Although Jai Opetaia wore three belts on his body last night, the placing of them was rather telling. You had, on his right shoulder, the IBF cruiserweight title, which had not been on the line during his unanimous decision victory over Brandon Glanton in Las Vegas. Then, over his left shoulder, you had The Ring’s cruiserweight belt, the owning of which supposedly indicates that Opetaia is the true number-one cruiserweight in the world and therefore has no need to collect or flaunt other belts to prove it.
As for the third belt on Opetaia’s person last night, that was wrapped around his waist. This, of course, was the inaugural Zuffa cruiserweight title, which Opetaia won by beating Glanton and was kindly applied to his body from behind by Dana White, the head of Zuffa Boxing. This belt, unlike the other two, was not one gathered by Opetaia of his own volition and attached to body parts of his choosing. It was instead wrapped around his waist – secured around his waist – by a man he didn’t even see coming.
Thanks to White, the belt now had pride of place on Opetaia’s body. It arrived first – before the IBF belt and The Ring belt – and it remained front and centre, the belt to which all eyes were drawn. With White’s help, it had now marked its territory. It had taken the best spot.
After all, whenever we imagine the archetypal world champion boxer, we picture a belt around their waist before we picture a belt slung over their shoulder. In that sense, the Zuffa Boxing belt, though fresh on the scene, was more symbolic of Opetaia being a world champion than any other he carried with him in Las Vegas. That includes The Ring magazine belt, merely an afterthought, as well as the IBF belt Opetaia has won twice and defended on five occasions.
Indeed, as if to hammer the point home, Max Kellerman, an employee of Zuffa Boxing, was after the fight determined to press reset on Opetaia’s four-year cruiserweight reign and start again. He did so by putting the emphasis on the belt around the Australian’s waist, and what that means, while ignoring Opetaia’s desire to collect belts rather than simply defend a belt that, to date, has no real significance.
“You are the recognised Ring magazine champ and you’re now the first-ever Zuffa cruiserweight champion of the world,” Kellerman said in the ring. “Who would you like to make your first title defence against?” He then paused. “Zuffa title defence,” he stressed.
“Man, I’m chasing the belts,” Opetaia, now 30-0 (23 KOs), said. “I know there’s been a lot of white noise and stuff, and a lot of stuff on social media, but I’m hoping we can get it worked out and I can chase that goal. I have not lost track of it. I never have. I’ve been stripped once before and I’ve been stripped again. I’ll be getting the belt back and will become undisputed.”
At the time of that post-fight interview Opetaia had reason to believe he had been stripped of the IBF title he held on his right shoulder. However, he was less sure of that in the post-fight press conference, when he expressed a glimmer of hope that this might not be the case.
Either way, more important than whether he has been stripped or not is the fact that Opetaia’s instinct, when asked about defending belts, was to mention his plan to “chase” them rather than defend them. This suggests that he is, despite signing with the organisation, not content with being a Zuffa cruiserweight champion and trying to create an identity as a world champion with just that title. It suggests he still pines for what may or may not have been lost – whether that’s a belt or a dream.
“I think you are undisputed, you just don’t know that yet,” said Kellerman, both cognisant and fearful of Opetaia’s sentimentality. “In the eyes of most boxing fans you already are undisputed in spite of whatever the belts have to say.” He then asked Opetaia if he had an interest in fighting Gilberto Ramirez, the WBA and WBO cruiserweight champion, to which Opetaia replied: “WBC, WBO, WBA, whatever. I’ve been chasing these unification fights for such a long time. I made it very clear. Now I’m holding the most belts. I’ve got three belts; he’s [Ramirez] got two. Let’s get it on.”
Again, this wasn’t what Kellerman or his paymasters had in mind by way of a response. In fact, rather than Opetaia playing the perfect model for their garish new belt, the answers he offered while in the ring wearing the Zuffa belt had the opposite effect. If anything, they served to render the belt as inconsequential; a mere accessory gifted to him by his new fancy man; a Rolex watch.
