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A Master-Class From Orlando Canizales

He may have been overshadowed by the likes of Mike Tyson, Julio Cesar Chavez and Pernell Whitaker, but throughout the late eighties and early nineties, former bantamweight kingpin Orlando Canizales was one of the world’s best fighters and, in this writer’s opinion, is one of the most underappreciated technicians of all time. At his best, Canizales’ level of skill and technique were truly breathtaking. Here, I’d like to take a brief look at some of his technical intricacies that led to him becoming one of my favorite fighters to study and enjoy watching on film.
It should be noted that although I will be dividing this analysis into specific categories (counterpunching, combination punching, angles, etc.) some of the examples I’ll be using here are actually broad enough to fall under another category.
Counterpunching
Quite simply, Orlando Canizales was the epitome of a defensive-offensive fighter and nowhere was this more apparent than in his counterpunching ability. A master of parrying and countering, evading and countering and also simultaneously evading and countering, Canizales was highly proficient in drawing out an opponent’s attack and taking advantage of the resulting opening.
By placing his rear hand by the side of his head and away from his chin, Canizales has presented his opponent with an illusionary target (1st still). Taking the bait, his opponent throws a jab, only for Canizales to parry it down using his rear hand. Next, as his opponent steps in with a straight right, Canizales slips outside the blow (elbow side) and counters with a left hook to the body, sending his opponent to the canvas. By avoiding the right hand in this way –allowing the right hand to sail over the right shoulder—Canizales not only took away both of his opponent’s hands, but also created a perfect opening for a left hook to the body. This is counterpunching at its finest.
Here’s Canizales fading and countering with a right cross as his opponent’s jab is travelling back home. Notice how Canizales’ rear heel is raised. This does three things. 1) It allows him to sway his upper body back without having to move his feet, 2) allows him to push off his rear foot, giving him greater drive in transferring his body weight back onto his front foot as he’s throwing the cross, 3) it gives his opponent a false sense of range.
In this sequence, Canizales dips low, slips outside of his opponent’s jab, and counters with a sharp right cross. What I really like about this sequence in particular, is the way in which Canizales weaves out to his right after landing his counter right hand. Regardless of the fact that his opponent is kind of flailing with his counter left after being tagged, what this sequence shows is just how defensively responsible Canizales was immediately after punching. This is something Amir Khan should make special note of.
Here, using his rear hand, Canizales parries his opponent’s jab to the inside and counters with a double jab-right cross combination. Although the jabs of Canizales didn’t land with any real authority, they still did their job –forcing the opponent to back up in a straight line and to set up the more damaging, final blow of the combination, the right hand.
Let’s take one final look at Canizales’ superior counterpunching.
Here’s an example of Canizales using footwork and deception to induce his opponent into reacting in a certain way. First, Canizales feints with a slight level change (2nd still) before taking a half-step back (3rd still). As Canizales comes forward (4th still) and repeats the level change (5th still), his opponent reacts, opening himself up for a counter right hand in the process. By luring his opponent into committing an offensive action, Canizales created a clear path for his right hand. Again, this is elite-level counterpunching.
Entering
If a fighter can continually gain entry without being hit by his/her opponent in the process, chances of victory will increase considerably. Using feints, anticipatory upper body movement and imaginative footwork, Canizales was capable of breeching his opponent’s range almost at will.
Stepping in from the outside, Canizales dips low and feints with a jab. As his opponent attempts to parry the perceived low jab, Canizales counters up top with a right cross, then exits off of the original line of engagement. As I mentioned earlier, although I’m using this sequence as an example of Canizales’ ability to enter into range without being hit, this could also be seen as an example of Canizales’ counterpunching aptitude –feinting with the low jab to draw a rear hand parry, which in turn, leaves an opening for a right cross.
Again, Canizales is looking to enter from the outside. Up on his toes, Canizales suddenly drops low (giving his opponent the impression that he is indeed going to attack low) before connecting up top with a stepping-in overhand right. Notice how Canizales has taken his head away from the centerline as he connects. Should his opponent have attempted a counter, or indeed, decided to punch with Canizales during the attack, he would likely have missed due to Canizales’ superior positioning and his lack thereof.
Here’s another example of the same concept.
In this sequence, both Canizales and his opponent launch their attack simultaneously. Most of the time, a jab (boxing’s longest and most direct weapon) will reach its target well before any looping or arcing punch will. However, by taking his head away from the centerline, Canizales connects and forces his opponent, whose head remains static and upright, to miss.
