Top 100 Favorite Boxing Matches: #40-31

This is the seventh of my ten-part series that covers my 100 favorite matches in boxing history. I would call this next section an unpopular one. Granted, I don’t exactly feel guilty since this is an obviously opinion-oriented list, but this section has two of the most famous bouts that do not even come close to the top. I would again say that anything in the top fifty could have conceivably been ranked in the upper fraternity, though if you read the below, I think you’ll understand why, while I consider myself historically-informed, I am a definite hipster by nature. Do not get the wrong idea though, I absolutely adore this selection of fights, and I’ve given each the amount of words I’d want to give, but they just miss out of the upper thirty by preference.

40 - Sot Chitalada vs Gabriel Bernal II (June 22, 1985)

Sot Chitalada had bested the power-punching Gabriel Bernal for the WBC flyweight title less than a year prior with only eight professional fights to his name. His achievement was only possible due to extensive background in another combat sport, though it remained his success. Less than a year passed and he faced the man whom he had wrestled that title away from - and it would result in one of the most intense of all flyweight title fights.

Bernal’s first clean punch sent Chitalada on his backside only a minute into the contest - it would be the best connection he would have, but it didn’t mean the onslaught was over. Chitalada was on his bicycle, but he couldn’t escape off the ropes and was visibly wobbling at the bell. The message was sent: that the assault was not going to stop. Now having tasted the fire, in reply to being dropped, Chitalada ushered in a hellacious body attack that wouldn’t yield until the fight concluded. He couldn’t stop the Mexican’s forward-pressure, though his efforts paid off, as he fought with savage intent, weaving between punches to drive his fists into Bernal’s midsection. Several of the middle rounds are missing footage, but the pace never seemed to let up. A switch to orthodox seems to disorient Chitalada in the seventh - it pays off as Bernal drops and bloodies him in the eighth. But if Bernal wasn’t going to stop, then Chitalda refused to wilt. He reasserted himself behind the jab in a competitive ninth and staged a determined rally in the tenth, where he had the challenger on the backfoot in his own turf for the first time. The eleventh was tame comparatively, but Bernal remained active despite the now-obvious exhaustion. Chitalada had saved his reserves for the last round, where he outclassed his man. However, in a fight too hectic, there was really only one result that fairly rewarded them both: a draw. Chitalada would prove the greater fighter in a third meeting, though it was doubtful he’d forget the time he was pushed as hard.

39 - Arnold Taylor vs Romeo Anaya I (November 3, 1973)

I asked myself when I first made this project how lenient I was going to be with limited footage and this is pushing the envelope here. By all written accounts, Romeo Anaya vs Arnold Taylor I is one of the most brutal boxing matches the bantamweight title had ever seen. I was, for a time, under the impression that less than a minute was all we had. And then one thirteen-minute video was uploaded that shows all the major highlights and, if it isn’t apparent already, it seems to live up to reports. Neither fighter looks particularly amazing, but they more than make up for it with heart - of which they would need - as it becomes a battle of who can land the harder left hook. An answer is temporarily given as Taylor goes down in the third, but a brutal right has Anaya touching the floor two rounds later. Taylor’s lead right emerges with intent, as he would fire it with vicious abandon. It was evident that the worst place was on the ropes, but neither could seem to avoid trouble. The eighth would be complete anarchy, as Taylor would rally from the jaws of defeat after meeting the floor twice and have Anaya badly hurt again. In the tenth, Taylor was sent down again, and the twelfth had Anaya pressing more than ever with his left hook as his gamble to take the fight. The fourteenth was do-or-die for Taylor, so he went for it - a perfect right landed and this time, Anaya had nothing left.  Taylor’s ensuing reign was unlikely to be long, but with such limited footage even still, we have some commemoration of one of the greatest dramas of the seventies.

38 - Eder Jofre vs Masahiko ‘Fighting’ Harada I (May 18, 1965)

Eder Jofre had established himself as one of bantamweight’s storied kings, but his streak was about to be tested by a young king in the making, one Masahiko ‘Fighting’ Harada from Japan. Harada was a storm on the horizon in a figurative sense, but in the ring, he was every bit a dynamo, whose sheer speed could overwhelm with ease. Yet, against someone with Jofre’s accolades, he was in for a real measurement of his attributes. Jofre couldn’t just hit, he was an exceptional tactician and technician with an inclination for accuracy. He could fight savagely while being as composed as a man who had ever entered the ring. The young challenger wasted no time, determined to come at the king and not miss his shot, blistering out his jab and combinations at a superb output. Jofre, no stranger to needing to take it to the next gear, began pivoting behind his counter hook. Still, Jofre was being forced to cover quite a bit, and Harada made his mark in the fourth as he managed to achieve a rare sight of wobbling the champion’s legs. Harada was then taught a lesson, one that defined the greatest of fighters - that, when pushed to your limit, you come back. Jofre did exactly that, as he took Harada to school on the inside, blasting him over the forearms - Harada went to the wrong corner afterwards, but the message had been received.

