Naoya Inoue makes even mismatches compelling

To watch Naoya Inoue in a mismatch is to watch Aretha do a vocal warm-up, or Hendrix tune his guitar, or Dylan scribble what he can recall of last night’s dream on a restaurant napkin. It is not to be confused with experiencing the fighter at his best, yet it remains a thrilling and enlightening experience nonetheless, preferable in so many ways to watching other boxers in competitive fights.

Indeed, it can be argued that the true mark of a boxer’s greatness lies in their ability to make even mismatches compelling. In such cases you know exactly what you are going to get, from both the favourite and the underdog, yet so fun is it to watch the favourite you can for once forgive and accept predictability in a sport predicated on the opposite. It is, in this scenario, not about who wins but rather how they win and the great fighters seemingly always manage to win mismatches the way they should be won. They get it over with quickly, in other words. They don’t labour the point. Better yet, they demonstrate the gulf in class between them and their opponent with the satisfaction of the watching audience at the forefront of their mind. It is, for them, not a chance to stay safe but a chance to shine.

A long reign, regardless of the division, will usually feature a mismatch or two and even a shorter reign, like Inoue’s, will encounter the odd mismatch by virtue of the champion’s brilliance. This dynamic played out when he stopped Stephen Fulton, considered by many to be his big rival at super bantamweight, in 2023. We have also seen a similar story told in countless other Inoue fights of late. 

Most recently we have seen the Japanese star indulge himself following a run of testing assignments. In September, for example, he faced TJ Doheny, an Irishman courageous enough to spit defiance but unable to spit much of a threat. Inoue, who stopped Doheny in seven rounds, was then scheduled to defend his belts against Sam Goodman, only for Goodman to pull out of the fight and Ye Joon Kim take his place. 

Of Kim, a 32-year-old from South Korea, little was known before tonight. He brought to the ring a record of 21-2-2 (13) and was ranked at number 11 by the World Boxing Organisation (WBO), but not one of his pro wins really stood out. Perhaps the most interesting thing about him was his nickname: “Troublemaker Pacquiweather.” 

By way of surprises on the night, Kim had few for Inoue. A decision to begin the fight as a southpaw was about as good as it got for the challenger, but this only served to prolong the inevitable. Give it a couple of rounds and we all knew that Inoue, who expected Kim to box orthodox, would have figured Kim out and started going to work, slighted maybe by the fact Kim had the temerity to think Inoue struggled with lefties.

In truth, it took three rounds for Inoue to suss out Kim, a testament to not only Kim’s intelligence but also his ambition. It would have been very easy to make what looked a mismatch on paper a mismatch in reality and escape from the affair with a bag of money and no blame at his door. Yet Kim, it seemed, had more pride than that. He was tougher than many expected and he routinely traded shots with Inoue, landing a decent left cross in round two and an equally impressive flurry of punches in the third. He even beckoned Inoue in for more whenever Inoue hurt him; firstly, in round three with two body shots – a left hook and a right hook – and then in the fourth, the round in which Kim asked for more and, alas, got more than he bargained for. 

It was in that round, the fourth, everything suddenly clicked for Inoue and everything suddenly became that bit harder for Kim. With it all figured out, Inoue had started the round pinging Kim’s head back with all manner of right hands and left hooks and would end it with an invitation too good to turn down. 

Kim, at this point, found himself on the ropes, as befuddled as he was hurt. His tricks had all been attempted, his punches had all been thrown, and the only thing he had left in round four was the ability to deceive and play down his pain. He tried to put on a show, as best as he could, yet would soon discover that Inoue was not the type to either feel sorry for an opponent or become distracted by their effort to engage him in some sort of mind game. Instead, Inoue reads such signals the way they should always be read. He reads them as distress signals and knows that when an opponent claims to not be hurt, and even asks for more, typically the opposite is true. As such, he attacked Kim as though irked by his defiance and he proceeded to nail him with a clean jab-right cross combination, the impact of which sent Kim flying back towards the ropes and down onto the canvas. It was then that the referee, Mark Nelson, swooped in to count him and, more importantly, save him – both from Inoue and himself.

As advertised, and expected, Inoue’s demolition of Kim in Tokyo will now be remembered as a mismatch. Yet still this should not detract from the spectacle as a whole. In fact, the fight itself, while over quickly, was an intriguing watch for as long as it lasted, thanks in large part to Kim’s reluctance to accept his role in what everyone else labelled a mismatch. Inoue, too, deserves some credit for approaching Kim with the same intensity and focus we see in his eyes and body movements whenever in the ring with opponents meant to test him. Easy though it is to relax in a mismatch, and get complacent, Inoue is seemingly aware that a boxer’s greatness lies as much in their ability to deal with mismatches in an efficient way as it does in winning fights not everyone expects them to win. It won’t land him the same level of acclaim, no, but tonight’s win against Kim was as important to Inoue, 29-0 (26), as any other he has secured in a 12-year pro career. After all, there is no defeat as damaging to a boxer’s reputation as one they suffered in a supposed mismatch.