Tyson Fury’s unanimous decision win over Arslanbek Makhmudov last night in London was a tax return of a heavyweight fight, something that needed to be checked off, but ideally should have been done in private.
For Fury, the one returning, all that really mattered was that he won and that he got some rounds under his belt having had 16 months away. In Makhmudov, we know now that he had the perfect opponent to achieve both these things. Better yet, he had an opponent whose gratitude was equal to his resilience; an opponent who, 10 years ago, was so much of a fan of Fury that he requested a picture with the former world heavyweight champion at an event.
Even if Fury had had the luxury of designing his own comeback opponent, he would have done no better than Makhmudov. His kind of guy, he was big, tough, basic, and obedient. He made Fury feel comfortable in the buildup, when sometimes nerves can creep in following an extended absence, and he made him feel just as comfortable in the ring on fight night, when the Russian’s rudimentary style and crude swings allowed Fury to quickly get into his groove and feel as though he had never been away.
This, you see, was a treat for Fury – a sparring session in all but name. That it took place in front of an apparently sold-out crowd of 50,000 said as much about the Fury brand as the quality of the fight, and the longer the fight went on, the more it became apparent that this was an exercise meant for the gym rather than a football stadium.
The only consolation, for the fans, came from the knowledge that this fight, Fury vs. Makhmudov, was being watched by Anthony Joshua, who filmed all 12 rounds on his phone from ringside. Joshua, of course, has long been linked with a fight against Fury – for the best part of a decade, in fact – and last night, before Fury had even stepped into the ring, the Saudi Arabian financier, Turki Alalshikh, was close to announcing Fury vs. Joshua during an interview with Netflix. He did, however, stop short of doing so, perhaps because the fight is not as close as he would like, or perhaps because he didn’t want to tempt fate with Fury yet to box. Either way, Joshua refused to enter the ring following Fury’s lopsided victory over Makhmudov and instead remained in his ringside seat as Fury took the mic and called him out.
“Like I said, let me get Arslanbek Makhmudov out of the way and then we’ll talk next. Next we’ll give you the fight you’ve all been waiting for,” said Fury, leaning over the ropes. “I want you, AJ, Anthony Joshua. Let’s give the fight fans what they want: The Battle of Britain. And here’s my challenge: I challenge you, Anthony Joshua, to fight me, the Gypsy King, next. Do you accept my challenge? Come on, you big shithouse. Are you going to fight or not?”
Seemingly, if Makhmudov was a fight for Fury, Joshua was one for us. All we needed now was for Joshua to demonstrate a similar level of desire and urgency to get the fight made.
“Tyson, you’re a clout-chaser,” he said to start. “I’ve never had a problem getting in the ring with you. I punched you up when we were kids and, after watching you here tonight, I’ll punch you up again.
“With all due respect, tonight is your night, and you know I’ll stand across that ring from you in due time. You’re not going to tell me what to do. I’ve been chasing you for the last 10 years. When you’re ready, you come and see me and tell me your terms and conditions, and I’ll have you in the ring when I’m ready. You work for me. I’m the landlord. Remember that.”
If Joshua is indeed the landlord, or simply Fury’s neighbor or nemesis, the prospect of Fury fighting him would be a logical next step after last night’s fight against a fan. Whereas against Makhmudov, the goal was to simply go rounds, shed rust, and reintroduce himself on the world stage, the stakes in any fight with Joshua would be considerably higher. Ergo, the interest in the fight, on the part of fans, would be considerably higher, too. It would not, unlike the Makhmudov fight, be a vanity exercise or something best done behind closed doors. Instead, despite it coming years too late, we would, with Fury vs. Joshua, see two men nervous, perhaps even fearful. It is usually then, in that scenario, we see the best in fighters. It is usually then we see a fight worth watching.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said about last night’s 12 rounds between Fury and Makhmudov. According to the three ringside judges, Makhmudov won only one of those 12 rounds – on one of the three judges’ scorecards – while each of the other 11 went to Fury. The round he won, presumably the first, he won by virtue of landing the single notable punch – an overhand right – and huffing and puffing a little louder than Fury for its duration. It was, given the lack of output from Fury, just about enough.
For the next 11 rounds, however, Makhmudov was reduced to solely huffing and puffing. He would, round after round, go in search of Fury, only to often fall over his own feet and end up in a clinch following a wild and typically wayward swing of his left or right glove. His problem, one of many, was that he would lead with his hands and then let his feet follow, which resulted in Makhmudov time and time again falling over his front foot and into some kind of embrace. It was crude stuff, truly, and coming so early in the fight not even fatigue could be used as an excuse. This was simply how Makhmudov operated. He was big, and he was tough, and he was willing. But he just lacked any sort of guile or technique.
Fury, by contrast, was the embodiment of those things after the opening round. He used his guile to make Makhmudov miss and sometimes tumble into the ropes, and he used his technique to line up and land scything uppercuts thrown from both an orthodox and southpaw stance. In round four, having taken a solid left from Makhmudov out of a clinch, Fury even started getting physical with his opponent, pushing him back and making him feel the ropes on his skin. In fact, with 30 seconds left to go in that round, it was Fury who was the aggressor, nailing Makhmudov with a right cross after turning him on the ropes.
Now Fury knew he had him under complete control. Depending on his mood, he could either outbox him or, if it came to that, even outfight him up close. Of those two options, Fury preferred the former, of course, if only because it was less of a risk, and so in round five he employed his jab a lot more – flicking it in the face of Makhmudov – and he continued to frustrate Makhmudov by being in range one moment and then someone else the next. Fed up of missing, Makhmudov at one stage dropped his hands and beckoned Fury in, whereupon Fury smiled and touched gloves. Now we had proof, if ever it was needed, of what kind of fight this was going to be. It would be more fun for them, the fighters, than it would for us, the audience.
The fight’s second half bore this out. Makhmudov had his moments, including a left hook-right hook combination in round seven, but it was mostly one-way traffic, with uppercuts a feature of Fury’s work. In round 10, he landed a peach of a right uppercut, which sent the gum shield flying from Makhmudov’s mouth. He then went to touch gloves with Makhmudov upon the restart – Makhmudov having had his gum shield reinserted – only to think better of it and instead fire a short right hand into the Russian’s face. That shot didn’t only buckle Makhmudov’s legs for the first time in the fight, but it offered the first indication that this was something more than just a friendly knockabout for these two heavyweights. Suddenly there was a sense, albeit brief, that Fury wouldn’t mind ending this fight inside the distance. Maybe the peacemaking had all been a ruse; a tactic to soften Makhmudov up.
But no, that wasn’t the case. In the final round, Fury, 35-2-1 (24 KOs), was as relaxed as he had ever been – boxing well, moving well, jabbing well – and Makhmudov, 21-3 (19 KOs), was just desperate to stay upright. A win, to him, was now hearing the final bell, and Fury, aware of this, wasn’t about to spoil his big day in London.
When it came, the final bell, they fell into each other’s arms, both grateful to have got exactly what they wanted from this exercise. Fury then kissed his beaten foe on the head to show his respect and his compassion. He did so at around the same time Anthony Joshua, his British rival, stopped recording on his phone and started to imagine, with his fists now clenched, the damage he might do to Fury in the future.
By the time the decision was announced, love had made way for hate and nobody, not a single soul, was about to complain. In fact, the switch in tone was encouraged. The fans in the stadium encouraged it and Fury himself encouraged it. It would seem he is ready now. He has had his fun.
