At the start of Terence Crawford's history-making bout against Canelo Alvarez, Max Kellerman remarked that he'd never seen a fight with as dramatic stakes for one man's legacy as this match did for Crawford. If Crawford won, he'd cement himself as his generation's greatest fighter. If he lost, he'd be written off as a guy who couldn't quite reach greatness in his biggest fight.
The downside I thought was a bit harsh. But the upside was right, as was the overall tenor: A Crawford victory would rocket him to the top of the all-time greats list; a loss and he'd be viewed as a very good fighter but not one making any major historical mark.
Whatever dispute I and Kellerman might have is moot, of course. Crawford soundly outboxed Canelo, winning a unanimous decision and instantly making his status as one of the greatest to ever lace up gloves inarguable.
It is amazing, when one thinks about it, how Crawford got to this point while essentially -- as far as the wider world is concerned -- being an unknown. Terence Crawford is not a household name. I don't think I've ever seen him in a beer commercial or doing a cameo Hollywood appearance. But he has quietly, decisively, been a dominant force in the sport for over a decade.
This fight against Alvarez reportedly marked the first time Crawford had been a betting underdog since his 2013 match against Breidis Prescott. Though not the most scintillating performance, that fight was a coming out party for Bud. He came in on short notice as, more-or-less. a nobody -- a decent amateur pedigree but not from a boxing hotbed (Omaha, Nebraska) and without much hype behind him. Boxing fans, frankly, are familiar with this archetype -- glossy record but Podunk background equals soft-touch for a bigger name still riding off his Amir Khan upset. Instead, Crawford cruised to an easy victory, soundly outboxing his Columbian opponent -- but not in a way that instantly suggested "a star is born."
Yet from then on out, Crawford was nothing but dominant. He dropped down to lightweight to win a title against Ricky Burns, and from that point forward never left the upper echelons of the sport. If Prescott was the last time that Crawford was a betting underdog, we could also ask when was the last time Crawford seemed to be truly challenged in a fight. For me, that was the very early rounds against Yuriorkis Gamboa -- but Crawford turned that fight around with a vengeance, dropping Gamboa four times from the fifth round forward en route to a ninth round stoppage. And after that, can one remember a point where Crawford genuinely, seriously seemed to be in trouble in the ring? It is no disrespect to Canelo to say it didn't happen last night -- not that Crawford dominated Alvarez, but he always seemed in control, always seemed just a little bit better.
How can one be so dominant, for so long, and have nobody outside the sport's insiders really know you? Part of it was temperament -- as noted, he never seemed interested in making himself into a celebrity. But even in the ring, Crawford's was a deceiving appearances sort of domination. He was never viewed as a knockout artist, even though he had plenty of fighters. He wasn't seen as a search-and-destroy punisher, but he was a ferocious finisher.
What he had was a preternatural sense of control, coupled with one of the meanest streaks I've ever seen in the ring. Crawford liked to beat people up. And he was very good at it.
Look at the cast of characters whose careers Crawford essentially ended, at least at the upper echelon of the sport. On his way to unifying the junior welterweight division, Crawford demolished both Viktor Postol and Julius Indongo; both were undefeated, both became essential non-entities in boxing going forward. Felix Diaz fought only had one more win after Crawford beat him in 2017; Jeff Horn only won twice. Jose Benavidez was never the same after Crawford was through with him. Amir Khan and Kell Brook were basically sent into a swan song against each other after Crawford violently dispatched both. He sent Shawn Porter into retirement; he may have done the same to Errol Spence. These are very, very good fighters. Crawford didn't just beat them. He wrecked them.
And yet even then, many thought this fight against Canelo was a gimmick. Crawford had unified at 147, and then he did what a lot of folks did in pursuing a vanity title at 154 pounds. This is no disrespect to Crawford; it's a career move we've seen from many of the greats around his size. Floyd Mayweather did it; Oscar de la Hoya did it, Manny Pacquiao did it. And I don't think we're disrespecting Israil Madrimov to point out this his name isn't quite in the same class as Errol Spence or Shawn Porter or Kell Brook. But jumping up another two weight classes on top of that? To face the biggest star in the sport and a man who was still one of the pound-for-pound elites? It seemed absurd. It seemed like a cash grab.
It was neither. It was greatness.
At the end of the fight, Crawford dedicated his win to the nobodies. For so long, despite all of his accomplishments, Terence Crawford was one of those nobodies. Now, through sheer talent and force of will, he has made himself into somebody the sport will never forget.
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