Top 100 Favorite Boxing Matches: #20-11
This is part nine of the ten-part series. Whatever I’ve said before doesn’t require much repeating, it’s the same case. There is no correct order to anything at this point. These are the best of the best regardless.
20 - Benny Paret vs Luis Frederico Thompson II (December 10, 1960)
Benny ‘The Kid’ Paret was, if nothing else, relentless in his dogged aspirations; when the bell sounded, he started with the intention of treating his encounters exactly as they were: a fight. While his efforts as one of the premier action fighters of the generation had its own cost, Paret was must-watch material and the right dance partner could bring out thrills like no other. Stylistic boxer Luis Frederico Thompson had shared ten hard-fought rounds with Paret prior to their title bout, though perhaps nothing could really encapsulate one of the closest, high-volume battles on footage. Paret would take the front foot, searching for his power rights and flurries to the body, while Thompson waged on his versatility, thriving at setting up lever punches at all sections of Paret’s body. Thompson’s upper body movement was rather unorthodox insofar as letting him land with regularity, though it meant a well-timed punch to his pulls could put him in straits. There wasn’t much feeling out, though the second round was where the action turned up to the max dial. Thompson blasted Paret’s inside attack with counter uppercuts, proving he could match the output of his rival, though the rights from the defending champion kept him honest. By the end of the third, an incremental difference had shown itself: Thompson was unbelievably durable, though his face was bloodied and he couldn’t send Paret on the retreat without significant efforts. Still, the Argentinian was one for answers - he would spend entire rounds boxing Paret’s face off even if he couldn’t move him back. Any respite in action would be temporary, the ebb-and-flow was constant. By the ninth, the war had resumed in full, with the thirteenth in particular being a barnburner of a round, concluding with Thompson wobbled late. They let it all hang out in the final rounds, Thompson attempting to try to make some desperate effort to separate them - he barely succeeded late, as he finally had Paret hurt in the final seconds. It wouldn’t be enough to take the title, but the two of them tore the house down that night, waging perhaps the finest brawl of the 1960s.
19 - George Foreman vs Ron Lyle (January 24, 1976)
George Foreman’s fall from the throne was met with the inevitable self-expectation of a comeback. One thing was clear, at the hands at such a devastating loss, Foreman needed to win back the crowd and see that he was still the monster he had always been. But that era was no easy one, and few understood that better than Ron Lyle. There was no title victory on Lyle’s resume, though there was no fear in Lyle’s face regardless of who he fought. The prospect of fighting Foreman was a name to elevate his. A terrifying puncher? Lyle had just gone toe-to-toe with Earnie Shavers - another famous hitter - only to get up from a knockdown to outlast him in sixth. Lyle set out to prove that point and another - he could punch hard himself. He got in Foreman’s face and had him hurt in the final seconds of the opening round; Big George’s redemption arc wasn’t coming full circle, but it wasn’t over yet. Foreman played with rhythm behind his jab in volume, drawing Lyle into a monstrous uppercut - in a reversal of fortunes, it was now Lyle in trouble. Inexplicably, the round ended early, though both men’s fires were not: they stared daggers at another at the bell, perhaps recognizing the crossroads at which they stood. The third wouldn’t be dramatic, as Foreman maintained the edge in control while Lyle kept things tense with his aggression. Yet, as I write this, I can only imagine nobody was prepared for what was about to come about.
Five minutes of absolute chaos.
Foreman’s jab was countered by a murderous right early in the fourth, and soon, the former champion was on the floor. He was pursued and battered further, his only recourse was to throw back. Suddenly, it was Lyle whose back hit the deck - his bravery was that of an immortal to trade like that, but he still had a mortal’s body. The technique of both men had disappeared - it was now as pure a kill-or-be-killed shootout boxing had ever seen as savagery was prioritized over safety. I consider myself a technical appreciator by nature, but there’s something so uncanny about this happening that it can’t be ignored - this was a spectacle. Foreman’s punches blistered Lyle, only he suddenly ran into the same trap Lyle had, his head spun by a meteoric hook. Space disappeared as punches filled them and Foreman’s skull faceplanted for the second knockdown of the round, leaving a mark of blood where he landed.
