Hours before the clocks went forward in Great Britain, Moses Itauma, the Gen Z heavyweight deemed boxing’s Next Big Thing, gave us a glimpse of the future by way of a five-round demolition of Jermaine Franklin. It was a fight not only timed to perfection, as far as Itauma’s progression is concerned, but one Itauma would finish with a beautifully-timed left uppercut to the point of Franklin’s chin. It was also a fight that came at a time when every other heavyweight around Itauma appears to be trying to slow down the passing of time and roll back the clock rather than push it forward and show us where the division is heading.
In that respect, Itauma’s victory over Franklin last night in Manchester could be as important as any other heavyweight win this year. It is certainly more important than whatever Tyson Fury does with Arslanbek Makhmudov on April 11, or whatever Oleksandr Usyk does with kickboxer Rico Verhoeven in May. Because while those two fights indicate a slowing down or, at best, a desire to stall, everything about Itauma right now suggests the complete opposite. One look at Itauma and you see only urgency and ambition. This is true of his matchmaking, which has been aggressive from the start, as well as his performances in the ring. Still just 21, he can afford to bide his time, yet Itauma shows no signs of waiting his turn.
In fact, Franklin, a heavyweight never previously stopped, was dragged in to fight him for the sole purpose of keeping Itauma in check and slowing him down against his will. The hope, in choosing someone like Franklin, was that Itauma would have to take his time and perhaps even go a few rounds; something all-important in the learning process.
The problem is, no sooner had last night’s fight begun than it became apparent Itauma himself had other ideas. Even if he knew the importance of getting rounds and biding his time, Itauma, like any 21-year-old, has particular urges and needs. Not just that, the Itauma body works on instinct and that instinct is to do damage and get it done quickly. Against Franklin last night, that meant starting typically fast and immediately knocking him off balance with a right hook from his southpaw stance. It then meant busting Franklin up with right jabs, which he threw with middleweight speed, and showcasing a neat left cross-right hook combination which also brought him plenty of success as the bout progressed.
Already, as early as round one, Franklin cut an uncharacteristically anxious figure. His posture was relaxed, true of all his fights, but his face carried a look of concern, presumably due to the speed of the punches coming his way. The first right hook may have only knocked him off balance, but another thrown later in the round, following a left cross, buckled Franklin’s legs and caused him to sag into the ropes.
That, for Franklin, was just a sample. In the next round, round two, more Itauma jabs were snapping back Franklin’s head and a left cross nailed him clean in the centre of the ring. Even more impressive than that were the left crosses Itauma directed at the American’s midsection, each used to keep Franklin guessing and leave him unable to predict where Itauma’s attacks would be aimed. Before long, Franklin was being tagged to the body and then head by Itauma’s left cross, having defended high when he should have defended low, and vice versa.
The variety on display was something to behold. It would be impressive enough if a welterweight was piecing together the combinations Itauma was launching at Franklin last night, let alone a 6'4" heavyweight. In round three alone the Brit threw the following: a left cross-right hook combination to the head, a left cross to the head-right hook to the body, and a left cross to the body-right hook upstairs. Each combination was sharp, imaginative, and purposeful. These, make no mistake, were not taps, or merely an attempt to dazzle the ringside judges. They were instead punches thrown hard and designed only to hurt Franklin, weaken Franklin, and ultimately break Franklin’s resistance.
In the third round Itauma came close to doing just that when a right hook over the top caught Franklin high on the head and led to him collapsing in the corner. He did, though, manage to get to his feet with 15 seconds remaining in the round. Better yet, he let go with a right hand of his own on the bell just to remind Itauma that, despite the one-way traffic, there were still two professional heavyweights in the ring.
That may be true, but at no point were these two professional heavyweights ever operating either at the same speed or indeed on the same level. In fact, even when Franklin had brief moments of success, as he did in round four, Itauma would greet these moments with a wry smile, as though he were the 32-year-old heavyweight, and not Franklin. When, for example, Franklin poked Itauma’s stomach with a couple of right hands, there was a sense that Itauma appreciated the effort, if only because it made him have to tighten up and refocus. Lo and behold, it wasn’t long before the smiling southpaw then returned fire with a vicious left cross and backed Franklin into a corner.
Meanwhile, in his own corner between rounds, Franklin was soon expressing concern about Itauma’s speed. He was, it seemed, struggling to come up with ideas as to how he might be able to counteract it and his training team, granted the luxury of only watching, were no more confident or insightful.
Such is Itauma’s speed, his power, already considerable, is doubled on impact. You could see evidence of this whenever he surprised Franklin with that check right hook of his, or whenever he led with a left cross from out of nowhere. You also saw the raw power Itauma possesses in moments when he was a little more obvious with his shot selection and resorted to simply whacking Franklin with big left hands around the side of his guard. These shots, even if they landed on gloves, had a way of budging Franklin; something all the more shocking given Franklin’s reputation for durability. He felt the shots, clearly, and the only ones worse than the ones landing on his gloves and arms were the ones for which he had no time to prepare.
The left uppercut in round five, for instance, was a punch neither Franklin nor anyone else saw coming. All we, as observers, got to see was both its impact – devastating – and how Franklin’s eyes became crossed as the punch caught the very tip of his chin. Those eyes of his stayed crossed for as long as he remained upright, which was not very long, and not until he hit the canvas and regained his ability to see and think did Franklin himself understand what had just hit him. By then, it was too late. It was too late to prevent the referee Steve Gray from rescuing him and it was too late to turn back the clock even a few seconds.
Just like that, it had passed him by. He had been left behind. Suddenly, to Franklin, 32 had never felt so old. Suddenly, for all his courage, he realised the same thing so many other heavyweights in their 30s are starting to realise. He realised that when they say Moses Itauma is the future, they are referencing the damage he is doing in the present.
“I tried to knock him out in the first and second round to win some people some dough [money],” said Itauma, now 14-0 (12 KOs), after the fight. “But I thought, Maybe not today. So I went back to the basics – go down to the body – and then the knockout just came. It’s not the shots you load up with. It’s the shots you don’t see.”
With a shot a fighter cannot see, it is hard, almost impossible, for them to brace for impact, never mind choose the right defensive move to avoid it.
A similar thing could now be said of Moses Itauma and the difficulty future opponents will have figuring ways to simply take him rounds. The only difference, perhaps, is that this 21-year-old is no longer a surprise package or a future threat the current crop can for the time being put out of their mind. He is instead now the threat that everybody sees coming; the immediate threat. By stopping Jermaine Franklin the way he did, Itauma’s clock jumped forward last night. He is, for the heavyweight division, now a premature alarm: loud, jarring, obnoxious. It’s time to wake up.
