Fighter of the Year 2017 – Vasyl Lomachenko
Vasyl Lomachenko won the public poll by a landslide, on the back of humiliating one of the most highly regarded boxers of our generation. His footwork, hand speed, boxing nous and ability was too much for Guillermo Rigondeaux, who did nothing more than hold on to survive and when that became too difficult, he quit on his stool. The crowd booed but not for all the effort Lomachenko had put in, rather they booed the yellow streak in a man who had just days earlier stated he would leave everything in the ring. In the end, there were two things left in the squared circle; you see, a boxing ring always tells the truth. Rigondeaux showed that years of not facing the best had eroded his heart. Lomachenko showed he may just be as special as his fans have said he is.
But what makes Lomachenko so good? Like all great athletes, he has an abundance of natural ability. Unlike other great fighters, his gifts do not lie in blistering hand speed, no, his gifts are those twinkle toes of his. A background in dance helps. Lomachenko glides around the ring, not quite Ali but good enough. His soles barely touch the canvas as he manoeuvres around the ring. Every movement allows him to let off a combination, which is unusual for most “movers”. Lomachenko has defensive skills but if this year has shown us anything, it is that he is not a defensive fighter. He does not move to avoid attack, ala Whitaker, he moves to initiate it.
A deserved winner of the award.
Fight of the Year 2017 – Anthony Joshua v Wladimir Klitschko
The stage was set. A warm spring evening. Wembley stadium, filled to the rafters. The legend and the young pretender. This is what heavyweight boxing had missed for decades. You could feel the excitement in the air, it was like electricity coursing over your skin, making the hairs stand on end. The stage was set. All that was left were for the primary actors to deliver and boy did they do just that. Anthony Joshua came out, stabbing with the jab, trying to set the pace but the wily old Klitschko, the younger, now more well renowned of the brothers, Wladimir, was having none of it. He pawed with his own jab and countered with polished left hooks.
Then it all changed, in the blink of an eye. Klitschko had been moving, floating like a giant butterfly but Joshua had hurt him. The young upstart had done what no one had been able to since the Peter fight. Left hook followed by a barrage of punches. Klitschko wilted, fell, his body limped to the floor. We’d seen it before. The hunched shoulders, the open mouth, the look of fear. It seemed this would be the end but he got back up. Those old legs, those giant trunks, picked themselves up off the campus and in the round that followed, he landed a punch so hard, it sounded as if a gunshot had just gone off.
The crowd grew silent. In the seconds that passed, no more than four, everyone held their breath. Ninety thousand people and you could hear a pin drop. Joshua got up. He smiled. Fight on.
It ebbed and flowed and as the young man tired, it seemed that Wladimir Klitschko would pull off the most improbable victory of his career and yet dreams do not always come true. This isn’t Rocky. Joshua landed a string of vicious blows in the eleven. One was an uppercut so vicious, many turned their heads expecting Klitschko’s head to be launched into orbit. Finally the old lion surrendered. Sagged against the ropes, hurt, discombobulated but still willing, he was stopped. On his feet. Not because he would want to, but because he had to. Just the way a legend should.
Knock out of the Year 2017 – Wisaksil Wangek KO 4 Roman Gonzalez
Boxing is often about the improbable but at times, it delivers the impossible. Wangek or Rungvisai or whatever name one chooses to call him, is that impossible. He went into the first fight against pound for pound number one Roman Gonzalez as a massive underdog. He came out the winner. A brutal, bloody, foul filled affair. The controversy was that most felt he had lost. Gonzalez had been the better boxer, we all said. In the rematch, Wangek made sure the judges and controversy would be history. He stopped Gonzalez. Out cold. Pound for pound. For sheer impact, there has been no result like it this year.
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