The round mercifully ended, though the action didn’t cease, as the fifth was where bedlam reigned just as much. Foreman attempted to smother Lyle, only to run into a left hook that had him wobbling. Both men were showing extreme fatigue; their footwork was as gone as their awareness. An uppercut from hell knocked Foreman’s head to the rafter, but he returned it with a desperate cross that shook Lyle to his feet. Barely a pause seemed to register that neither man was there - that the first one who stepped forward was the deciding winner. It was George Foreman - his drive for proof that he was no derailed hype train - who took that directive. Lyle crashed backwards to the ropes, covering up for survival. It never came, as Foreman pummeled Lyle into the ground, concluding the astonishing exhibition at last. Foreman was vindicated at last, and it took baring his heart from an equally brave contender to show it.
18 - Roman Gonzalez vs Srisket Sor Rungvisai I (March 18, 2017)
At some point, there’s a wall you run into. In the case of pugilists, the scaling is often a measurement of fortitude as it is greatness. Roman ‘Chocolatito’ Gonzalez was as special as any modern boxer, decimating his way through the lower weight classes with nearly unrivaled combination punching. He was simply undeniable, a force of nature who answered resistance with pinpoint beatings. Even though the larger men were leaving their marks, Gonzalez just couldn’t be beaten. And yet, minutes into his title defense of the newly-attained Super Flyweight title, he was knocked down for the first time in years. It was a body shot that did it, though he had fallen back instead of crumpling from pain, yet the knee he took suggested that it was every bit a necessity to regain his composure in light of what he was facing. Srisket Sor Rungvisai, formerly one Wisaksil Wangek, was an underdog, but he had come into the ring with a certain ferocity. Not only was he a physical warhorse, he was successfully doing what few could do: actively trade with the Nicaraguan. Juan Francisco Estrada had shown that it was possible to exchange with Gonzalez, but there was an even worse dilemma for Gonzalez though, and it was that Sor Rungvisai was able to push him back. The Thai bulled the champion against the ropes, launching sledgehammers - and Gonzalez made the choice to scale the wall: a one-two blasted into the challenger’s face, it was answered and received its own reply. The greatest war the super flyweight division had seen was on and was not going to relent as Gonzalez steeled himself to give his entire being against a man with everything to gain. The exchanges stand amongst the finest of any fight, as both men tear into another.
Gradually, Chocolatito’s variety started to take over; his right snapped Sor Rungvisai’s head across the ring; uppercuts set up more punishment; and finally, when none of his head shots seemed to faze the impossibly-durable Thai, a perfect liver shot had Sor Rungvisai on the retreat in the sixth. Still, Sor Rungvisai, already having been a man of surprises, showed he was not simply an offensive specialist. In the seventh, he employed some lateral boxing behind a jab - willfully picking his spots between brawling and keeping his distance for the second half of the contest. The fight never lost an ounce of its physical nature however, the two continued to try to punch holes through each other. Between head clashes and Sor Rungvisai’s power able to hit Gonzalez behind his guard, Gonzalez was christened in blood. The violence was so intense that ringside medical officials were asking the fighters questions between rounds, but this stopped nothing as the two continued to trade rounds with the same ebb-and-flow of their unrivaled exchanges, harkening back to the golden days. They were simply soldiers that would have fit in any era. After Sor Rungvisai controlled the eleventh, no longer hiding his smile between tanking hellish blows in a thrilling affair, Gonzalez ventured to close the show in style in the twelfth, battering the challenger around the ring.
The result was, needless to say, controversial, as Sor Rungvisai’s efforts earned a majority decision while many believed the champion was the clear winner. This does nothing to tarnish the fight though - it is every bit as special as it gets.
17 - Diego Corrales vs Jose Luis Castillo I (May 7, 2005)
It was impossible to expect anything less than a great fight between Diego Corrales and Jose Luis Castillo. Corrales was all for blood-and-guts, he would give everything. And Castillo, a man made of pure rock, was more than willing to stand his ground. There really is no finer way to describe an unfortunately under attended event that would host this modern epic, but Corrales-Castillo I really was that special.
