After stopping Daniel Dubois in the ninth round via a sharp right-hand jab – a punch of incredible accuracy but also enough innocence to reawaken questions about Dubois’ resilience – Oleksandr Usyk took pity on his defeated foe. He spoke to Dubois like a kindhearted coach might to an athlete who had just missed the cut for his varsity team:
“You young,” Usyk consoled Dubois.
“You can dream.”
“It’s a tough sport, brother.”
Dubois seemed too heartbroken to take the lessons to heart in the moment, but in his three fights since, he has implemented them better than even Usyk could have expected.
Usyk knew something while telling Dubois that he wasn’t done, something that boxing is too often unable to process: A loss is not the end of the world. A stoppage is not a career death sentence. Same goes for two stoppages. (Ironically, Usyk himself is currently undefeated as a professional despite taking the riskiest fights possible.) Sure, a punishing enough defeat can break a fighter’s chin forever – as might have happened to Anthony Joshua in the face of Dubois’ titanic fists – and a string of losses too lengthy can dissolve the public’s desire to watch a fighter again. But extraordinary things happen in the boxing ring that are capable of reversing any amount of negative momentum.
For example: In 1996, in his native Philippines, Manny Pacquiao got knocked out by a fighter named Rustico Torrecampo. Three years later, Pacquiao fought Boonsai Sangsurat at flyweight, came in a pound over the threshold of 112, and got stopped again. Pacquiao would go on to lose six more times, including a destructive KO defeat to Juan Manuel Marquez in 2012. Twice he won narrow decisions over Marquez that could have justifiably been losses. Yet while the image of Pacquiao lying face-first at Marquez’s feet endures, he is not known primarily for any of those moments. His blinding speed, caffeinated flurries and unorthodox punch angles that thrilled fans for years on end are far more concrete to his legacy. As are his endeavors in eight(!) different weight classes. Manny staggering, hurt, only to clap his gloves together and beckon his ascendant opponent forward is an essential boxing moment. His greatness easily transcended his low points and made him one of the 10 greatest boxers alive.
Or take Roberto Duran, arguably the greatest boxer alive. Pacquiao’s eight losses aren’t enough for you? Try Duran’s 16. Or recall that Tommy Hearns erased his consciousness even more violently and rapidly than Marquez did Pacquiao’s. Many of Duran’s losses came after his prime, of course, but his defeats at the hands of three other kings doesn’t change the fact that the luster of his resume outshines all of theirs. (And that’s not because Hearns, Marvin Hagler or Sugar Ray Leonard were slouches.) Duran even suffered an utter humiliation, quitting in the middle of his rematch with Leonard. It cratered his reputation and forced him to take walks with his pet lion to avoid harassment. Now it serves as a mere footnote to his legend.
Losses can be redeemed, and being precious about an “0” is a waste of time. Well, it should be – but the boxing world hasn’t quite grasped that simple idea despite the evidence to back it up dwelling in almost every Hall of Fame boxer not named Floyd Mayweather Jr. Floyd possessed an enviable, visceral kind of invincibility in every way imaginable (besides the fortitude of the bones in his hands). But he also didn’t test that aura much in the second half of his career, sprinkling healthy servings of managed risk, opportunism and cherry-picking on top of his sublime skill and early-career daring. He retired undefeated while shaming anybody and everybody who had taken a loss; boxers and boxing fans took notes. In the eyes of far too many, a fighter without a pristine record is now a bum.
The storylines those people turn a blind eye to! Here is Dubois, he of the two knockout losses and questionable heart, viciously battering Britain’s and the oddsmakers’ favorite in Anthony Joshua. The man who was so despondent during Usyk’s pep talk in August of last year is now on a three-fight knockout streak against increasingly dangerous foes. The evisceration of Joshua cannot erase all the IBF’s chicanery, so no, Dubois has not “legitimized” the laughable decision to all but strip Usyk of that belt. What he does deserve are the big fights that will now flow to him naturally. There is appetite for an Usyk-Dubois rematch. Dubois would be the favorite in a rematch with AJ (and he could feasibly squeeze in another fight while Joshua recovers from the punishment he suffered Saturday). Dubois could take on Joseph Parker, another resurgent heavyweight, to make clear the third-best fighter on the planet north of 200 pounds. Joshua-Fury, the begged-for British big man battle, is now dead. But having wiped out Joshua in front of 96,000 British fans, Dubois might simply take AJ’s place.
Counting a fighter out after a loss should be easy to avoid. Not only were Dubois’ blemishes infrequent, but he was also younger than the vast majority of contenders in the heavyweight division. Still, we will keep overreacting to hyped fighters’ defeats. Boxing is too visceral, too conclusive, for us to do anything other than draw dramatic and sweeping conclusions in a fight’s immediate aftermath.
The latest: AJ is shot, his chin is gone, and his fundamentals have fallen to pieces. Perhaps. He might also look fantastic in his next fight. Whichever the case, we have been warned about the folly of passing swift and severe judgment on fighters.
Dubois now has multiple losses and the world at his feet. What a novel idea, Floyd! It’s entirely possible that Dubois will fold again the next time he’s under serious pressure. But to disregard his work over the past year would be just as shortsighted as writing off his career after either of his two losses. At 27, Dubois may find that his defining fight remains ahead of him. Only after seeing the twists in the tale do we realize the silliness of declaring its ending ahead of time.
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