HOW HE DID IT Mayweather's Mastery Explained

Published

12 years ago

September 19, 2013

Lee Wylie

Floyd Mayweather moved one step closer towards finishing his professional boxing career with an unbeaten record after clearly outpointing Saul “Canelo” Alvarez in what was the biggest boxing event of 2013 on Saturday night.

Prior to the fight, I believed Canelo's intelligence, size, power, patience, and explosiveness were destined to give Floyd his toughest outing since narrowly escaping with a “unanimous decision win” over Jose Luis Castillo back in 2002.

More than that, I did the unthinkable and picked Canelo to “shock the boxing world” and pull off an upset for the ages.

I was wrong.

Instead, it was more of the same for Floyd—and for all of us sitting watching at home or at ringside—as he routinely boxed his way to a majority decision victory in a fight devoid of any real action or drama. While Alvarez always carried the punch that could have potentially ended the fight at any given moment, he never really came close to breaking down Mayweather’s nonporous defense at any stage during the night.

Although it was far from a career best performance (as some have rashly claimed), Mayweather did put forth a quite beautiful display of boxing that included many of the nuances that set him apart from every single one of his current peers at the moment.

Very briefly then, rather than simply regurgitate many of Mayweather’s signature techniques and tendencies (i.e. rolling of the lead shoulder, fade counter etc.) that I previously discussed in part one of my two part pre-fight analysis, I shall instead be focusing on some of the more subtle features of Mayweather’s game that quite often go unnoticed.

Today I shall be taking a look at Floyd Mayweather’s understanding of range and his probing jab.

Often it is said that success in any endeavor depends upon being in the right place at the right time. This is especially true in boxing. Even if one knows thousands of techniques and can execute each one flawlessly, none will be of any use if they fail to reach the intended target.

When watching Mayweather in the ring, most seem to believe they are witnessing nothing but outrageous speed and reflexes, but the truth is that while Floyd has both of these in abundance, his dominance in the ring comes down to a mastery of what I believe to be—along with timing—the most important aspect of boxing: control of range.

Mayweather knows precisely how to position himself so that his attacks have the greatest probability of landing on his opponent. More importantly, he also knows how to position himself so that his opponent’s attacks have the least probability of landing on him.

Being able to manage distance in a fight doesn’t necessarily mean one must always keep the opponent on the outside. While this is obviously true if one is looking to keep the opponent on the end of a jab all night long, controlling the range of a fight can also have an adverse meaning.

A lot of people tend to think of staying out of range as being the safest place to be inside a boxing ring. Obviously being out of range is a good defensive measure, but in doing so, one may inadvertently place one’s self on the very end of the opponent’s punch, where it does the most damage. For example, because speed and power need room to generate, I’d consider being on the inside with Thomas Hearns a far safer place to be in as opposed to loitering on the outside where the difference between being out of range and being on the end of a right cross is just one short step.

This is where Mayweather’s appreciation of ring placement truly comes into its own.

Many criticized Canelo for employing a strategy that seemingly neglected his natural advantages in size and weight. However, for anyone who had seen him fight before, it was obvious that his best and most dangerous work was done at mid-range when throwing his imaginative combinations and when looking to land counters.

Instead of using his footwork to keep Canelo mobile and from getting set (which he did later on in the fight after Canelo began pressing the attack once he realized he wasn’t quick enough to try and counter Floyd in center ring), Mayweather spent the first part of the fight standing right in front of his man. From the opening bell, it was apparent that Mayweather’s initial plan was to get off first and restrict Alvarez’s ability to throw anything back in return. Slightly out of range, Mayweather would edge forward before connecting with either a jab or right hand lead, and then immediately force a clinch to prevent Alvarez from retaliating.

Mayweather searches for openings in Canelo’s guard.

Floyd threads a jab between Canelo’s gloves.

Anticipating Canelo’s counter, Floyd ducks underneath…

…and holds on, forcing the referee to intervene.

Mayweather continued to land stiff jabs and right hand leads on Alvarez. Most had expected Floyd to be on his back foot from the very beginning, but here he was, inching forward, getting off first, and smothering any chance Canelo had of throwing an effective counter—a tactic that nullified Canelo’s A-game and put a huge dent in his early confidence.

Mayweather closes in on Canelo.

Mayweather lands a straight right hand…

…then immediately dives underneath…

…and forces Canelo to hold.

Never really coming to terms with Floyd’s constant flirtation with the pocket, Alvarez always found Mayweather either too far away to be hit, or too close to be hit with his best weapons. Essentially, this was the story of the fight.