“Undisputed first,” Opetaia reiterated when Kellerman mentioned a move to heavyweight, where, of course, Opetaia could one day become the Zuffa heavyweight champion. “Don’t lose track of what I’m trying to say. Undisputed, then we talk about the other ones.”
In spite of the best efforts of Kellerman, the Paramount commentary team, and Dana White coming up from behind, Opetaia’s intentions were clear and obvious after beating Glanton in Las Vegas. He wants the belts, that much we know. He doesn’t just want one belt – whether that’s a brand-new one, or one owned by a Saudi Arabian financier – nor does he want to be told the value of a belt by someone who has no idea what they are talking about. Instead, as the fighter, Opetaia knows what he wants and knows what it means – to him.
Besides, perhaps it is now too late to recondition the minds of boxers who have for decades been told that superiority is the result of being “unified” or “undisputed” and that those two things require more than just one belt. Perhaps it is not so easy to undo the mess created by sanctioning bodies – of which there are far too many, it’s true – and convince the boxers who pay their sanctioning fees that there is another way to now show you are the best in the world.
On the face of it, advocates of this approach – Zuffa, The Ring – are right. They are right to sell us a world in which only one belt matters and every fighter in the division has their sights set on obtaining this belt. Yet unfortunately, just as the image of the boxer with the belt around their waist is the one we automatically recall when thinking of a world champion, so is the image of the boxer holding a green belt or a red belt or a black belt the one that comes to mind when thinking the same thing. More importantly, it is the image of the world champion buried in belts that fighters like Jai Opetaia will associate with the goal he is chasing and has been chasing since he turned pro. There are no images available of Muhammad Ali wearing the Zuffa Boxing heavyweight title. Nor are there any images of Oleksandr Usyk or Evander Holyfield wearing the belt Opetaia won last night in Las Vegas.
Opetaia would have known all this going in, of course. He would have known when aligning himself with Zuffa Boxing that the prospect of becoming their inaugural cruiserweight champion would feel simultaneously satisfying and empty. In being the first, he would have expected to feel proud, important, and bolstered by the publicity. But being first can also be lonely and can leave one feeling a little lost and bewildered. After all, what, at this stage, does any of it really mean? What does it mean to be a Zuffa cruiserweight champion in 2026?
Presumably it means getting well paid, which, for a cruiserweight, is not an easy thing to achieve, hence so many move to heavyweight. Money is also the main motivating factor for the majority of professional boxers and something they will remind you of whenever you, a non-boxer, become fixated on the idea of legacy. They will remind you, as they are entitled to, that “legacy doesn’t pay the bills” or do much for a boxer in the bleak wilderness that is retirement. They will remind you as well that the career of a professional boxer is a short one and that the window of opportunity, as far as earning life-changing money goes, tends to be even shorter.
All true, it is only when a boxer is accosted from behind and given a new belt to replace the old one they worked so hard to acquire that the idea of “legacy” becomes something else. Now it is connected to identity, purpose, the realising of a dream. Now it is something tangible, worth holding on to. Now you understand that when discussing one’s career in retirement, it is that – legacy – people want to know about, not how much you made in purse money.
If, back in Australia, Opetaia is approached this week and asked what he does for a living, it won’t take much effort on his part to explain the job of a professional boxer. Even if he is asked about the level at which he competes, Opetaia can then say, with ample pride, that he is a world champion in his sport and has yet to experience defeat in a 10-and-a-half-year professional career.
If, however, he should be pressed to reveal which world title he currently holds, suddenly you might see beads of sweat on the world champion’s forehead as he figures out how best to clarify the situation in which he now finds himself. If he says Zuffa, they might think of one of the Marx Brothers, while The Ring, that is the domain in which two boxers fight, not something you receive for being the best in the world.
Because of this confusion, Opetaia will revert to thinking in terms of acronyms, or three letters: IBF, WBC, WBA, WBO. He could even decide to mention the three letters of the world-famous Ultimate Fighting Championship – the UFC – and explain that Zuffa has something to do with that. “But I thought you said you were a boxer?” he will then hear as he tries to escape.
