They dogged it out head-to-head in the old-fashioned way as the referee looked on, content to let them maul and tear?
Francisco Rodriguez Jr., the victor in the 2014 Fight of the Year so far, fought down at minimumweight against the relentless Katsunari Takayama, moved up to flyweight this past weekend and found it not to his liking as he was drawn into another fantastic war this time with Filipino journeyman Jomar Fajardo, in Cebu, Philippines. Twenty-two years old and now 14-5-2, Fajardo has shown little in his short career to indicate that he had anything in his locker to trouble the solid and insistent Rodriguez, his five-fight unbeaten streak having come to an end this summer at the hands of the unheralded Benezer Alolod, who battered him mercilessly in five. This, perhaps, led Rodriguez to underestimate him but if it was so he received a redress in the very first round as Fajardo out-fought and out-hustled his more illustrious foe with sharp power leads. In the second, Rodriguez looked more like business, even tripling on the hook, body and head, but Fajardo, who seems cut from the now traditional Filipino cloth, refused to budge and began to introduce his delightful sneak uppercut to the body, a punch he landed time and time again on Rodriguez as they bumped up ring center.
An overhand right and later a left to the neck heralded Rodriguez?s attempts to take control of the fight in the third, and this he did, despite an insistence in persevering with a switch-hitting attack that left him vulnerable and befuddled whenever he turned southpaw. In the dying seconds of the round, however, Fajardo landed an absolute beauty of a right hand that immediately sent Rodriguez slipping and sliding onto the retreat and drew a steady flow of blood from his right nostril. It bought Fajardo the round, and when the referee brought the doctor to the apron at the beginning of the fourth, it spurred Fajardo into the attack once more. Wild, he blew himself out, Rodriguez outlasting him and eventually dominating with short, sniping shots, but the fight was messy and this always favors the man with less artistry, in this case the Filipino.
He remained married to that lack of artistry in the fifth, loading up on huge shots as he bounced around the ring, hands low, inviting trouble as Rodriguez stalked him. Cautious in the face of the wild, winging punches that filled the air around him as he advanced, Rodriguez sniped his way to the round with his left hand. In the sixth, Fajardo tried to make a boon of his reluctance to come back inside, moving often and far, showing his Mexican stalker his left shoulder, offering him a full metal jacket in the form of that right uppercut whenever he was pinned, which was often, as Rodriguez sought to close the show.
He didn?t find the right punches though and as is so often the case, Fajardo?s very survival stirred him. He came out for the seventh and went head-to-head with Rodriguez once again, losing the early exchanges but being rewarded by the Mexican?s own retreat, as he attempted to close out the round switch-jabbing his way through the final minute. The Filipino waited, saw an opening for his left hand and took it, sending Rodriguez on the run and forcing him back to the ropes where he was made to swallow a beautiful reverse one-two and Fajardo had bagged his first round since the third. Brutal exchanges closed out the round, and Rodriguez tapped his heart-driven opponent on the head at the bell, ?well done.? He was bleeding once more.
Fajardo came out at the beginning of the eighth bent at the waist and threshing; Rodriguez, who possesses one of the best engines in the sport, welcomed him, finding spots for his punches behind the elbow and on the skull. But Fajardo did not wilt, and for almost every one of the Mexican?s professionally placed punches, there was one of his cuffing, lunging, wilder shots or that short sharp right uppercut. Four times by luck or design he found, from that deep crouch, the face of his more brilliant foe, and for all that Rodriguez snipped, and battered at him in return, I thought the Filipino nicked this round, making them all square on my card after eight.
A combination of aggression and weariness defined the ninth. It was clear that Fajardo was past breaking point in terms of exhaustion but Rodriguez now began to catch him, perhaps improperly prepared for so lowly an opponent; he cracked first looking perhaps like he would like to change his plan and box, but at distance Fajardo was just booming his way in with that winging right. Rodriguez was safer in close where he had only the specter of that uppercut to trouble him. They dogged it out head-to-head in the old-fashioned way as the referee looked on, content to let them maul and tear. The round was desperately close, but by my reckoning the bigger, better, stronger, faster, Rodriguez lost it and therefore had found himself in the astonishing position of needing to win the tenth round in order to salvage a draw. This is the definitive testimony to the importance of heart in boxing.
This, he did, by waiting and punishing the many transgressions of Filipino, but Fajardo paid his immortal respects to Manny Pacquiao tonight. He?ll never have the cars or the clothes or the mansions or the political career of his more famous compatriot but he fought with the new spirit of this box-crazy nation; in some small way he made himself a part of the hottest fistic revolution in history.
Five-five on my card, the judges also found the draw by the tortured route of 98-92, 94-96 and 95-95. Quite what we have seen here, I?m unsure. I have little doubt that Rodriguez (now 16-2-1) was under-prepared, just as I have little doubt he is good enough to trouble all but the best flyweights. As for Fajardo I suspect we have seen the fight of his life, although you just never know with this division. The fact is, it kicks up miniature classics and genuine surprises as well as the very best fights in boxing with an unerring consistency that is not to be missed. Could the surprise here be that Fajardo is as good as this result suggests? Only time will tell, but at 112 lbs., nothing is impossible.