Expectations were immediately surpassed as Corrales was the one pushing the envelope of aggression instead of Castillo - though the latter did answer the dance as the round ensued as the inside battle that would define the decade was breaking out in full. Corrales would learn full well the Mexican was called ‘El Temible’. Castillo unleashed his country’s trademark, the left to the body, and followed that up with thunderous uppercuts to break Corrales’ posture. But the second round’s final minute had flurries by Corrales draw a shocking sight of a wobbled Castillo - these same hooks would cut Castillo by the fourth. The combat was simply mesmerizing, every round was mad competitive. Like Corrales did on the inside, Castillo showed he could compete at range if Corrales separated. The astonishing achievement was that the contest wasn’t just punishing, it was escalating in intensity. The end of the sixth had Corrales waving his adversary on despite being rocked to his toes in a wild exchange. The seventh had the scars of tissue under Corrales’ eyes swell from the fight that simply could not slow down, but he had Castillo almost down at the bell.
The eighth somehow exceeded all that came before, as Corrales marched Castillo down, rattling him multiple times over - and Castillo had Corrales’ mouthpiece out and his legs wilting late. The ninth finally showed fatigue on both sides, though the punishment just didn’t stop. How could this possibly get any better?
I ultimately have come to the conclusion that there is no amount of superlatives to describe the tenth. The fight’s legend comes full circle from its beginning to here. In a fight that only got better as it progressed, it ended with two minutes that transcend anything else. It’s impossible to even understand what truly could have led Corrales to find the perfect punches to turn the tide of disaster. Two knockdowns and and a point deduction from desperately catching wind, Corrales took to his cornerman’s final directive as if nothing else matters. Castillo was a man who had never been hurt prior to this fight, but Corrales had done the seemingly impossible before. He did it one more time, stopping Castillo at last.
16 - Tony Canzoneri vs Kid Chocolate I (November 20, 1931)
This is the one for the purists, the technique enthusiasts, and the history buffs. All-time greats Tony Canzoneri and Kid Chocolate put on an enchanting fifteen-round bout that may be the closest fight on this entire project. The audio and visuals, as well as the date, should not fool you - and once you begin watching, you’ll understand why these are the kinds of pugilists who could compete in any area. Canzoneri stalks Kid Chocolate with his hands low, confident in his preternatural timing to close the distance and make it the physical fight he was favored in. He jabbed with the slickster at range, determined to not let the Cuban have his way with controlling the entries. But, once they engaged in close quarters, Canzoneri found himself fighting tooth-and-nail with a determined contemporary. Both were too great to get overwhelmed and equally excellent at finding their moments. It should go without saying that this is my favorite ‘technical’ fight - it is certainly a serious candidate for the closest I’ve seen. Only the fourth, where an arguable knockdown by Canzoneri kickstarts another incredible moment, and the fourteenth, where Chocolate boxes circles around his man, are clear. Every round is so competitive that the onlookers were split by default. Until then, you could witness some of the most aesthetic fighting as trades where both men slipped and repositioned in ways that seemed like they saw everything in slow motion. One way or another though, there was greatness in that ring.
15 - Matthew Saad Muhammad vs Yaqui Lopez II (July 13, 1980)
Roberto Duran vs Ray Leonard is one of the most iconic superfights in history that delivered on its namesake. Yet, it did not win Fight of the Year for 1980. And the reason why is that Matthew Saad Muhammad just had to have one the crown jewels of his career made. As I wrote in a previous entry, Saad sat upon a throne forged in his own blood, but that just made it all the harder for anyone to take it away from him. There were no easy title defenses in this generation at light heavyweight. Yaqui Lopez, his next challenger, had learned that the hard way. He had challenged for the title before, only to come up short each time. He had also met Saad years prior, managed to hurt him in the eighth, but came up short in a contest dictated by a jab, and swiftly finished. And here was his golden opportunity: to avenge a loss and to be known as the best in the world. Both champion and challenger had one main similarity though: while they were excellent technicians, the allure of engaging was irresistible.
