After waiting so long for him to say something, Artur Beterbiev suddenly said too much, reminding us all that the blessing and the curse of a man with few words is that his few words have great meaning.

With the victory, it seemed that the Russian lithe heavyweight’s guard had dropped, his inhibitions had fallen, and the cards he had kept close to his chest all week were now thrown on the table. “I didn’t do well today,” he said to start. “I wanted higher quality. I don’t know why. I didn’t like this fight. But one day I will feel better. He then added: “Of course, it was a tough fight. Dmitry is also a world champion. He has good skills, better than me, but today Allah chose me.

Selected or not, Beterbiev’s victory last night (October 12) in Riyad was finally decided by two judges at the ring who, after 12 rounds in the company of Dmitry Bivol, his colleague, voted in his favor (115-113, 116-112). Russian. (The third couldn’t separate them, scoring 114-114.)

These results were a product of what the judges witnessed Beterbiev’s in-ring exploits and aggression, but all three, despite their point of view, were unable to capture either the flow of the fight or the story Beterbiev’s body language was telling throughout. . If, for example, it was not clear why, between the sixth and seventh round, his corner told him, “You’re not tired, Arthur, no one can beat you,” it should have been perfectly obvious why his corner felt he had to beg him to go for the knockout in championship rounds. After all, up to that point Beterbiev had problems with impressing Bivol, which is why he didn’t like this fight and had to accept not only the possibility of covering such a distance for the first time as a professional fighter, but perhaps even losing. For 10 rounds he chased more than he hurt. It no longer looked like an venerable machine; almost human, actually. In round seven, after eating Bivol, the machine even smiled and nodded. It was a mistake, a sign of respect.

This continued after the fight, when Beterbiev was candid in a way pride wouldn’t usually allow. Because if it is true that he was disappointed with the fight and his performance, as stated, then one wonders how on earth Beterbiev could win a fight at such a high level and beat a man in Bivol who seemed to be boxing, the fight of his life. In this scenario, these two things don’t really go together. Either Beterbiev won because he was brilliant and even better than Bivol, or he lost because he couldn’t quite live up to his former high standards; high standards. Given what happened, it’s demanding to justify combining these two conflicting concepts and properly summarizing what happened last night. Personally, it’s equally tough to convince Beterbiev to win enough rounds to win this fight.

From the start, Bivol, now 23-1 (12), simply seemed more comfortable and settled. He moved wisely, struck with purpose and seemed to enjoy the relative peaceful of his surroundings, conducive to focusing on a game plan and then executing it. It was a crowd of boxers, more than a crowd of boxers, and in the eerie silence of the Kingdom Arena, Bivol was able to remain peaceful, composed, and focus only on the punches he had to land and those he had to avoid.

On the other hand, Beterbiev, that thrash metal lithe heavyweight, could probably employ a little more noise. A little more chaos. A little more passion. Without this, there was a risk of him being euthanized or simply left behind.

Indeed, although he was often reminded of Beterbiev’s tendency to start slowly, for so long it could only amount to an excuse and it was tough to give him much in the first three rounds. His first large shot, a right hand, landed in the final seconds of the first round during a rally, but by then he was largely outplayed by Bivol and frustrated by his movement. It was similar in the second round, even better for Bivol. In this round, Bivol moved one way, then the other, giving Beterbiev no chance to set up. He also tried to threaten with his right hand and throw often, not wanting Beterbiev to think he was afraid to employ it or relied solely on his jab. This, in turn, caused some hesitation for Beterbiev, a player used to throwing whenever and wherever whenever he wants.

In round three, Bivol’s lovely double set the tone, as he had in the previous two rounds, and his work seemed much more varied. He followed punches with punches, while Beterbiev simply followed them with the occasional right hand. He threw this shot upwards, trying to penetrate Bivol’s high guard, and also downwards into his body, which of the two was the more fruitful endeavor. However, whether thrown to the head or the body, it was always an isolated one and Beterbiev already needed more; more punches, more urgency.