The remainder of the contest was not as dramatic, but it remained superb. Harada reallocated his aggression around smothering Jofre up close in the clinch and controlling the tempo with his jab at range - this likely won his upset victory - but the champion made him work for it. The day that Harada beat Jofre was a passing of the torch; it was as perfect a result a matchup between greats could have been.

37 - Michael Carbajal vs Humbero ‘Chiquita’ Gonzalez I (March 13, 1993)

Throughout this list, it’s probable that you can conclude I’m a fan of the lower weights. It’s typical that they don’t get their day in the spotlight often, but, when they do, it usually means it’s a big deal. Michael Carbajal and Humberto ‘Chiquita’ Gonzalez’s first outing was one of those, for bragging rights and undisputed as the rewards. Understanding their assignment, both men engaged in a throwback, seemingly destined to only end in a finish. While Gonzalez marched his way in behind volume and shifting his stance mid-combination, Carbajal played the role of a sniper, blasting Gonzalez with the harder blows, especially off an interplay with his right cross and left hook. Carbajal was dealing out the physical damage to a now-reddened Chiquita, but it was he who would be the victim of the fight’s first dramatic moment as a series of punches sent him down in the second. From the third onward, Carbajal elected to meet his Mexican rival up close in a variation of their earlier dynamic, but with less space, inevitably more violent results ensued. The longer the exchanges got, the fire at both ends were being burnt. Carbajal’s willingness to trade saw him nearly taken out off of a second knockdown as the fifth began, but he was right back in the trenches. At some point, it was going to come down to who could take more and a left hook was what triggered the beginning of the end in the seventh as Gonzalez was finally knocked backwards for the first time. Smelling blood, Carbajal puts an end to it shortly thereafter as one of the great little men’s bouts lived up to its event.

36 - ‘Marvelous’ Marvin Hagler vs Thomas Hearns (April 15, 1985)

The first fight I ever saw was Marvelous Marvin Hagler vs Thomas Hearns. It’s an understatement to encapsulate that kind of significance - boxing’s premier historical shootout is as good an introduction to someone’s love of pugilism as any. Years in the making until Thomas Hearns challenged Hagler's ironclad throne, he was a force of nature that only Ray Leonard had overcome by the skin of his teeth. Endeavors into higher weights only added to Hearn’s reputation, as the Cobra was likened to the Hitman. But, Marvin Hagler was the man sent to kill that hitman. A brilliant all-terrain boxer himself, Hagler chose to take his opportunity for universal acclaim to heart, forcing Hearns into a promised, savage war from the opening seconds. The first round really needs no extrapolation - the ring may as well have been set on fire. Hagler’s iron beard was tested, his face showing marks of claret, yet he pursued, battered, and fought tooth-and-nail with a fellow great. The remaining minutes until Hagler took Hearns out could never measure up to what just happened - Hagler ensured that, methodically breaking down his rival with a workman pace that few could sustain. Hearns could only retreat to be pinned or wage war with the man he couldn’t back off. The night Hagler had ‘The War’, there was really only going to be one outcome after all.

I don’t think I need to say that this placement will shock some. This bout is glorious in its short length sprint. Yet, it’s exactly that it’s a dash as to why I cannot place it above the marathons. That is to say, this one will always be meaningful to me, but I just know that I’ve seen fights that contain the same levels of ferocity - and it’s only a segment of those. Still, this one deserves its due despite that: Two generational talents at their peak beginning their battle the way they did? It simply is a rarity in its own right.

35 - Ruben Olivares vs Chucho Castillo II (October 16, 1970)

Ruben Olivares was the boogeyman of his time. In his path, nothing but unconscious, battered men - even some all time greats weren’t spared. Resistance could be made, but not sustained as he broke you down. Olivares fought as if he was asking for an equal, and it was among his own countrymen that he found one: Chucho Castillo. A consummate professional capable of fighting any-and-all terrains, Castillo and Olivares differences in style and tension as contemporaries clashed in and out of the ring. Their first meeting proved that Olivares was a special fighter in victory, but Castillo was that opponent he had been waiting for as he sent Olivares down in the early rounds. Even in a loss, Castillo being a man who could go the distance was its own insult to Olivares. For his part, Castillo was burning with revenge. Driven with pride and fury, the two’s inevitable rematch was destined to be one for the ages. The twist was immediately apparent, as Castillo stood in the center, no longer playing matador, willing to lock horns with the division’s greatest bull. The opening rounds were barely pedestrian in their own right, though by the end of the third, the war was afoot. Olivares trademark left hook was his entry point to exchanges, so Castillo sought to take a risk and cater his control of engagements around his own hook. In response, the champion threw his lead right against one of the best right hands the bantamweight division had ever seen.