Alvarez is looking to create an opening.

Reacting to Canelo’s feint, Floyd pushes off his front foot and moves out of range.

Mayweather advances forward and re-enters the pocket.

Just as Canelo is thinking about going on the offensive, Mayweather lands a jab…

…instantly ducks underneath…

…and falls into a clinch, thus preventing any attempted counter or further attack from Alvarez.

In his treatise on boxing Championship Fighting: Explosive Punching and Aggressive Defense Jack Dempsey strongly emphasized that when it comes to the jab, the lead hand should be reserved almost exclusively for delivering what he termed “lead jolts” and should never be used for “fluffing” jabs that are used to “tap, slap, flick, paw or paint”.

Well sorry, Mr. Dempsey, but as Floyd has shown during many of his most recent outings, a light, non-contact “probing” jab can be a great way to offset the opponent’s timing and create openings.

What I find truly astonishing is that the world’s greatest pound-for-pound fighter is still evolving, becoming more and more unorthodox with each passing fight.

Floyd will, of course, step in behind a regular jab and use it for its typical purpose—to establish range and prevent the opponent from getting to the inside position—but Floyd now regularly uses a “blinding” or “flicker” jab (the terminology is far from universal) to occupy and manipulate his opponent’s guard in order to set up his straight rights and left hooks, of which, nobody seems to be able to defend against.

For further reading on Mayweather’s probing lead hand I suggest reading my post fight analysis on the Floyd Mayweather-Robert Guerrero fight. http://www.tss.ib.tv/news/articles-frontpage/16611-how-he-did-it-mayweathers-scintillating-display

Here is an example of Mayweather using his lead hand to serve as a distraction for his body jab, which in turn, is used to set up a follow-up attack:

Mayweather and Alvarez are posturing in the center of the ring.

Floyd distracts Canelo with a “blinding” jab.

Floyd drops low and lands a body jab. Notice how Canelo has lowered his guard to try and stuff it.

Mayweather takes advantage of Canelo’s low guard by following up with a right hand to the head.

Mayweather’s entrancing lead hand continued to befuddle Alvarez throughout the fight. Below is an example of Mayweather tapping Alvarez on the head, so that when Canelo retaliates, he affords Mayweather with a momentary opening that he can exploit.

Mayweather looks to distract Canelo with his lead hand.

Floyd touches the top of Canelo’s head with an extended lead glove.

Reacting to Mayweather’s unusual tactic, Canelo angrily swipes Mayweather’s lead glove away.

Mayweather takes advantage of Canelo’s defensive lapse and connects with a right hand down the middle.

Regardless of who he has ever fought or sparred with, I can guarantee that young Canelo will have never had anyone dare to stand right in front of him and try to tap him on the gloves or head in an attempt to pry open his guard. Below is yet another example of Mayweather’s antagonizing lead hand tactics.

Mayweather and Canelo are looking for openings.

Mayweather touches Canelo’s rear hand with his lead glove.

This time, Mayweather touches Canelo’s lead hand with his lead glove.

Taking the bait, Canelo tries to swat down Mayweather’s lead hand…

…and gets nailed with a hard right.

As these examples clearly illustrate, much of what Mayweather does inside the ring is just as much mental as it is physical. Floyd's unorthodoxy along with his elite level timing and understanding of range makes him nigh on impossible for today’s fighters to try and fathom out.

Right now, Mayweather looks as close to unbeatable as one can possibly get. Because of what is currently out there at the moment, it doesn’t look like his “0” will be going anywhere anytime soon.

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Lee Wylie

Thomas Hauser’s Literary Notes: Johnny Greaves Tells a Sad Tale

Published

2 days ago

May 11, 2025

Thomas Hauser

Johnny Greaves was a professional loser. He had one hundred professional fights between 2007 and 2013, lost 96 of them, scored one knockout, and was stopped short of the distance twelve times. There was no subtlety in how his role was explained to him: “Look, Johnny; professional boxing works two ways. You’re either a ticket-seller and make money for the promoter, in which case you get to win fights. If you don’t sell tickets but can look after yourself a bit, you become an opponent and you fight to lose.”

By losing, he could make upwards of one thousand pounds for a night‘s work.

Greaves grew up with an alcoholic father who beat his children and wife. Johnny learned how to survive the beatings, which is what his career as a fighter would become. He was a scared, angry, often violent child who was expelled from school and found solace in alcohol and drugs.