Guard manipulation
In boxing, basic techniques will not land with any regularity unless a fighter can do something which forces the opponent to present them with openings. We’ve already talked about baiting an opponent into opening up by using feints and evasive maneuvers like slipping, but yet another way to do this is by hitting the gloves of an opponent from an angle (from the inside to the outside or vice versa) so as to, for a split second, create a small opening in which to land something worthwhile. Needless to say, Canizales had this technique down pat too.
Here, Canizales slaps his opponent’s lead glove to the inside, so as to create an opening for his own lead hand. Similarly to a rear hand parry, Canizales uses his rear hand to remove his opponent’s lead hand (opposite hand, but same side). The difference between this and a regular parry, however, is that Canizales is not actually trying to block or deflect an incoming shot. Rather, he’s trying to create an opening by removing his opponent’s guard.
Below, we have another example of Canizales manipulating his opponent’s guard.
In this sequence, Canizales fires his left hand upwards, knocking his opponent’s rear glove out of the way. With his opponent’s defensive guard severely compromised, Canizales fires in two more blows –a right cross and a left hook to the body (although not shown in the still, the latter blow from Canizales dropped his opponent).
Angles
One of the main aims for any fighter should be to acquire a dominant angle of attack over their opponent. A fighter will always have the advantage if they are able to take up a position from which they can hit their opponent but their opponent is out of position to hit them back effectively. Using masterful footwork that, quite frankly, ranks among the best I’ve seen in a boxing ring, Canizales was simply brilliant at taking himself off of the original line of attack before blindsiding his opponents from a different angle.
As Canizales looks to enter, he performs an outside slip, simultaneously parrying his opponent’s lead to the inside. In doing so, Canizales steps through, bringing his rear leg forward and to the outside of his opponent, securing a dominant angle from which to attack him from. As his opponent turns to face him, Canizales connects with a left hook.
Both fighters are looking to engage at close quarters. Suddenly, Canizales skips to his right, transfers his weight back over onto his left leg, and lands a left hook. Notice how Canizales’ opponent’s hips are pointing away from Canizales (3rd still), whereas Canizales’ hips are locked on his opponent. As far as fighting from an angle goes, this is just about as good as it gets.
Here is Canizales angling off his rear uppercut.
As Canizales steps in and lands a rear uppercut, he follows through with his rear leg (his right leg now replaces his left leg as his lead until he turns back the other way) and pivots his upper body back toward his opponent. This gives Canizales the superior outside position and allows him to hit his opponent with a left hook while his opponent is in no position to hit him back effectively without having to turn and face him.
With his back to the ropes, Canizales angles off his right hand (side-stepping to his right) then transfers his weight back over onto his left leg. In this more advantageous position, Canizales can throw a left uppercut followed by a right cross, just as his opponent is turning to face him.
Combination punching
Along with the likes of Joe Louis, Ray Robinson, Jose Napoles, Julio Cesar Chavez and Juan Manuel Marquez, I consider Orlando Canizales to be one of the finest practitioners of combination punching that I’ve seen (yes, I believe he was that good at it). Sure, others have hit with more power, and others may have rallied off their combinations with more speed, but in terms of economy of motion, directness, allowing each punch to flow naturally into the next and the thought process behind each punch, Canizales was one of the best.
Rather than use stills as I’ve done throughout this piece, I thought it would be better to finish off this analysis by highlighting Canizales’ combination punching using a fantastic highlight package by ZeffieTowers2. Although his combination punching features prominently throughout the video, the best examples of it (particularly punching around an opponent’s guard and varying the beat between punches), take place somewhere around the 4:08 mark. In fact, the video will also give you a clearer understanding of his tempo changes, sudden shifts and explosiveness, all of which are nigh on impossible to do justice using stills alone.
So there you have it. My thoughts on one of the most underrated craftsman that boxing’s ever seen. All that’s left to do now is to sit back, and enjoy a master technician at work.
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Sebastian Fundora TKOs Chordale Booker in Las Vegas

Sebastian Fundora proved too tall and too powerful for challenger Chordale Booker in retaining the WBC and WBO super welterweight titles by TKO on Saturday in Las Vegas.
Despite a year off, Fundora (22-1-1, 14 KOs) showed the shorter fellow southpaw Booker (23-2) that rust would not be a factor in front of the crowd at the Mandalay Bay Resort and Casino.
“I felt ready this whole time. I’ve been working very hard,” said Fundora.
Behind a massive height advantage Fundora jabbed away at Booker, the subject of an award-winning documentary called “The Boxer” in 2016. It portrayed his journey from nearly being imprisoned and having boxing as an outlet to success on the streets.
Booker tried to offset Fundora’s height but could not.
