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The most interesting thing about Shakur Stevensons’ victory over Jeremiah Nakathila last Saturday was no part of the fight, which saw Shakur having no problem dominating his foe.
Yes, the 23-year-old did 12 rounds, but he threw too few punches, and too few of them came with bad intentions. It was so obvious that even the broadcast crew of Joe Tessitore, Tim Bradley, and Andre Ward began to critically dissect how the young gun plied its trade.
That string of questions heated up when analyst Mark Kriegel, who was in the bad weather and watching from home, texted Tessitore during the game. Basically he said Stevenson had to pick him up, or he risked being called a boring fighter.
Points in Kriegel to go there. It’s not like this group never comes up with real reviews of top talent like Stevenson, one of the top practitioners working under the Top Rank umbrella. But that discussion continued after the fight, too, in the post-fight blackout. Bradley especially did not mince his words; he even told viewers that he almost fell asleep during the main event, as Shakur was not bringing the fire, or signaled that he understands boxing is an entertainment business.
Shakur couldn’t have been happy when he realized the depth of the criticism leveled at him on ESPN.
Maybe you saw her post on social media the same evening, apologizing for a performance that didn’t get excited. I applauded him, it told me something positive about the pugilist. He admitted that he hadn’t done his best and that instead of retreating into a defensive shell, he reached out directly to people, those who will or will not make an appointment to watch his next outing.
But some time passed, and who knows, maybe he went to the DVR and replayed the fight. Stevensons’ Twitter account was filled with photos taken against Ward and Bradley for their criticism on Wednesday.
Many of you reading this will remember Ward previously directing Shakur, along with James Prince. We learned last December that Ward had ended that relationship. I didn’t remember there was a reason, so I looked around. I saw Stevenson had a chat with Smooth Vega and the host asked the fighter about the split. Stevenson didn’t give him anything, replying that the reason for the split is something you should ask Ward.
Other than that, I found it refreshing to hear the team of announcers be honest and not pretend everything was okay as it usually happens.
I was surprised, however, that Shakur went from apologizing to approving shots at ESPN dissectors, as it made it look like he was backtracking on his apology.
Some people will weigh in and say that Shakur’s reaction is his business, and that he can fight very well however he wants. Indeed; he can do whatever he wants on social media, and I agree, he can fight however he wants. But I will now repeat my night vision of the method of operations in a price fight. Like the vast majority of boxing fans, I am an attacking contender. I enjoy the art of defending, but the fighters who spend most rounds using the opposite of a hit and don’t get a hit strategy are the ones I enjoy seeing in action the most. .
It is more and more fashionable to brag about how much you love the skills that you pay the bills of stylists who are loath to fall into a business model. This is in part related to the rise of opposing positions on social media which are more likely to gain attention and traffic than dominant views.
But it’s more complex than that, as fighters these days are more likely to use a defense-focused game plan and brag about it. The effects of repeated brain trauma are so widely reported that it’s less of a badge of honor to be the guy who’s the shameless scolder, the guy who takes two to give one. And that’s part of the reason I’m less likely than over 10 years ago to express my preference for those who take the risk in order to have a better chance of throwing thunder at an enemy.
Now is the time, I think, to discuss the matter further, and perhaps to get more clarity on the front page. Boxing is not for everyone. But it is even less for those whose style reflects a desire to avoid contact, not to be hit hard.
I tried to [get him out of there] a little bit, but I started to get hit with solid shots, Stevenson said just after raising his hand. I don’t really like it, but next time I’m going to work on moving my head a bit more and stepping it up a bit more.
That would be nice, as Shakur didn’t throw more than 35 punches in a single round. In five of the rounds, he did not throw more than 25 punches. And while we’re at it, let’s not absolve Nakathila of her role in this sub-classic. During the week, he promised to bring it to Shakur. According to CompuBox, Nakathila threw 20 or more powerful punches in just two of the 12 rounds. The man promised to bring the big guns, and he introduced himself wielding a SuperSoaker.
I don’t need every fight I watch to sound like Gatti-Ward, but Stevenson-Nakathila’s volume was deplorable. They barely broke 600 punches thrown between the two of them. If this level of performance, with such lack of offense, is not recognized and discouraged by analysts, then the sport as a whole engages in self-defeating falsehood.
Many boxing fans can appreciate and appreciate the more subtle artistry of breakout-centric pugilism. But the vast majority log on to see fights, not just to marvel at the magic of an artist faced with a vastly inferior opponent who decides to dominate with defense.
Seeing 12 laps of Shakur Stevenson playing with his food isn’t a master class, it’s a self-indulgent and tedious exercise that contributes to the stagnation of the sport.
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