The fighters Greaves lost to in the pros ran the gamut from inept local favorites to future champions Liam Walsh, Anthony Crolla, Lee Selby, Gavin Rees, and Jack Catterall. Alcohol and drugs remained constants in his life. He fought after drinking, smoking weed, and snorting cocaine on the night before – and sometimes on the day of – a fight. On multiple occasions, he came close to committing suicide. His goal in boxing ultimately became to have one hundred professional fights.

On rare occasions, two professional losers – “journeymen,” they’re called in The UK – are matched against each other. That was how Greaves got three of the four wins on his ledger. On September 29, 2013, he fought the one hundredth and final fight of his career against Dan Carr in London’s famed York Hall. Carr had a 2-42-2 ring record and would finish his career with three wins in ninety outings. Greaves-Carr was a fight that Johnny could win. He emerged triumphant on a four-round decision.

The Johnny Greaves Story, told by Greaves with the help of Adam Darke (Pitch Publishing) tells the whole sordid tale. Some of Greaves’s thoughts follow:

* “We all knew why we were there, and it wasn’t to win. The home fighters were the guys who had sold all the tickets and were deemed to have some talent. We were the scum. We knew our role. Give some young prospect a bit of a workout, keep out of the way of any big shots, lose on points but take home a wedge of cash, and fight again next week.”

* “If you fought too hard and won, then you wouldn’t get booked for any more shows. If you swung for the trees and got cut or knocked out, then you couldn’t fight for another 28 days. So what were you supposed to do? The answer was to LOOK like you were trying to win but be clever in the process. Slip and move, feint, throw little shots that were rangefinders, hold on, waste time. There was an art to this game, and I was quickly learning what a cynical business it was.”

* “The unknown for the journeyman was always how good your opponent might be. He could be a future world champion. Or he might be some hyped-up nightclub bouncer with a big following who was making lots of money for the promoter.”

* “No matter how well I fought, I wasn’t going to be getting any decisions. These fights weren’t scored fairly. The referees and judges understood who the paymasters were and they played the game. What was the point of having a go and being the best version of you if nobody was going to recognize or reward it?”

* “When I first stepped into the professional arena, I believed I was tough. believed that nobody could stop me. But fight by fight, those ideas were being challenged and broken down. Once you know that you can be hurt, dropped and knocked out, you’re never quite the same fighter.”

* “I had started off with a dream, an idea of what boxing was and what it would do for me. It was going to be a place where I could prove my toughness. A place that I could escape to and be someone else for a while. For a while, boxing was that place. But it wore me down to the point that I stopped caring. I’d grown sick and tired of it all. I wished that I could feel pride at what I’d achieved. But most of the time, I just felt like a loser.”

* “The fights were getting much more difficult, the damage to my body and my psyche taking longer and longer to repair after each defeat. I was putting myself in more and more danger with each passing fight. I was getting hurt more often and stopped more regularly. Even with the 28-day [suspensions], I didn’t have time to heal. I was staggering from one fight to the next and picking up more injuries along the way.”

* “I was losing my toughness and resilience. When that’s all you’ve ever had, it’s a hard thing to accept. Drink and drugs had always been present in my life. But now they became a regular part of my pre-fight preparation. It helped to shut out the fear and quieted the thoughts and worries that I shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

* “My body was broken. My hands were constantly sore with blisters and cuts. I had early arthritis in my hip and my teeth were a mess. I looked an absolute state and inside I felt worse. But I couldn’t stop fighting yet. Not before the 100.”

* “I had abused myself time after time and stood in front of better men, taking a beating when I could have been sensible and covered up. At the start, I was rarely dropped or stopped. Now it was becoming a regular part of the game. Most of the guys I was facing were a lot better than me. This was mainly about survival.”

* “Was my brain f***ed from taking too many punches? I knew it was, to be honest. I could feel my speech changing and memory going. I was mentally unwell and shouldn’t have been fighting but the promoters didn’t care. Johnny Greaves was still a good booking. Maybe an even better one now that he might get knocked out.”

* “Nobody gave a f*** about me and whether I lived or died. I didn’t care about that much either. But the thought of being humiliated, knocked out in front of all those people; that was worse than the thought of dying. The idea of being exposed for what I was – a nobody.”

* “I was a miserable bastard in real life. A depressive downbeat mouthy little f***er. Everything I’ve done has been to mask the feeling that I’m worthless. That I have no value. The drinks and the drugs just helped me to forget that for a while. I still frighten myself a lot. My thoughts scare me. Do I really want to be here for the next thirty or forty years? I don’t know. If suicide wasn’t so impactful on people around you, I would have taken that leap. I don’t enjoy life and never have.”

So . . . Any questions?

****

Steve Albert was Showtime’s blow-by-blow commentator for two decades. But his reach extended far beyond boxing.

