In the classic film “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre,” greenhorns Humphrey Bogart and Tim Holt think they have discovered gold. They are set straight by grizzled prospector Walter Huston, who informs them that it’s pyrite (aka “fool’s gold”) but points to a mountain in the distance and assures them that the real thing is “up there, up there’s where we’ve got to go.”
Terence “Bud” Crawford’s dominant decision over Viktor Postol last Saturday to unify two junior welterweight titles was not fool’s gold, not by any measure. Crawford is a talented, hardworking fighter who is probably going to get even better before he’s through.
But if he’s going to become the new face of American boxing, Crawford still has a steep mountain to climb before he hits the sort of paydirt afforded to boxing’s elite.
Boxing isn’t a movie. It has a habit of going off-script. Crawford was clearly superior to Postol, but it’s doubtful that this fight was what promoter Bob Arum had in mind when he backed the match with his own money because HBO wouldn’t.
From a technical standpoint, Crawford was virtually flawless. Boxing primarily from a southpaw stance, he negated Postol’s offense with lateral movement and sharp counters, frustrating the Ukrainian “Iceman” to such an extent that he blew his cool and resorted to rabbit punches down the stretch.
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that if all you want to do is win the fight. But if you are on the fast track to superstardom, it’s probably not the best way to advance your cause.” Nigel Collins
The official scores of 117-108 and 118-107 (twice) were spot on, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Crawford outclassed Postol, a previously undefeated boxer with impressive credentials.
So what’s not to like?
What appeared to be one of those coveted best-fighting-the-best matches going in turned out to be largely uneventful. The thrill meter wavered in limbo for most of the fight, like a rollercoaster losing momentum right before plunging over the crest of a hill.
Crawford gracefully circled, first to the left and then to the right, engaging only when a counter opportunity presented itself, which wasn’t often. Postol rarely got close enough to lay a glove on him.
It brought to mind trainer Eddie Shaw’s comment about former British and European middleweight champion Herol Graham. Terence Crawford, right, only allowed Viktor Postol to land 83 punches through 12 rounds. Chase Stevens/AP
“Graham has turned boxing into a poetic art,” said Shaw. “Trouble is, nobody ever got knocked out with a poem.”
HBO’s broadcast crew was uniformly effusive in its praise of Crawford. It was, therefore, left to the network’s unofficial scorekeeper, Harold Lederman, to finally give voice to what a lot of viewers were surely thinking.
Why didn’t Crawford let Postol off the hook instead of going for the finish against an opponent he’d twice knocked down in the fifth round? He’d never seemed hesitant in the past, but Crawford failed to press his advantage in the sixth, choosing instead to revert to his move and pop-shot motif.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that if all you want to do is win the fight. But if you are on the fast track to superstardom, it’s probably not the best way to advance your cause.
According to CompuBox, Crawford threw 388 punches and landed 141. That’s an average of 32 punches thrown per round and just under 12 connects. Postol was even less active, throwing 244 punches and landing 83. This is not the kind of pace conducive to creating exhilarating fights.
While purists were ecstatic over Crawford’s exceptional display of boxing acumen, there simply aren’t enough of them out there to make him a major pay-per-view attraction. Maybe that’s not fair, but you can’t force consumers to pay for a product they don’t want.
Put yourself in the position of a casual boxing fan that shelled out for that PPV, only to witness a superior boxer effortlessly win round after round but never close the show. How eager would you be to come back for more?
The PPV numbers won’t be available for a few days, but the crowd of 7,027 at the MGM Grand Garden Arena meant that approximately half the seats were empty. Not an encouraging sign. Terence Crawford, right, showed lots of skills against Viktor Postol, but didn’t finish Postol after dropping him twice in the fifth round. Mikey Williams/Top Rank
To be fair, part of that was due to the fact that Crawford is not well known beyond hardcore boxing circles. The Postol fight was supposed to test his marketability outside of his hometown of Omaha, Nebraska, where he’s consistently drawn larger crowds that he did in Vegas.
Of course, Crawford’s performance against Postol had absolutely nothing to do with the live gate or PPV buy-rate. It did, however, have everything to do with the winner’s immediate future.
Knockouts are the quickest way to the hearts of the masses, always were and always will be. Although the knockout is unquestionably the payoff most fans crave, it’s not just about the act itself.
There’s a primal aura about a knockout puncher that seduces like no other. His art is absolute in a world filled with ambiguities. We crave that aspect of it almost as much as the violent spectacle it provides.
The cognoscenti were right to rave about Crawford’s boxing IQ, seamless footwork and disciplined fight plan. Bud’s capable of all that and more, but it’s the more that was missing against Postol.
Those who said it was a boring fight were also correct. We got a brief sense of what it could have been in the 12th, when the opponents engaged in several spirited exchanged and created the best round of the fight.
As it was, it took Postol’s most determined attack of the evening to draw the gritty version of Crawford out of hiding. By then it was too late.
How did Postol, who won two rounds, three tops, managed to remain on his feet at the conclusion? Was the Ukrainian a greater threat than he appeared?
Did Crawford play it safe because he was nervous about his maiden PPV voyage? Is there something we don’t know?
Intentionally or not, Crawford answered all these questions in a single declarative sentence, uttered in the immediate aftermath of the fight.
“I just stick to what I know: boxing.”
When you’re as good at it as Crawford, boxing skills alone can take you a long way. But if you want to be special, you’ve got to do special things, which almost always requires leaving your comfort zone.
I think Bud has it in him to do whatever it takes. When Yuriorkis Gamboa and Hank Lundy came at him hard and fast, he responded in kind and quickly made them regret their impertinence. A man of Crawford’s temperament needs those kinds of adversaries to bring out the beast.
Is Manny Pacquiao the man for the job?
Arum seems to think so. He’s been angling for the match for some time now, probably hoping the aging star of his promotional stable will eventually pass the baton to Crawford.
Some will tell you it’s a done deal, and maybe it is. But despite Crawford’s scorecard supremacy, matchmakers may hesitate thanks to the equivocal nature of his performance.
Crawford reportedly earned $1.3 million — a nice payday, but nowhere near the estimated $20 million Pacquiao was guaranteed for his most recent bout, the third fight with Timothy Bradley.
That sort of money is still there for the taking — up where the terrain is treacherous, the competition is fierce and a figurative gold mine awaits those strong enough to claim it. That’s where Crawford has to go.
He already has a toehold, but that’s all. The toughest part of the ascent is yet to come.
