It became clear early on how much Brandon Figueroa controlled the game in midfield. Despite being 5-foot-10, Figueroa was the more effective close-quarters player against the 5-foot-2 Ball, leaning on him, striking with volume and forcing turnovers that Ball couldn’t leisurely down or reset. The height difference gave Ball no room to work. This allowed Figueroa to crowd him and apply pressure in areas where Ball usually does best.
Cumulative penalty
As the rounds passed, the pattern continued to take its toll. Figueroa’s high-performance style became constant attrition, much like the approach he used against Joet Gonzalez when he landed over 1,000 punches. He didn’t need that level of volume here. He threw and landed enough to continually wear Ball down in subsequent rounds, making the finish feel like the end point of the process rather than an emergency.
The severity of the punishment became inevitable in the final sequence. After the first knockdown, Ball fell face first to the canvas and remained there for several moments, still enough to cause immediate concern. When the action resumed, there was no way to regain control
Figueroa stepped in and attacked the badly injured Ball, who offered no counterattacks and little defense, before taking him down again, partially through the ropes. What stood out was not the violence of the sequence, but the lack of resistance. The instincts that always led Ball to exchange words were no longer perceptible.
The hitting statistics confirm why this problem exists. Ball landed 249 of 567 punches for a 43.9% success rate, showing he remained precise and committed. Figueroa landed 214 of 757 punches, good for just 28.3% accuracy, but the volume continued unabated. He was willing to absorb shots to keep shooting, trusting the pressure and repetition to wear down Ball over time. Over the course of twelve rounds, this approach took its toll.
Ball lost the WBA featherweight title in the 12th round at the M&S Bank Arena, after which Figueroa’s trainer Manny Robles criticized the officiating, saying the referee “counted to 100” and called it a terrible job. The frustration sounded less like a tactical complaint and more like disbelief at how many penalties had been handed out before the fight was stopped.
This reaction highlights a larger problem. Fighters can recover from knockouts. It’s harder to recover from such long-lasting, close-range punishment that robs you of reaction, resistance, and agency before the end comes. Ball’s success has always been about pressure, persistence and tenacity.
After a night like that, the question isn’t whether he can win another fight, but whether those traits can still function in the same way, or whether the cost of taking so much damage has permanently changed the fighter he can be.
Olly Campbell is a boxing journalist covering this sport since 2014, providing reports from the ring and technical analyzes of the most essential fights. His work focuses on fighter tendencies, tactical adjustments and the details that shape high-level competition.