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Every single second, every single punch and every single detail mattered on Saturday night when Artur Beterbiev beat Dmitry Bivol to become the undisputed light-heavyweight champion of the world.
It was not a slugfest, there were no controversial moments, no insults, no wayward acts, but it was impossible to look away at any point in the 12-round fight inside the Kingdom Arena in Riyadh.
When it finished just before 2am, the pair touched gloves, the ring filled, and the decision was finally delivered: one judge had a draw, the other two scored it 116-112 and 115-113 to Beterbiev. Bivol and his people were not happy; Beterbiev and his people finally celebrated. The drive for the rematch was underway by approximately 2:05am.
In ringside melees, the scoring was discussed, and people were left swinging between satisfied and disgusted; it is hard to feel outrage at the end of a fight that was so close, so perfect, so brilliant. It is also possible to win a 12-round fight clearly and it still only be seven rounds to five in your favour.
Bivol was class in defeat, as expected, and praised Beterbiev; they had shared a unique respect for each other during the months and months it took to finally get the pair in the ring. They had also shared six years and nine months as world champions before the final bell separated Bivol from his belt.
The fight took the levels of anticipation in boxing, which is sadly a sport where great fights just vanish, to a new high. Bivol and Beterbiev delivered an exceptional fight, a fight so pure and perfect that often under the eerie blue lights of the Kingdom Arena, it seemed like I was sitting and watching a video game. The timing, the angles, the power, the ability to take punches and the endless stamina made the fight look like a perfect creation. They never lost their shape, never fell over, or fell into punches – they delivered a double masterclass in boxing skills.
There is some debate about the last so-called undisputed champion at light-heavyweight and far too many inside the boxing business give credibility to frequently repeated errors – the simple interpretation of what Beterbiev achieved is to say that he is now the first man to hold all four of the recognised belts. The last person to hold all the available belts at light-heavyweight – at the time the WBO did not exist and there were just three – was Michael Spinks back in the summer of 1985. It was history in the Riyadh ring, and it was worth the wait.
Bivol, six years younger at 33, moved well in the opening three rounds and was sharp and fast; Beterbiev did what Beterbiev does and edged closer with each second. I had it 3-3 after six and the intensity was increasing.
Bivol, when trapped, had to let his hands go and Beterbiev is a genius at trapping fighters, often by using his movement and not his fists. However, once a boxer opens up against Beterbiev, he becomes a target. Beterbiev can stand just inches from you and somehow find the leverage to connect with knockout punches – Bivol took punches nobody has so far managed to take. It was Beterbiev’s first win on points in 21 pro fights.
Bivol was taking great risks and nicked a couple of the middle rounds. After 10 rounds, I had it five rounds each. In Beterbiev’s corner, at that exact point, his people were telling him that he needed a knockout. “They always say that to me,” Beterbiev said with a smile. Some people were clinging to the corner’s declaration like it was gospel; it was not, it was simply good corner work and Beterbiev won rounds 11 and 12 on all three of the scorecards and that was enough for a narrow win.
In the heated aftermath, as Bivol cradled ice to a swollen face, and Beterbiev just shrugged when asked if believed he had won, there were calls for an immediate rematch. There was emotion and outrage and relief in the back corridors at the Arena on the edge of the glittering city; it could and probably should happen again.
I hope it does. The first 12 rounds were a guilty pleasure, the next instalment might just be better. There was no great heist in Riyadh on Saturday night, just a superior contest between two great fighters, their skills and their desires; it was close, but nobody was robbed in the midnight hours.
