By Bart Barry-
Saturday afternoon on ESPN+ in a match from Dubai junior lightweight titlist Jamel “Semper Fi” Herring beat-up Northern Ireland’s Carl “The Jackal” Frampton, a former titlist in three divisions. It was the finest win of Herring’s career and an unexpectedly convincing one.
Two times in as many months the 130-pound division has yielded the event glorious as any in a prizefighter’s career: The betting underdog winning a title match by knockout. You’re the real thing once you’ve done that, regardless what comes before or after. It does not happen often and happens even less often with household names. Sometimes it happens in a wild upset but more often it happens when a man challenges himself with stiffest competition. Betting odds speak to that competition, and knockouts speak to decisiveness.
Herring left no more doubt Saturday than Oscar Valdez did in February. If Herring was not up against a man in his prime, like Valdez, neither is Herring a man in his prime – though primer, much, than he was in September.
A couple weeks ago Russian heavyweight Alexander Povetkin, a recent COVID patient, looked disbalanced and awful, unrecovered from the virus more than partially. It recalled Herring’s performance against Jonathan Oquendo, the sort of performance that made a veteran handicapper like Frampton try and pick what 130-pound fruit he espied lowest the ground. Herring’s second title defense, against Oquendo, was ugly an affair as a title match might be. Herring was off-balance in the opening instants against Oquendo the same way Povetkin stutterswam from Dillian Whyte on Gibraltar. If the men’s similar balance issues aren’t correlated to their similar COVID issues, it’s a whale of a coincidence.
That’s the bad news. Here’s some good: Herring looked like a new man Saturday, which means COVID long-haulers need only haul so long. Herring looked better not merely in the obvious way of fighting much better against a much better man but also, and more importantly, in his willingness. Herring wanted to fight Frampton in a way he surely did not want a fight with Oquendo. Frampton was, is, Oquendo’s superior, thoroughly. That Herring wanted to trade with Frampton, holstering his jab enough to set Frampton a table for eating uppercuts, said nothing so much as: Herring is fully recovered from COVID.
So different was Saturday’s alpha predator that I revisited my column in September to ensure it was the same guy about whom Timothy Bradley said “real eyes real-ize” – disgusted and honest as Bradley was about Herring’s closedeye attempts to end that contest prematurely. Herring took the initiative from Frampton exactly the way he surrendered it against Oquendo.
Frampton looked outclassed most of the opening rounds. But he was undissuaded for having watched film of Herring’s last tilt. If he might parry the jab and slip the cross and get close enough to Herring to hook an arm and clock-in, he assumed, a European ref, even one imported to the desert, would offer Herring no early breaks. Frampton fought the exact fight that would have won him a midrounds stoppage against September’s Semper Fi.
Saturday’s Semper Fi was a different thing altogether. In round 5, as Frampton began to remove some initiative from Herring’s grasp Herring kissed him with a lefthand Frampton’ll not soon forget. It hamstrung The Jackal. Less than a round later it was an uppercut that cut Frampton’s lights for a second or so. The Northern Irishman rose bravely, yes, as Americans have come to expect from overmatched European champs. But whatever courage Frampton showed quickly succumbed to Herring’s cruel plans.
By the time Frampton’s corner cancelled his whupping Frampton was wondering what took them so long. He spun from the confrontation a bit expectantly, didn’t he? Not to worry, as Frampton’s relief at the white feather got dutifully overshadowed by Herring and his handlers’ joy. As it should be. A titlist comes in a fight as a betting underdog and summons the white towel from his opponent’s corner, he’s deserving of what joy our beloved sport can bestow.
Herring acted fully redeemed Saturday. So did boxing. Didn’t it feel great to have a meaningful fight end decisively well before midnight?
Saturday’s event put promoter Top Rank in an enviable position, one it mustn’t squander. It now has two of the 130-pound division’s three titlists, along with Shakur Stevenson and Vasyl Lomachenko. Those are the makings of a wondrous four-man, single-elimination tourney sure to crown the defacto champion of the division.
It gets better. The third titlist in the division is arguably its best and most exciting prizefighter, Gervonta “Tank” Davis, who finds himself in a set of circumstances Bud Crawford would surely recognize. And therein lies the better part. Soon enough Davis should demand of PBC what Crawford regularly demands of Top Rank. When Davis does, we can hope, PBC will offer Crawford a shot at its best welterweights in exchange for Top Rank’s offering Davis some of its best junior lightweights.
Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter @bartbarry