It was Saad who actually set the tone, ending a strafing duel of lead hands with a flurry to the body. The challenger showed his own hand, alternating between his inner brawler and gifted boxer, outjabbing Saad on the outside and then outpositioning him up close. He pushed the champion to the ropes, unloading more when Saad waved him in. He remembered that grin, but he was here to win despite it. Pressed by urgency, Saad’s corner admonished him to push behind the jab to make it a physically exhausting battle - they were making a gamble that Lopez couldn’t keep it up, but, at the moment, Lopez was responding. Here to win the fight of his life, the challenger fought tooth-and-nail with the champion, getting the better of the rounds, but things were escalating and escalating. And then came round eight, the favorite three-minute stanza of this writer:
Saad Muhammad’s physical advantages were finally paying off and his jab soon had the brow of Yaqui Lopez split open. A series of seemingly endless lefts pinned Lopez, but then a combo collided on the champion’s head. And then more. And more. And even more - Yaqui Lopez’s countenance became an unrecognizable force of nature as he turned into a wood chipper. He had landed well over dozens of punches, but Saad was still there - the grin from the nightmares was back and Lopez’s arms wilted. Now it was the champion’s turn, he charged Lopez, both landing until the bell rung.
The following stanzas seemed to be a formality for a rest period, though it didn’t last long. This was an epic of two halves after all - and it was Saad’s determination and legendary toughness that was pressing the action now. He had some catching up to do in rounds, gradually upping the volume, though the challenger wasn’t ready to call it quits. Lopez reallocated himself to countering in close, waging rallies as Saad’s assault increased in volume. The end of the thirteenth was Lopez’s last stand in this battle of wills - he would continue to try to stand in the fourteenth, only multiple knockdowns forced the recognizition that his body couldn’t keep up with his heart.
Like so many before, Lopez realized that you just could not outwill Matthew Saad Muhammad - that you’d need more than a wood chipper to excavate the rock that the champion was made of. But he did leave his mark, managing to help contribute to the breakthrough down the road.
14 - Bobby Chacon vs Cornelius Boza-Edwards II (May 15, 1983)
Bobby Chacon was a lunatic, the kind of fighter who, between unfathomable determination to win, had no consolations of restraint in engaging in firefights that others would refuse to do so. Cornelius Boza-Edwards was, as the very first bout on this list proved, cut from a similar cloth. Thirteen rounds of hell ended in a stoppage for Chacon years ago, but, here they were again, set to wage havoc on each other’s lifespans. Chacon launched his straight from the get-go, setting the tone that any sort of feeling out process was simply a courtesy. Boza-Edwards replied by matching the aggression, firing out his jab with authority, then pushed Chacon into the corners with combinations - and a series of rights had Edwards reeling back. One final trade saw the Ugandan touch the ground. It might have been a slip, but either way a count was given. This was all the first round. The second would top that, as Boza-Edwards muscled Chacon to the ropes. Bobby was no slouch at weaving and pitching punches there, but he was in no better position as blood was drawn. Suddenly, a right crashed in his challenger and this time, there was no question - Chacon had scored a legitimate knockdown this time. This did nothing to stop Boza-Edwards; he scored his own knockdown in the third, drawing a cheeky grin from the champion, whose almost-lackadaisical love of war contrasted the sheer carnage that was enveloping.
From there, Boza-Edwards went to work - he didn’t feel he had a choice. At range, Chacon’s power advantage punished Edwards’ static posture. For several rounds, Boza-Edwards would have moments of being badly hurt from the piston right. In between Chacon’s successes, the challenger waged a seemingly unending attack, blistering Chacon in corners and smothering him with the confidence that he could finish him again was sustained damage. And it was for good reason: Chacon’s face was adorned with blood from multiple cuts, leading to the main drama of the contest as to whether or not the doctors would stop it. Would this slow any of the action? That would be wishful thinking, as two of the greatest action fighters of their generation tore into another with the kind of fervor that you’d think there was a genuine blood feud. Boza-Edwards was racking up the points, but he wasn’t escaping punishment himself. It was a question of if he could keep it up enough to make the fight stop itself. It didn’t matter, Chacon’s zombified visage kept coming back from the grave and, in the final fourth, Boza-Edwards’ legs were as unstable as Chacon’s face. The exchanges were nonstop and out-of-this-world - but Chacon was somehow the one who was outhustling his rival. All Edwards could do was keep throwing, but any snap was gone and, in the twelfth, Chacon danced circles around him, shuffling his feet, and scoring one last knockdown to clinch a polarizing split-decision win on the scorecards.
