An ode to Loma
We all unabashedly have our favourites who for one reason or another simply resonate with us and for me the swashbuckling pugilist-stylist that is Vasyl Lomachenko is one of mine.
I was immediately captivated by the man who had built up this astonishing record of 396-1, and winning every major honour in the amateur code before setting his sights on world domination as a professional.
I watched with curiosity as he took on the grizzled and shamelessly overweight Orlando Salido in just his second professional fight, falling agonizingly short despite coming on strong against the wily Mexican.
This early setback did little to dent the impregnable confidence of the assured Lomachenko, in the same manner that his opponents thereafter struggled to dent the defences of the Ukrainian master as they were dominated by his uniquely cerebral set of skills.
The elegance of his movement as he feints, parries, and pivots into range before launching into furious flurries of punches from all angles, whilst evading the panicked retaliations from his shellshocked opponents was breathtaking.
There was a time when ‘The Matrix’ would demoralise his stricken foes to the extent that they wished for a blue pill to swallow and erase any memory of such an ignominious public humbling. The likes of Nicholas Walters, Jason Sosa, Miguel Mariaga and Guillermo Rigondeaux were all bewildered by Lomachenko as he forced them to submit in between rounds, whimsically earning him the moniker ‘No-mas-chenko’.
It is apt that a canvas is stapled to the ring as in his pomp Lomachenko used it like an artist as he created masterpieces from the splattered blood, sweat and tears of his challengers across it and perfectly demonstrating boxings paradoxical features of beauty and brutality.
Now at the age of 35 the decline is visible and the effectiveness of his otherworldly talent is lessened against the larger adversaries at lightweight.
A muted display against the brash Teofimo Lopez resulted in his first defeat since that painful night against Salido, and despite bounce back wins against solid opposition, he hasn’t quite looked like the same formidable force that terrorized the featherweight and super-featherweight divisions.
It is why I fear that not only will Devin ‘The Dream’ Haney win this weekend, but he could dish out the type of pasting to Lomachenko that the Ukrainian has so coldly served to others in the type of poetic and karmic manner that many of the greats of the past have suffered. It could be the sort of fight that I mentally file as “Will Never Watch Again” along with other trouncing’s that make me wince at the mere thought of them such as Ali-Berbick or Tyson-McBride.
Then there is the one thing that every romantic boxing fan retains – a small glimmer of hope. And why not? Boxing, after all, is a sport that can justify hope as taking one glance at its history will show you miracles from legendary fighters that defied logic and made sensational statements in the ring akin to declaring the famous phrase that reports of their demise have been greatly exaggerated. These fights are filed as “I Can’t Bloody Believe It,” which deserve repeated viewing time and time again.
The intrigue of potentially witnessing an improbable but not impossible classic performance from the three weight world champion will outweigh the greater possibility and risk of watching the irrepressible Haney dismantle him.
However, it is the unlikely victories that solidify the legacies of fighters when rolling back the years whilst providing momentous feelings of disbelief and joy to fans, and hopefully that can be experienced this Saturday night if Vasyl Lomachenko can fulfil his career ambition to finally become the undisputed lightweight champion of the world.
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