To simplify what was ensuing is that it might be the best technical infight on tape. To even list the adjustments and craft between two masters is an exercise in futility. From Castillo rolling with his hooks to create space to land on breaks, to Olivares using shorter punches to open up the body - to head positioning to different grips, it was a spiteful grudge match as it was an boxing enthusiast’s dream. The fight was called off in the fourteenth perhaps anticlimactically by a cut from Olivares’ brow handed him his first career defeat. Until then? It was one of the finest clashes between Mexican peers boxing had ever witnessed.

34 - Sung-kil Moon vs Nana Yaw Konadu I (January 20, 1990)

As far as bouts between pure punchers go, I believe I can call the first meeting between Sung-Kil Moon and Nana Yaw Konadu as terrifying as it can be. Moon’s background as an Olympic boxer is a deceiving one, as he was, in actuality, an unstoppable juggernaut who threw with complete disregard for anyone. Moon was impossibly tough, bordering upon supernatural, and he may well be a definite candidate for the hardest puncher super flyweight ever saw. His opponent, Konadu, was more of the boxer you’d expect Moon to be - but he had cracking blows himself. Against Moon, in defense of his WBC belt, Konadu would enter the boxing equivalent of a horror house. Moon’s punches immediately had noticeable impact; Konadu would be down twice and swollen by the end of the first. Sure, Moon paid for his assault, touching the canvas himself and taking dozens of jabs, but he had taken the Ghanian into a special hell. Attempts to jab were meant for more charges - Konadu could not sustain any positioning to plant or avoid what was coming as Moon was impervious to consideration. Konadu was floored again in the third, but his efforts did yield one reward: Moon’s face was leaking profusely. While he couldn’t see as well from blood, the South Korean continued to march and maul, as every punch seemed to draw more desperate replies from the champion. It was a visceral spectacle of carnage, as by the end of the fifth, Moon’s face looked like it had been torn by a pack of dogs while Konadu’s visage was so swollen you could mistake him for a skeleton.

There were only marginal breathers as the two slowed, but the punishment remained substantial. Konadu seemed on the verge of giving in by ninth, only for a surprise to happen: the cut on Moon stopped things anticlimactically to one of the more savage fights we’ve covered so far. It went, interestingly, to a technical decision - one that Moon’s more sustained success won the decision. For anyone in the know though, Konadu would be beaten decisively in the rematch, no doubt not having the ability to wage war with an immortal enemy again. 

33 - Micky Ward vs Arturo Gatti I (May 18, 2002)

This one really needs no introduction. The first meeting between ‘Irish’ Micky Ward and Arturo ‘Thunder’ Gatti is one of the most iconic meetings in boxing history - and likely the fan favorite fight of the 21st century. When two never-say-die action fighters of their generation collide, it’s likely to produce fireworks, and this was one of those bouts. While its placement is liable to be a controversial one, I simply like others more (Again, if this was an attempt at objectivity, this would most likely be in the #20-30 bracket). Yet, make no mistake, this one is special and deserves many of its accolades, so let’s just cut to the chase.

Gatti had always flirted the line between a focused boxer and stubborn slugger, but he started as the former. Less than a minute and first blood was drawn on Ward’s brow as Gatti’s disciplined fight was carrying him early, his speed advantage allowing him to fire dozens of punches. In reply, Ward marched behind his shell as the artillery barraged continued. He closed the gap in the third, taking advantage immediately. But, just as Ward’s determination had forced its path, he brought the warrior out of Gatti, as the war finally erupted, the two trading hellish blow for punishing returns. A key difference was soon apparent: Ward could take Gatti’s best shots - while a hammer of a right hand in the fourth had Gatti shaken. The fight was living up to its billing and, on any other night, the fifth would have been the standout round as the trades were unending and even - until they weren’t. A barrage of dozen blows earned a nod of acknowledgement from Ward - and he repaid Gatti in kind, earning an agonized expression as his rival was battered for the final seconds. Corralled by Buddy McGirt, Gatti reverted back to boxing, managing to avoid the same reckless call to war that had been on his mind since his first days as a competitor. Yet, like all things, Gatti sometimes simply couldn’t help himself - and Ward was refusing to concede ground. The eighth concluded with Gatti, suffering from wounds all over his body, reeling again. 

