Eight Rounds of Brilliance, One Round of Exhaustion: Itauma Chased History, Hrgović Chased Survival — Until Experience Turned Survival Into Triumph
I did not see this coming.
BY PAUL LUCKY OKOKU
Neither, apparently, did much of the boxing world.
Moses Itauma entered London’s O2 Arena undefeated, carrying Nigerian blood, extraordinary expectations and comparisons with Mike Tyson. He was attempting to become the second-youngest heavyweight world champion in history.
For eight rounds, it looked as though we were watching history.
Then heavyweight boxing reminded everybody why fights are scheduled for 12 rounds.
Filip Hrgović didn’t just survive Moses Itauma. He waited for him.
And in Round 9, the Croatian completed one of the most astonishing heavyweight reversals in recent memory, stopping an exhausted Itauma to capture the vacant IBF heavyweight championship.
ROUND BY ROUND: HOW THE UNTHINKABLE HAPPENED
From the opening bell, Itauma looked faster.
His southpaw stance, hand speed and combinations created problems immediately. A right hook rocked Hrgović in the opening round.
Round 2 appeared to confirm everybody’s expectations.
Another hook forced Hrgović to touch the canvas with his glove. It was a knockdown.
Here comes the knockout, many of us probably thought.
It never came.
Rounds 3 and 4 belonged to Itauma’s speed, movement and accuracy. Hrgović was being beaten, but something important was happening beneath the scoreboard:
He wasn’t breaking.
Round 5 may have provided the biggest clue.
Itauma detonated a beautiful left uppercut directly onto Hrgović’s chin.
Hrgović absorbed it.
In Round 6, Itauma again unloaded powerful combinations. Again, the Croatian remained there.
By Rounds 7 and 8, Itauma was still winning — but the fight itself was changing.
His punches had cost energy.
His movement had cost energy.
Trying to remove an opponent who simply refused to disappear had cost energy.
Hrgović had lost rounds.
But he had preserved himself.
THEN CAME ROUND NINE
Suddenly, the 21-year-old’s legs were no longer responding as they had earlier.
The hands slowed.
The movement deteriorated.
Hrgović recognized it immediately.
This was no longer the younger, faster heavyweight dictating distance.
Now the experienced Croatian stepped forward.
He forced Itauma toward the ropes and unloaded.
Itauma tried to respond, but his body was betraying him.
As we say in Nigeria, “picture no dey lie.” Itauma’s exhaustion is written all over him here — a visual reminder of just how deeply Hrgović had taken him into unfamiliar territory.
At 2:27 of Round 9, referee Howard Foster stopped it as trainer Ben Davison’s towel also came flying into the ring.
Filip Hrgović was heavyweight champion of the world.
Moses Itauma had lost for the first time as a professional.
HE WAS WINNING THE FIGHT
This is important.
Itauma was not exposed as an inferior boxer.
Quite the opposite.
He was outboxing Hrgović.
Hrgović himself admitted afterward:
“I was losing every round. I was outboxed.”
Had the fight continued in the same pattern through 12 rounds, Itauma appeared headed toward a convincing decision victory.
But boxing isn’t played on an eight-round scoreboard when the championship fight requires 12.
You have to finish the examination.
A BELT THERE FOR THE TAKING
There was another dimension to this fight that made the outcome even more significant.
Neither man entered the ring as champion.
Oleksandr Usyk had vacated the IBF heavyweight championship, leaving Itauma and Hrgović with the same opportunity: win the fight and leave London as world champion.
There was no champion to dethrone.
No man owned the belt.
It was there for the taking.
For Itauma, victory would have completed an extraordinary rise to heavyweight champion at only 21.
For Hrgović, 34, it represented the defining opportunity of a career built on experience, resilience and years spent waiting for another chance at the summit.
For eight rounds, Itauma appeared closer to that belt.
In the ninth, Hrgović took it.
FROM A MIDFIELDER’S EYE
This is where football and boxing meet for me.
A midfielder can dominate possession for 70 minutes.
Your team can control territory, create chances and dictate tempo.
But if fatigue arrives, concentration disappears and the opponent survives long enough to exploit one opening, the previous 70 minutes cannot rescue you.
Itauma controlled this fight.
But Hrgović managed the contest.
There is a difference.
Hrgović understood something the younger fighter had never professionally experienced.
Deep water.
Before Saturday night, Itauma had never gone beyond six rounds as a professional.
Hrgović took him somewhere his talent had never been required to go.
Rounds seven.
Eight.
Nine.
And suddenly the question was no longer speed or power.
It was conditioning, pacing, recovery and experience.
That was Hrgović’s territory.
HRGOVIĆ WARNED US
Perhaps we should have listened more carefully.
Before the fight, Hrgović questioned whether Itauma had truly been tested. He talked about experience. He knew Itauma was dangerous early, but believed the later rounds could belong to him.
He came into London as a massive underdog.
But the Croatian did not come to participate in the coronation of the next Mike Tyson.
He came to ruin it.
And he did.
THIS IS NOT THE END OF MOSES ITAUMA
For Nigerians disappointed this morning, I understand.
I am disappointed too.
But Moses Itauma is 21 years old.
The Mike Tyson comparisons may have accelerated expectations faster than his professional experience.
Saturday night exposed something — but perhaps not what people think.
It did not prove that Itauma cannot become heavyweight champion.
It proved that extraordinary talent still has lessons to learn.
There is also a Nigerian heavyweight reminder close to home.
Anthony Joshua’s career has already shown that heavyweight boxing is rarely a straight line. He has been champion, suffered defeats, rebuilt, returned and remained relevant at the highest level.
That does not mean Moses Itauma will follow Joshua’s exact path.
But it does demonstrate something important:
A heavyweight career can survive disappointment.
For a 21-year-old Itauma, this loss may eventually become part of the education rather than the definition of his career.
How do you pace yourself over 12 rounds?
What happens when your knockout punch doesn’t knock somebody out?
What happens when the opponent absorbs your best combination and walks back toward you?
What happens when your legs become heavy and there are still rounds remaining?
Those questions cannot always be answered in training.
Sometimes boxing charges you a loss for the education.
Filip Hrgović paid for his own education over years.
On Saturday night, Moses Itauma began paying for his.
He will hurt.
He will learn.
And I believe he will return.
Because champions aren’t defined only by what happens when everybody expects them to win.
Sometimes we discover the future champion only after the night nobody expected him to lose.
Paul Lucky Okoku
FIFA Legend | Former Nigeria Flying Eagles Vice-Captain | Former Super Eagles International | AFCON Silver Medalist | Football Historian | Football Analyst | Journalist-at-Large | Founder & CEO, Greater Tomorrow Children’s Foundation (GTCF)