Albert’s sojourn through professional sports began in high school when he was a ball boy for the New York Knicks. Over the years, he was behind the microphone for more than a dozen teams in eleven leagues including four NBA franchises.

Putting the length of that trajectory in perspective . . . As a ballboy, Steve handed bottles of water and towels to a Knicks back-up forward named Phil Jackson. Later, they worked together as commentators for the New Jersey Nets. Then Steve provided the soundtrack for some of Jackson’s triumphs when he won eleven NBA championships as head coach of the Chicago Bulls and Los Angeles Lakers.

It’s also a matter of record that Steve’s oldest brother, Marv, was arguably the greatest play-by-play announcer in NBA history. And brother Al enjoyed a successful career behind the microphone after playing professional hockey.

Now Steve has written a memoir titled A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Broadcast Booth. Those who know him know that Steve doesn’t like to say bad things about people. And he doesn’t here. Nor does he delve into the inner workings of sports media or the sports dream machine. The book is largely a collection of lighthearted personal recollections, although there are times when the gravity of boxing forces reflection.

“Fighters were unlike any other professional athletes I had ever encountered,” Albert writes. “Many were products of incomprehensible backgrounds, fiercely tough neighborhoods, ghettos and, in some cases, jungles. Some got into the sport because they were bullied as children. For others, boxing was a means of survival. In many cases, it was an escape from a way of life that most people couldn’t even fathom.”

At one point, Steve recounts a ringside ritual that he followed when he was behind the microphone for Showtime Boxing: “I would precisely line up my trio of beverages – coffee, water, soda – on the far edge of the table closest to the ring apron. Perhaps the best advice I ever received from Ferdie [broadcast partner Ferdie Pacheco] was early on in my blow-by-blow career – ‘Always cover your coffee at ringside with an index card unless you like your coffee with cream, sugar, and blood.’”

Writing about the prelude to the infamous Holyfield-Tyson “bite fight,” Albert recalls, “I remember thinking that Tyson was going to do something unusual that night. I had this sinking feeling in my gut that he was going to pull something exceedingly out of the ordinary. His grousing about Holyfield’s head butts in the first fight added to my concern. [But] nobody could have foreseen what actually happened. Had I opened that broadcast with, ‘Folks, tonight I predict that Mike Tyson will bite off a chunk of Evander Holyfield’s ear,’ some fellas in white coats might have approached me and said, ‘Uh, Steve, could you come with us.'”

And then there’s my favorite line in the book: “I once asked a fighter if he was happily married,” Albert recounts. “He said, ‘Yes, but my wife’s not.'”

“All I ever wanted was to be a sportscaster,” Albert says in closing. “I didn’t always get it right, but I tried to do my job with honesty and integrity. For forty-five years, calling games was my life. I think it all worked out.”

Thomas Hauser’s email address is thomashauserwriter@gmail.com. His next book – The Most Honest Sport: Two More Years Inside Boxing – will be published this month and is available for preorder at:

https://www.amazon.com/Most-Honest-Sport-Inside-Boxing/dp/1955836329

In 2019, Hauser was selected for boxing’s highest honor – induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.

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Argentina’s Fernando Martinez Wins His Rematch with Kazuto Ioka

Published

2 days ago

May 11, 2025

Arne K. Lang

Argentina's-Fernando-Martinez-Wins-His-Rematch-with-Kazuto-Ioka

In an excellent fight climaxed by a furious 12^th round, Argentina’s Fernando Daniel Martinez came off the deck to win his rematch with Kazuto Ioka and retain his piece of the world 115-pound title. The match was staged at Ioka’s familiar stomping grounds, the Ota-City General Gymnasium in Tokyo.

In their first meeting on July 7 of last year in Tokyo, Martinez was returned the winner on scores of 117-111, 116-112, and a bizarre 120-108. The rematch was slated for late December, but Martinez took ill a few hours before the weigh-in and the bout was postponed.

The 33-year-old Martinez, who came in sporting a 17-0 (9) record, was a 7-2 favorite to win the sequel, but there were plenty of reasons to favor Ioka, 36, aside from his home field advantage. The first Japanese male fighter to win world titles in four weight classes, Ioka was 3-0 in rematches and his long-time trainer Ismael Salas was on a nice roll. Salas was 2-0 last weekend in Times Square, having handled upset-maker Rolly Romero and Reito Tsutsumi who was making his pro debut.

But the fourth time was not a charm for Ioka (31-4-1) who seemingly pulled the fight out of the fire in round 10 when he pitched the Argentine to the canvas with a pair of left hooks, but then wasn’t able to capitalize on the momentum swing.