In the next, fourth round, this feeling was solidified as Beterbiev became more busy and more determined to cut the ring. This period of success continued in the fifth set as well, when he brutally landed a shot straight to Bivol’s body and reacted to Bivol’s attempt to take the center of the ring by shoving him and bringing him back to where Beterbiev wanted him and where, in his eyes, he belonged.

Despite this, Bivol was not without success in the fifth race. For example, a counterattack, a cross to the right followed by a jab, crushed Beterbiev on entry and was the highlight of the round. Later, he also performed a similar trick, only this time he replaced the jab with a hook, and Beterbiev, as before, did not notice any punch.

Instead of cameos or eye-catching shots designed to deceive, these Bivola streaks were always punctuated rounds of success. In other words, it wasn’t an attempt to steal the round or deceive the judges, but rather an attempt to assert his dominance and demonstrate it with bursts of action that Beterbiev had yet to come up with. The best example of this might be the sixth round, where Bivol was made to work demanding by Beterbiev, but he still showed good defense and still gave up enough to outwork Beterbiev. “You’re not tired, Arthur,” he was then told in the corner before seven. “No one can beat you.”

This was followed by a respectful bow to Bivol’s right hand, and from that point on, it looked like Bivol was well on his way to creating something special. He even hurt Beterbiev with a left hook thrown slow in the combination, then allowed his emotions to get the better of him and perhaps fired too many follow-up shots in pursuit of an improbable finish. This, of course, gave Beterbiev a chance to find something of his own, which he inevitably did, causing Bivol to cover up as the round came to a close.

The next two rounds, eight and nine, were calmer, the eighth broke out only when it was almost over, and the ninth, another round in which Bivol managed his energy well and chose the moments to strike wisely. In truth, there wasn’t much separating them, but it was still tough to watch what was happening and not see Bivol as the one dictating the pace, the fluidity, and deciding when and what to throw.

If you could feel it by watching this situation, there is no doubt that Beterbiev, the only one who was able to change it, felt it too, which is why he was busier and more aggressive in round 10 and why his corner team was increasingly frantic in during and between rounds. However, even in the 10th round, which he had to win, Beterbiev’s aggression was met by Bivol’s clever counter-attacks, with one right and left corner being particularly critical in this round.

In fact, it was only from the 11th round that Bivol’s peaceful and composure betrayed him, and Beterbiev’s desperation became more of a weapon. By then Bivol, so long pure, was marked, visibly weakened. He tried to keep Beterbiev away and tried to catch him whenever he was injured. Meanwhile, his own punches became arm punches, and that change, a subtle shift in threat level, gave Beterbiev the luxury of moving in unopposed. Once in range, he now worked his body well and dealt with Bivol. He tried to condense the fight penalty into three minutes, perhaps worried that he had left it too slow.

However, Bivol survived. He then regrouped and did more than survive in the 12th round, Beterbiev attacked the next round like a man needing a knockout, and even found the odd avalanche that kept Beterbiev in check and didn’t give him complete freedom both in the ring and in his body. Every avalanche Bivol threw now was a reminder. It was a reminder of how it started, and a reminder that Beterbiev wasn’t able to do much about it. For once, his power couldn’t turn the tide of battle. For once, it wasn’t enough to end it.

“Did you feel like you were slowing him down with your power as the fight went on?” he was asked later in the ring.

“No,” said Beterbiev, now 21-0 (20). “Because I didn’t throw a single punch.”

“When the final bell rang, did you think you had done enough to win this fight?”

“Yes, but it’s inconvenient for me because I don’t usually wait for the (last) bell. But I’m lucky today too.

“Your corner told you before the 10th round, ‘You have to knock him out.’ Were you surprised to hear that?”

“They always say that,” Beterbiev laughed.

“Did that make you more aggressive in the last two rounds?”

“More focused, not aggressive.”

If it was true that the motivation for the corners made him more focused in the last two rounds, it could also be argued that the controversial victory made Artur Beterbiev more talkative, open and candid. Suddenly, after not saying anything for a whole week, now maybe he said a lot A lot. Or maybe what he said in the ring after the fight is subject to interpretation, just like the fight, and was, like the three judges’ scorecards, lost in translation.