Photo by Tom Hogan/Hogan Photos/Golden Boy Promotions
It would have been so easy.
Omar Figueroa sat on his stool before the ninth round of his fight with Daniel Estrada, listening to his corner’s instructions. To him, it must have sounded grim. He was bleeding badly from a hideous gash over his left eye, the result of a nasty headbutt in the previous round.
His father, who was his head trainer for the fight, was ready to shut him down. And why not? Figueroa was certainly in a fight–the taller, rangier Estrada was landing a stiff jab and catching Figueroa frequently on the way in–but Figueroa also seemed to clearly be winning.
If they had waved the fight off as a result of that bad cut, they would have went to the scorecards to determine the winner, and Figueroa would have been declared the victor by unanimous decision. In fact, the judges cards were actually fairly preposterous–one judge had Figueroa winning by shutout, which is quite frankly just a pathetic, awful score.
That judge should join Pierre Benoist on a cruise far, far away from any boxing ring.
It was actually rather funny watching his corner. Usually (especially when a punch causes a cut), the corner is assuring the ring doctor, ref, and themselves that the fight could continue–nothing a little cut man magic can’t heal–but in this case, everyone around the fighter looked ready to go home.
They just needed one more guy to agree.
Figueroa could have simply nodded his head. He could have acquiesced to his corner’s demands and spit out his mouthpiece. He would have walked away the winner, on his way to bigger fights, having survived a tough challenge. He had looked good enough to mostly erase the sketchiness of his last performance, a split-decision win over Jerry Belmontes.
He didn’t.
Instead, when Figueroa caught on to what was happening, he looked incredulously at his father. “No. Don’t stop the fight.”
He was calm but firm, as most fighters are. The ring doctor allowed him to continue. And that’s when things got fun for “Panterita.”
Figueroa came out for the ninth round like he comes out for pretty much every round–looking to smash something. But he was further fueled by an urgency, a frightened awareness that the fight could be stopped at any time. He met Estrada in the center of the ring, and threw a jab. It wasn’t a stiff jab, but more of a range finder.
It wasn’t meant to land. Instead, it got Estrada to throw his own jab. Figueroa was looking for it, and he ducked under it with perfect timing. As he ducked, he unleashed a massive overhand right that caught Estrada squarely on the jaw.
Photo by Esther Lin/Showtime
It was a lightning quick sequence, but a perfect example of a fighter setting another fighter up for the perfect counter shot. Estrada went down hard, badly hurt and severely dazed. He somehow rose to his feet, but was as steady as a baby giraffe, while the great Juan Manuel Marquez looked on from ringside.
Marquez, who helped train Estrada, had been in Estrada’s position a few times before and survived. But Marquez has superhuman recuperative powers. Estrada is merely human. He was given the chance to continue, but he was so badly hurt that he offered nothing as Figueroa blitzed him with about 411 unanswered punches.
Seconds later, referee Raul Caiz Sr. saved Estrada from the beating.
Omar Figueroa got his knockout victory, merely a few moments after turning down the chance to take the win by decision. He’s not the only fighter who would have made that choice, but there are a hell of a lot of them who would have seen the blood, felt the cut and took the victory on the stool.
The risks were enormous. A cut like that could not only affect a fighter’s vision, but it could give his opponent a target, a bullseye to fire away at in an effort to turn the cut into a geyser. Figueroa could have ended up on the bad end of a knockout. But stopping wasn’t an option for him, in fact it was unthinkable.
Instead, he did what pure fighters do–he punched his way out of a jam.
And we’re damn glad he did.
Some Random Notes From This Past Weekend:
Sakio Bika always appears just seconds away from pulling a sharp object from his trunks and bludgeoning everyone in his path with it.
Give Anthony Dirrell credit–the fight was dreadful, but he came out ready to brawl with the brawler. He made it clear early on to Bika that if he wanted the fight to be dirty, Dirrell was more than happy to muddy it up with him.
How weird must it be for a fighter to have the referee turn to you and exclaim, “you guys look like shit!”
Shawn Porter’s game plan of lunging in with power shots and his melon finally backfired on him. Kell Brook was content to pick him off with jabs and counter shots as he came in and then clinch. Punch, clinch, repeat. It wasn’t pretty, but nobody who fights Porter is going to be a thing of aesthetic beauty. He did what he had to in order to win.
Brook looked ENORMOUS in the ring with Porter. He’ll probably be a handful for anybody at 147, but a battle with Amir Khan, who has called out everyone from Manny Pacquiao to Forrest Gump, is actually pretty intriguing.
That’s some undercard for “Mayhem.” Floyd Mayweather may despise Bob Arum, but their undercards are starting to look eerily similar in their shittyness.