To think that this somehow isn’t the best fight of Bobby Chacon’s portfolio is frankly maddening.
13 - Erik Morales vs Marco Antonio Barrera I (February 19, 2000)
There is much speculation for what caused the personal contempt between Mexican countrymen, whether it was class differences, the pressure of representing Mexico in succession of Julio Cesar Chavez, or even just that basic dislike, Erik Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera brought their feelings for another into the ring, making for one of the most iconic, action-packed trilogies of the 21st century, yet it’s their first meeting that truly sets the standard. The unification super bantamweight belt had no feeling out, Barrera stormed out of the gate with his trademark left hook, drawing a taunt from his younger rival, who followed up his bravado with proof that it was no bluff: a blistering right crashed into Barrera’s face. The exchanges only continued, an all-terrain battle was fully in the mix. It soon became apparent that Morales, always one to trade, found himself actually outgunned, earning some horrific blows to the midsection that wouldn’t cease until the battle’s conclusion - and often succeeded by equally spiteful blows that spun his head back. But Morales was far from done, redoubling efforts behind a jab to make the contest as close as possible. The fighting escalated until it reached its pinnacle in an epic fifth, where Morales answered Barrera’s monstrous blows with a one-minute boxing lesson, delivering a perfect combination of fury and class to batter his man around the center ring - only it couldn’t last, as Barrera caught him with a series of punches to get a receipt of his own.
There was no quarter asked nor given - this was a war bred through perhaps the purest hostility. The sixth was far slower, though Morales pressed the action to control the momentum.
The second half of the contest would eclipse the first significantly. From the seventh onward, some of the most vicious, mal-intentioned punches ever thrown would be unleashed between the two. With Barrera’s power and defensive edge, Morales endeavored to pour on volume, managing to make every stanza as difficult as possible, though he struggled to escape being pushed and battered on the ropes. With both men tiring, it became arduous to control ranges, so trading became an inevitability - neither’s pride refused to let the other get an easy edge. Rounds would end with the sort of intensity that few fights could match. The ninth would rival the fifth in quality, starting with Barrera’s three-punch combinations knocking Morales into the ropes. ‘El Terrible’ was in trouble and his bruised face seemed discouraged for the first time. Only, that worry disappeared, as he staged a rally from hell himself, tearing Barrera’s high guard apart and slicing the cheekbone open. Morales simply wouldn’t be denied, but his assault was answered with equal vehemence: another three-piece from the same abyss Morales fought his way out of sent him reeling at the bell.
Morales responded with a refusal to wilt in the tenth, zeroing in on prioritizing his right cross, visibly causing Barrera’s legs to shake on multiple occasions. However, the culmination of Barrera’s savage body attack seemed to finally lock Morales down in the closing stages of the eleventh - though both men were visibly blistered and gasping for oxygen in preparation for the final round. It can be said that fights allow pugilists to bear their wills to one another - it was true here as, both ‘El Terrible’ and ‘The Baby-Faced Assassin’ nodded at another and touched gloves in acknowledgment before getting back to work; regardless of feelings, the other understood who the other was. Surged by desperation, perseverance, and bravery, the two started their finale with trades, one Barrera got the better of, but Morales continued to have a bounce in his step to set up the right. However, as it had before, Barrera’s ring generalship was superior - he cornered Morales to the ropes again, nearly blasted his head into the stratosphere. Seconds later, Morales was on a knee, as the referee declared a knockdown to his protests. Replays would show it was a slip, though it didn’t matter - Morales earned himself one last wind, stepping right back into the fire with his nemesis, trading until the bell.
The result was a controversial one, as the fight was scored to the younger man, but there’s no disputing that the 21st century could not have begun with a finer fight.
12 - Johnny Bratton vs Charley Fusari (March 14, 1951)
While two men had significant pop in their hands, Johnny Bratton and Charley Fusari could not be more different stylistically. Bratton, a flashy, athletic specimen, was all about his rhythm and picking the single perfect sharpshooting blows. He boxed like he was a dancer; he was a natural in the boxing ring. Charley Fusari was the quintessential workman, trained with discipline and somehow still had an even greater drive. By the early 1950s, both men had had storied caries of highs and lows, but one way or another: Their pairing was to decide who would succeed the great Ray Robinson’s throne on one March day. If their styles were so distinct from another, then it almost seemed poetic that they matched up perfectly to provide a fight for the ages.