Fundora established his long spearing jab to maintain a zone of safety and when Booker ventured past the zone, he was met with uppercuts and lefts.
It was a puzzle Booker could not figure out.
Fundora won the WBO and WBC titles with an upset over Australia’s much heralded Tim Tszyu. Though accepting the fight within mere weeks of the fight to replace Keith Thurman, the fighter known as the “Towering Inferno” was able to out-fight the favored Aussie to win by split decision.
Nearly a year passed since winning the titles and the months without action did not deter him from stepping on the gas second round and overwhelming the shorter Booker with a blistering attack.
Booker tried to survive and counter but no such luck.
In the fourth round a right hook by Booker was met with a thunderous four-punch combination by Fundora. A left uppercut snapped the head back of Booker who was clearly dazed by the blow. Another three-punch combination and the fight was stopped at 2:51 of the fourth round.
Fundora retained the WBC and WBO titles by technical knockout.
“We were training to wear him down,” said Fundora. “I’m a powerful fighter. With this fight I guess it showed even more.”
The two-belt champion is now smack in the middle of one of the most talented weight division in men’s boxing.
“I would love to be undisputed like my sister,” said Fundora of his sister Gabriela Fundora the undisputed flyweight world champion. “
Other Bouts
Arizona’s Jesus Ramos Jr. (23-1, 19 KOs) knocked out Argentina’s Guido Schramm (16-4-2) in the seventh round of their super welterweight match. Ramos, a southpaw, caught Schramm with a left that paralyzed him along he ropes. The referee stopped the match at 1:38 of the seventh.
Arizona’s Elijah Garcia (17-1, 13 KOs) survived a knockdown by talented veteran Terrell Gausha (24-5-1) in the first round to mount a rally and win by split decision after 10 rounds in a middleweight match up.
Photo credit: Ryan Hafey / Premier Boxing Champions
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Bernard Fernandez Reflects on His Special Bond with George Foreman

Bernard Fernandez Reflects on His Special Bond with George Foreman
For pretty much the entirety of my career as a sportswriter, I have doggedly adhered to the principle that there is a line separating professional integrity from unabashed fandom, and for me to cross it would be a violation of everything I believed in as a representative of whatever media outlet I was writing for at the time. In 50-plus years, only once did I cross that line. It was when I was in Canastota, N.Y., for an International Boxing Hall of Fame induction weekend and I had submitted the winning bid in a silent auction for an autographed photo of the great Carmen Basilio, being hoisted onto the shoulders of trainer Angelo Dundee and another cornerman after winning a title bout. I have that photo, which also was signed by Angelo, hanging on the wall of my apartment.
I broke my self-imposed rule by asking Carmen to pose with me holding the photo because he was my father’s favorite fighter, and thus mine when I was a little kid watching the Gillette Cavalcade of Sports Friday Night Fights with my dad, a former pro welterweight and Navy veteran of World War II in the Pacific before he became a much-decorated police officer. Anyway, Carmen was long-since retired and I chose to believe that on the grand scale of professional propriety, my posing with him was nothing more than a small blip on a very large radar screen.
But with the shocking news that George Foreman had passed away on March 21, at the age of 76, it suddenly occurred to me that my idealistic principles have forever prevented me from having an autographed photo of Big George hanging on the same wall with the one of Basilio, which I no doubt will regret to my dying day. If I had bent my own standards of how a sportswriter should act in his dealings with one of his interview subjects, I might even have had one of George and I together, side by side, as is the case with any number of my colleagues who asked for and were granted photo op access to the famous athletes they covered.
Why do I now place George Foreman in a separate category from so many other elite fighters I have covered during my career? Had I not rigidly held to my belief that it was unprofessional and maybe even a bit unethical to cross that inviolable line, I might now have photos of myself standing alongside Muhammad Ali, Joe Frazier, Lennox Lewis, Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, Marvelous Marvin Hagler, Tommy Hearns, Bernard Hopkins, Oscar De La Hoya, Roy Jones Jr. and Felix Trinidad, not to mention such legends of other sports as Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Walter Payton, Wayne Gretzky, Wilt Chamberlain, Julius Erving and the quarterbacking family of Archie, Peyton and Eli Manning.
I had, of course, covered a number of Big George’s fights, but although he knew of me, it was not to the extent that he considered me to be a friend. All that changed, however, through the intercession of a mutual friend, boxing publicist Bill Caplan, whose relationship with George was longstanding and so deeply ingrained as to be almost familial.
