By Jimmy Tobin-
Saturday night at The Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles, Vasyl “Hi-Tech” Lomachenko tormented Miguel “The Scorpion” Marriaga to a corner stoppage at the end of the seventh round. For the third consecutive fight, a Lomachenko opponent stayed on his stool, bereft of answers, reconciled to leaving the ring with his senses and whatever palliative might be salvaged from the better part of valor.
Lomachenko had his way with Marriaga as everyone expected, and as no other fighter has; though the point about expectations should dominate the narrative. He lost perhaps a handful of seconds over the course of the fight, scoring two knockdowns, including one at the end of the seventh that started with a Lomachenko left hand but finished courtesy of Marriaga’s stumbling escape. This is what Lomachenko does: beat opponents into a doomed retreat, one that ends with them slumped on their stools, peeking past protective handlers like baby musk oxen. There is no award for best between-round corner stoppage of the year, alas.
Thus went another showcase bout for Lomachenko, who for better and worse has turned his last half dozen or so fights into such spectacles; one-sided affairs that illuminate not the intimacy of combat so much as a fighter’s ability to resist it. The chasm between Lomachenko’s ability and that of his opponent’s is profound, which is perhaps why the commentary of those fights echo each other so. Only this showcase, televised on ESPN, was intended to present Lomachenko to a broader audience than HBO (and certainly HBO PPV) could reach. With the fight starting after midnight on the east coast, however, when you are more likely to find ab-routines and ultra-blenders showcased on cable than you are elite practitioners of niche sports, it is fair to wonder how many new eyes found Lomachenko that night. An NFL Hall of Fame broadcast that ran late and required viewers to switch from ESPN to ESPN2 and back to follow the card didn’t help. That is not Lomachenko’s fault of course, though should the ratings disappoint rest assured he will shoulder much of the blame.
So too will he be skewered for what little heat was born of the friction between him and Marriaga. Lomachenko treated Marriaga like he does all his opponents, which is to say disdainfully, though it took some time for that disdain to culminate in visuals that might leave a new viewer wondering what sharing the ring with Lomachenko might be like, and as a result of that thought experiment, what things might be preferable to such an experience. Yet it is abstractions like these that so often drive interest in a fighter.
Nor does Lomachenko’s wizardry—an entire catalogue of basics applied in spellbinding concert—easily lend itself to such abstractions. And in this sense he benefits from the commentary: a trained company eye will be able to point out for viewers the individual elements of Lomachenko’s craft. That process of identification is complete at about the time when an opponent too is finished; a measured approach begets a measured analysis. When the conclusion is not a prone fighter but one on his stool accepting mercy, however, the likelihood that talk of the fight survives to the watercooler Monday is lessened some.
And that is why you are as likely to find gifs of Lomachenko showboating against Marriaga as you are the two knockdowns he scored. In particular, there was Lomachenko’s homage to Roy Jones Jr.’s taunting of David Telesco, with Lomachenko backing himself into the corner and beckoning Marriaga to attack. Like Telesco, however, Marriaga quickly learned the penalty for accepting such an invitation and froze in the face of it. To you, the initiated, Lomachenko’s antics were probably a sign that either he could not put Marriaga away, or that he should have. And, if a fighter won’t accept what appears to be a free shot, what does that say about the quality of the fight?
In the context of a showcase bout, however, where a fighter, not a fight, is meant to dominate the discussion, the currency Lomachenko’s showboating may have should not be entirely dismissed. There are worse things for an unknown boxer to be than reminiscent of Jones. Generational talent and athleticism are bewitching at first, second, third, glance, and while you, the initiated, mark certain other similarities between Lomachenko and a great fighter who clowned no-hopers there are surely others discussing that little tattooed white guy who did “that thing Roy Jones did.”
Thankfully, for you, the initiated, that is not all Lomachenko showed against Marriaga. He looked significantly bigger than Marriaga which means Lomachenko can be expected to invade another division in confirming greatness already bestowed. His body attack, deliberate, ruthless, brings a smile, though it betrays what little regard he had for Marriaga that Lomachenko waited until the second half of the fight to employ it. Lomachenko’s response to a cut from a headbutt is also worth noting. Bleeding above his left eye, he stepped immediately to Marriaga when the action resumed.
That is a meager yield in terms of entertainment, sure, but for a fighter who in the minds of aficionados lives primarily in the future, where better opponents will make greater demands of him, these little forecasts are informative.
As for that future—it is coming, right?