Fusari was the one who lit the fuse - he got around Bratton’s speed by outpositioning him and attempting to punish the footwork. By the end of the second, Fusari’s jab was the menace of his game, trying Bratton into his real-intentioned punches. Bratton had been hurt in the opening rounds, but he came alive with a big third round, relying on his lead right to close the distance and blast Fusari around with regularity. His speed could only be described as mesmerizing, and the advantage let him floor Fusari in the early portions of the fourth, though he was facing heavy resilience as his opponent came alive to rattle him in the latter half. To compensate for Bratton’s hair-trigger replies, Fusari diversified his game to jab with Bratton, stepping in with them to draw more mistakes out of Bratton’s feet. As wild as the affair had been, there was an astonishing amount of nuance happening as both men tried to outsmart each other to avoid being the one hurt again. Bratton continued to get the better of it, having Fusari stunned in the fifth - and it led to the sixth, where Bratton bombarded him, only to face surges of life time-and-time again as the exchanges intensified. Amazingly, it was Fusari’s workrate that was doggedly turning the tide - Bratton found himself badly hurt as the seventh round closed - and Bratton, trying to find his breath, looked for his moments again. The ninth saw Fusari’s chin hold him as he crowded Bratton for a longer firefight, leading to an incredible tenth. Fusari’s sustained body offense seemed to force Bratton into a defensive fight, only that led to Fusari knocked down again by a hellish counter right. The remainder would be nonstop action of what had been ten rounds of unforgettable chaos.
The final third could not measure up to what had transpired, but it still was excellent in its own right. Fusari would be the one who would mostly boss the last five rounds, though not without running into the trademark Bratton punches that could force the same tug-a-war to go the other way. If anything else, the recovery of both men was the story; with how many times either had been battered, the other came back. The final round would be fittingly close, as it almost should have been. Bratton would win the decision, his knockdowns being the slightest of margins for a victory.
11 - Daniel Zaragoza vs Paul Banke II (April 23, 1990)
Paul Banke and the defending WBC champion Daniel Zaragoza had torn the house down the previous year, with the latter winning a hard-fought decision. Zaragoza was a man whose heart was beyond imagination - and his repertoire for excellent, blood-and-guts fights were as fine a demonstration as any of just how great his will was. But he was the man who beat Banke for his dream, and that was all the motivation Banke, driven by his own innate psychotic impulses, to give it all back. What the Great Western Forum witnessed was one of the most savage brawls any combat sports would ever see, as Banke stormed out of the gate to bring Zaragoza’s inner warrior to the forefront. Valleys upon volleys were launched early by the two southpaws - Zaragoza looking to close Banke out with his lead hook and counter with the left, while Banke fired out his jab to rip the midsection, only to follow up with an overhand. The openings rounds set the stage, whereas round three delivered in full - by the end, Banke’s nose was bloodied and the first of soon-to-be more cuts emerged on Zaragoza’s face.
With exchanges that would put the vast majority of this list to shame, Zaragoza and Banke were fighting as though this was more personal than just a sporting match. Somehow, the fifth and sixth eclipsed the third, with both men tearing into another like the other was their only meal in days, nothing but feral assaults, followed by heroic rallies - both were taking horrific punishment and that only surged the other on. While Banke had taken just as much, he was the one driving the contest into a constant war, but Zaragoza thrived so much in that kind of world that onlookers couldn’t fathom. Carved with blood across his expression, Zaragoza smiled at his challenger as rounds concluded. There was no intent for this one to go the distance, Banke, after some tough rounds prior, entered the ninth. Finally, he had Zaragoza hurt - and a hook had him down at last. It was over, but Zaragoza got back up and roared Banke to give his absolute all one last time, for one last trade. Nobody, likely not even Zaragoza, expected a shift in the tide; it was just a matter of principle to who Zaragoza was. He was cut down on his own terms, but he was the first man to congratulate Banke at the end of a fight that personifies violence.
This concludes part nine. Only my ten favorites remain. Thank you for reading.