My newspaper, the Philadelphia Daily News, had sent me to Los Angeles to cover a bout in which Julio Cesar Chavez was to fight Philly’s Ivan Robinson. Despite increasing pain, I somehow managed to file features on both main-event participants in the days before fight night prior to my arrival at the Staples Center in a condition that had gone from bad to worse. Bill noticed my distress in the press room and said he was going to get a ringside physician to check me out. “Maybe after the fight I came here to cover is over,” I told him, grimacing through gritted teeth. But Bill insisted that I get a medical opinion, and quickly, and the doctor who took my blood pressure said it was at a near-stroke level and that I needed to be transported by ambulance to a hospital ASAP. In the emergency room, it was determined that I was suffering from an unpassed kidney stone, a problem I had had several times previously, but not to this extent. I did not cover the fight I had come to see, of course, but I was able to make it back home alive and reasonably well before receiving additional treatment.
George Foreman did the foreword for my first boxing anthology, Championship Rounds, but he consented to do so only after he consulted with Bill Caplan to inquire if I was a writer who could be trusted not to twist his words to fit my own narrative. Bill told him I was a fair guy and that he should do the foreword once he had read the manuscript and deemed it worthy of an endorsement. It didn’t hurt that when I spoke with George by telephone, I remarked that he “owed” me. “Why do I owe you?” he asked, seemingly amused. “Because I bought two of your grills,” I replied, which drew the chuckle from him I had hoped to get.
More than a few of my colleagues at various media outlets can accurately say that George considered them to be his friends, but my relationship with him continued to grow. It didn’t hurt that I was on very amicable terms with his younger brother Roy Foreman, who lives just outside Atlantic City, and whenever I needed to speak to George directly he either answered right away or returned my call at his earliest convenience. I also don’t think it hurt that my father had once appeared in a primary undercard bout of a show in San Diego in the 1940s that was headlined by the great Archie Moore, who would later serve as one of George’s most trusted advisers. Before George’s very respectable but losing performance against heavyweight champion Evander Holyfield, the challenger confided that “Archie is the only one who can tell me anything. When Archie Moore takes you to the side to tell you something, you can’t argue because he knows. I can’t argue with Archie Moore. When he tells me something, I have to say, `Yes, sir, that’s right.’”
Maybe the only person George trusted as much as the “Old Mongoose” was Bill Caplan, and it was Bill who told his dear friend of the abject grief my family and I were enduring after my wife, who had been battling stage 4 pancreatic cancer, passed away on May 5 of last year. I would prefer not to divulge any details of something that shall forever remain private, but what George did in support of me and mine, and to honor the memory of a great lady who he never met, went above and beyond.
I included stories I did on George in three of my five boxing anthologies that already are in print (a sixth likely will come out this June), and I’d like to believe that our connection was solid enough that he shared the sort of insights that revealed him to be so much more than a devastating puncher inside the ropes. He was a quality human being in his everyday life, an individual who was widely admired and deserved to be recognized as such. But even if that were not the case, he would stand nearly alone for his ability to hit as hard as any heavyweight who ever lived. In recalling what it was like to share the ring with Big George in the epic “Rumble in the Jungle,” which Ali won by eighth-round knockout on Oct. 30, 1974, the victor said, “If you take any two heavyweights you can think of, and multiply (their punching power) by two, that’s George Foreman.”
Maybe Foreman might have fared better in that much-hyped bout in Kinshasa, Zaire, had he paced himself a bit more, but then that would not have been in keeping with his long-held belief that it did not pay for a powerful puncher to parcel his energy in measured doses.
“When you’re a puncher, it’s a real mysterious, almost magical thing,” he told me. “Guys who can’t punch, one thing they got to have is a lot of bravery because they knew they had to go 10 rounds, 12 rounds, 15 rounds almost every time. Punchers live with the fear if a fight keeps going another round, another round, they’re somehow going to lose. Every fight I ever had, I went for the knockout and nothing else. I didn’t really think I could win a decision. Even when I won on points, I felt like I failed.”
But even Big George didn’t have enough power to kayo the Grim Reaper indefinitely, although he might have dared to believe he could make that happen by dint of his indomitable will. After he won his first heavyweight championship, dethroning Joe Frazier by registering six knockdowns in less than two rounds on Jan. 22, 1973, in Kingston, Jamaica, the new king of the big men said, “All of a sudden I’m beating a guy like Joe Frazier, who could punch like he could and never stop coming at you? I left there thinking, `Nobody can stand up to me.’ I just believed that if I caught anybody with a right uppercut or a left hook, he’s gone. I could knock anybody out with either hand. It seemed impossible to me that I could lose.”