Round Nine. To even encapsulate three of the greatest minutes the sport has ever seen is futile, it’s a segment that stands for itself. A liver shot that would have stolen the soul of anyone with a weaker one than whatever Gatti held is followed by a series of two-way rallies between an increasingly-exhausted Ward and unendingly-tenacious Gatti. The tenth that follows could never have lived up to the same precedent, but they give it a go, throwing to the final bell.

I don’t consider this the greatest fight of all time - there are around a dozen I’d rank above it. It’s not at the top of my favorites either. Yet, it’s a cherishable, incredible thirty-minutes for a reason. If combat sports are about seeing two men give every piece of themselves, then it remains understandable why Micky Ward vs Arturo Gatti I is that iconic.

32 - Antonio Avelar vs Wilfredo Vazquez (May 30, 1986)

So, how do I follow up Gatti-Ward I? Why not a fight that is just as horrifically violent? Wilfredo Vazquez, once one half of an excellent technical battle with Miguel ‘Happy’ Lora, makes his second appearance here. Vazquez, a hitter, was a decent technician if the opportunity called, though his greatest desire was to bomb with the overhand - and he was itching for a rematch with Lora. Against the cruder, all-offense Antonio Avelar, Vazquez seemed to have an edge in accuracy, but he would learn all too well why Avelar, an insane puncher himself at the lower weights, was among the scariest of all aggressive pugilists. There was no feeling out whatsoever, Avelar was the one who starts the brawl and Vazquez’s overhand started landing with authority; everything was being launched at full power. An intense opener did nothing to make either back off; business resumed as though they were fresh in the second. Avelar may have been the one pressing, though Vazquez’s superior class was getting the slight better of it, mixing up targets between body and head. That said, Vazquez had a habit of opening his right side up and Avelar’s left hook was landing with increasing regularity. One way or another, both men were fighting like this was going to end in a knockout.

Nobody was prepared for the fifth round - I don’t really think any description does it justice. In what may be the greatest action round in boxing history, the two men get floored, Vazquez off of a left hook and Avelar faceplants from a right cross, and then engage in a trade so violent that it lasts a minute, both jockeying for a desperate inch as their foreheads rocket back from another’s unrelenting barrages. It’s inconceivable that anyone could make it through these three minutes without being knocked senseless, but they both saw that bell.

The sixth is comparatively tame - anything would be - but the intensity is as high as it was in the first twelve minutes again. At least, at first. The equilibrium gets broken again as a right from Avelar causes Vazquez to back out of the firefight, preferring to pick his spots. This doesn’t last, as they both reenter the fire late. Avelar is stunned himself early in the seventh, but, in retaliation, he grits his teeth and takes his output up a notch. The fear Vazquez exhibited in the previous round is now blatant at the sight of Avelar’s recuperative engine. A hail mary right in the eighth almost seems to curb the avalanche, but it’s no good, Avelar is too much. A coffin nail right puts Vazquez down and the referee mercifully stops the brutality from continuing.

31 - Mike McCallum vs Sumbu Kalambay II (April 1, 1991)

Truth be told, I am giving this one far more credit than it deserves. Realistically, it isn’t as good a bout as several of the ones above it, yet it is a probable candidate for the finest two-way display of technical boxing skill I’ve ever seen - it’s the fight I credit towards making me appreciate technique more than any other. Years prior, Mike McCallum was taught a boxing lesson - a phrase that sounds unbelievable every time you consider it - and he was looking for revenge. Reallocating his tools to cut down space for Kalambay to launch his patented jab, McCallum fought with ice in his veins, focused to give Kalambay no inch. If Kalambay tried to come close, he learned why McCallum’s title was ‘the Bodysnatcher’; at range, McCallum found ways to nullify the jab and land with his own to pin his once-mobile demon. Still, Sumbu Kalambay had been the one to teach lessons before - and he still had plenty of tricks left, rallying behind creative uses of the overhand and spectacular defensive maneuvers. The second half of the contest would be desperately close in an impossibly, mad-competitive ebb-and-flow, with only McCallum’s earlier control wrestling a razor-close decision.

For those who love the scientific side of boxing, this is one for you. It’s perhaps an unconventionally high spot for such a non blood-and-guts contest, but it’s a classic nonetheless and a sentimental favorite.

This concludes part seven. From here, familiarity is mixed with anarchy. We will be covering a selection where we start looking at the cream of the crop.

Thank you for reading.