Martinez set a fast pace and had Ioka fighting off his back foot for much of the fight. Beginning in round seven, Martinez looked fatigued, but the Argentine was conserving his energy for the championship rounds. In the end, he won the bout on all three cards: 114-113, 116-112, 117-110.

Up next for Fernando Martinez may be a date with fellow unbeaten Jesse “Bam” Rodriguez, the lineal champion at 115. San Antonio’s Rodriguez is a huge favorite to keep his title when he defends against South Africa’s obscure Phumelela Cafu on July 19 in Frisco, Texas.

As for Ioka, had he won today’s rematch, that may have gotten him over the hump in so far as making it into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. True, winning titles in four weight classes is no great shakes when the bookends are only 10 pounds apart, but Ioka is still a worthy candidate.

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Emanuel Navarrete Survives a Bloody Battle with Charly Suarez in San Diego

Published

2 days ago

May 11, 2025

David A. Avila

Emanuel-Navarrete-Survives-a-Bloody-Battle-with-Charly-Suarez-in-San-Diego

In a torrid battle Mexico’s Emanuel “Vaquero” Navarrete and his staccato attack staved off the herky-jerky non-stop assaults of Philippine’s Charly Suarez to win by technical decision and retain the WBO super feather world title on Saturday.

What do they feed these guys?

Navarrete (40-2-1, 32 KOs) and his elongated arms managed to connect enough to compensate against the surprising Suarez (18-1, 10 KOs) who wowed the crowd at Pechanga Arena in San Diego.

An accidental clash of heads opened a cut on the side of Navarrete’s left eye and forced a stoppage midway through the fight.

From the opening round Navarrete used his windmill style of attack with punches from different angles that caught Suarez multiple times early. It did not matter. Suarez fired back with impunity and was just as hungry to punch it out with the Mexican fighter.

It was savage.

Every time Navarrete connected solidly, he seemed to pause and check out the damage. Bad idea. Suarez would immediately counter with bombs of his own and surprise the champion with his resilience and tenacity.

Wherever they found Suarez they should look for more, because the Filipino fighter from Manila was ferocious and never out of his depth.

Around the sixth round the Mexican fighter seemed a little drained and puzzled at the tireless attacks coming from Suarez. During an exchange of blows a cut opened up on Navarrete and it was ruled an accidental clash of heads by the referee. Blood streamed down the side of Navarrete’s face and it was cleared by the ringside physician.

But at the opening of the eighth round, the fight was stopped and the ringside physician ruled the cut was too bad to continue. The California State Athletic Commission looked at tape of the round when the cut opened to decipher if it was an accidental butt or a punch that caused the cut. It was unclear so the referee’s call of accidental clash of heads stood as the final ruling.

Score cards from the judges saw Navarrete the winner by scores of 78-75, 77-76 twice. He retains the WBO title.

Interim IBF Lightweight Title

The sharp-shooting Raymond “Danger” Muratalla (23-0, 17 KOs) maneuvered past Russia’s Zaur Abdullaev (20-2, 12 KOs) by unanimous decision to win the interim IBF lightweight title after 12 rounds.

Both fighters were strategic in their approach with Muratalla switching from orthodox to southpaw at various times of the fight. Neither fighter was ever able to dominant any round.

Defense proved the difference between the two lightweights. Muratalla was able to slip more blows than Abdullaev and that proved the difference. The fighter from Fontana, California was able to pierce Abdullaev’s guard more often than not, especially with counter punches.

Abdullaev was never out of the fight. The Russian fighter was able to change tactics and counter the counters midway through the fight. It proved effective especially to the body. But it was not enough to offset Muratalla’s accuracy.

There were no knockdowns and after 12 rounds the judges scored it 118-110, 119-109 twice for Muratalla who now becomes the mandatory for the IBF lightweight title should Vasyl Lomachenko return to defend it.

Muratalla was brief.

“He was a tough fighter,” said Muratalla. “My defense is something I work on a lot.”

Perla Wins

Super flyweight Perla Bazaldua (2-0) eased past Mona Ward (0-2) with a polished display of fighting at length and inside.

Combination punching and defense allowed Bazaldua to punch in-between Ward’s attacks and force the St. Louis fighter to clinch repeatedly. But Ward hung in there despite taking a lot of blows. After four rounds the Los Angeles-based Bazaldua was scored the winner 40-36 on all three cards. Bazaldua signed a long term contract with Top Rank in March.

Photo credit: Mikey Williams / Top Rank

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