In posting a 76-5 career record with 68 victories inside the distance, Big George didn’t lose often. Now that he’s taken his earthly leave, I can only regret the fact that I didn’t cross that line and ask him to pose for a picture with me. I hope he somehow knows that I shall forever be in debt for the graciousness he exhibited toward my wife and my family when we needed just such a gesture not only from a legendary fighter, but a true friend.
Editor’s note: Bernard Fernandez entered the International Boxing Hall of Fame in the Observer category with the class of 2020. The greatly-admired publicist Bill Caplan, now in his late 80’s, entered the Hall in 2022.
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Results and Recaps from Sydney where George Kambosos Upended Late Sub Jake Wyllie

In his first fight at 140 pounds and his first fight in Sydney, his hometown, in more than eight years, George Kambosos Jr scored a unanimous decision over late sub Jake Wyllie, a fellow Aussie who took the fight on five days’ notice. Kambosos won by scores of 115-113 and 117-111 twice.
Wyllie, a massive underdog, had his moments, particularly in round eight, and scored a moral victory by lasting the distance. At the final bell, it was Kambosos that looked the worse for wear after suffering a bad gash above his left eye from an accidental head butt in round nine, but most observers were in accord with the two judges that gave him nine of the 12 rounds.
Kambosos, who improved to 22-3 (10), scored his signature win in November of 2021 at Madison Square Garden with a narrow decision over lightweight belts holder Teofimo Lopez. Heading in, the Sydneysider, a longtime Manny Pacquiao sparring partner, was considered nothing more than a high-class journeyman and, notwithstanding that well-earned upset, the shoe still fits.
Astutely managed, Kambosos parlayed that triumph into several lucrative paydays with another forthcoming as he is slated to meet IBF 140-pound belt-holder Richardson Hitchins in June providing that the cut is fully healed. Hitchins captured the title in December in San Juan with a split decision over another Aussie, Liam Paro.
A 24-year-old Queenslander, Jake Wyllie had won 16 of his previous 18 fights with one no-contest. He was a step-up from Kambosos’ original opponent, 37-year-old Indonesian Daud Yordan who pulled out with an injury. After the match, Wyllie said, “I fought my heart out tonight and I feel like I am destined for great things.” With his gutsy effort, he earned a contract from Matchroom promoter Eddie Hearn.
Co-feature
Queensland southpaw Skye Nicolson, one of Eddie Hearn’s favorite fighters, suffered her first pro defeat in the semi-wind-up, losing a split decision to U.S. import Tiara Brown who came in undefeated (18-0, 11 KOs) but hadn’t defeated anyone of note and was lightly-regarded. The popular Nicolson, making the third defense of the WBC featherweight title she won in Las Vegas with a wide decision over Denmark’s Sarah Mahfoud, was a consensus 8/1 favorite.
This was an entertaining affair. The scores were 97-93 and 96-94 for Brown with the dissenter favoring Nicholson (12-1) by a 96-94 tally. Tiara Brown, a 36-year-old Floridian, is one of several top-tier female boxers represented by Philadelphia booking agent Brian Cohen.
Other Bouts of Note
In a WBA bantamweight title fight, Cherneka Johnson successfully defended her title with a seventh-round stoppage of Nina Hughes. The one-sided affair was stopped by the referee at the 46-second mark of round seven with the assent of Hughes’ corner. A 30-year-old Australia-based New Zealander of Maori stock, Johnson advanced to 17-2 (7 KOs).
This was a rematch. They fought last year in Perth and Johnson won a majority decision that was somewhat controversial when Hughes was originally, but erroneously, identified as the winner. A 42-year-old Englishwoman, Hughes declined to 6-2.
Teremoana Junior, one of the newest members of the Matchroom stable, blasted out James Singh in the opening round. A six-foot-six heavyweight from Brisbane with a Cook Islands lineage, Teremoana came out with guns blazing and Singh, a burly but fragile Fijian, lasted only 132 seconds before he was rescued by the referee.
Teremoana, who turned pro after losing to the formidable Bakhodir Jalolov in the Paris Olympics, has won all seven of his pro fights by knockout. None of his opponents has lasted beyond the second round.
In a 10-round light heavyweight contest, Imam Khataev (10-0, 9 KOs) was extended the distance for the first time in his career by Durval Elias Palacio, but won comfortably on the cards (98-90, 99-89, 99-89).
Despite the wide scores, this was a hard fight for the Australia-based Russian, an Olympic bronze medalist whose physique is sculpted from the same mold as Mike Tyson (relatively short of stature with a thick neck hinged to a thick torso). Khataev had a point deducted for a low blow in round five and ended the bout with a swollen left eye. A 34-year-old Argentine, Palacio proved to be better than his record, currently 14-4.
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