The little classic battle between Kenshiro Teraji and Hiroto Kyoguchi comes at the right time for boxing

After weeks of frustration, boxing got the fight it needed (if not deserved) last Tuesday in Japan, writes Elliot Worsell

SOMETIMES, like experiencing the kindness of strangers when you feel your lowest, a fight that comes along that reminds you why you bothered to watch the sport of boxing in the first place. Usually it happens exactly when it’s needed and, if not completely restoring your faith in a sport too dishonest for you to trust again, it at least has a number of cleaning effects.

The latest example of this phenomenon was Tuesday’s lightweight match at Japan’s Saitama Super Arena between Kenshiro Teraji and Hiroto Kyoguchi, following a series of canceled matches, a drug scandal heightened. High performance and ego run wild, happened Just in the nick of time.

Not only important in terms of competition, the all-Japan match between Teraji, 20-1 (12) and Kyoguchi, 16-1 (11), then exceeded everyone’s expectations, creating both two one of the best rounds of the year (fifth) and one of the best finishes of the year (guaranteed by Teraji in seventh place). In fact, it was such a thrilling fight, and so tough, it seemed a shame that boxing, as a sport, was the one to benefit from it. As for boxing, it does absolutely nothing to deserve a match as good as Teraji vs. Kyoguchi this year. It also doesn’t deserve fighters like Teraji, who holds the WBC belt, and Kyoguchi, who holds the WBA belt, giving every bit – blood, sweat and tears – when they get so little in return.

However, this is the sport they – and we – have chosen and we have to accept the small victories when they come to us. Tuesday’s battle, make no mistake, was definitely one of them. It’s a small victory wrought by two diminutive boxers and one who hopes to live longer in memory than the mischief that has further blackened the sport in recent times.

Because, in terms of action, there is no better demonstration of the beauty of boxing than Teraji and Kyoguchi. Starting work from the first ring, it was Teraji who tackled Kyoguchi faster, shooting at the pot with his sharp right hands and counter-attacking him whenever he leaned forward from a crouching position. head. His style is the more relaxed and versatile of the two and he has used it to good effect, shifting head-to-body attacks and landing superbly with a special right hand on central defender.

Kyoguchi, meanwhile, the tighter boxer, both in terms of output and defense, had to take time in the first half, only to explode at the last minute when two right-hands caused his corner. ta.

As if in sync, both fighters then increased the tempo for the second round, delivering straight punches from the start. Of the two, Teraji’s punches will usually be faster, of course, what with his possession of faster arms and legs, but Kyoguchi still shows no signs of disappointment. As a physically fit puncher, he targeted Teraji’s body for the first time in the second round and also increased his overall work speed with a minute left to run in the round. However, that, while necessary, only created more openings for Teraji, who continued to stab Kyoguchi with his stab, time and time again.

In the third, Teraji traps and counterattacks well with his right cross and also lands a right top lane on Kyoguchi’s body. This then leads to a straight line upstairs and a series of shots, all of which begin to move Kyoguchi.

That said, it’s the stab that really separates them, with Teraji being more diverse and Kyoguchi often non-existent. This jab from Teraji will create space for the right cross to follow, as well as pave the way for a couple of left hooks in the fourth round that, once again, move Kyoguchi on landing.

He doesn’t appear to be injured at this stage, but Kyoguchi, when attacked, can do nothing more than wriggle, weave, and attempt to turn around with a punch of his own. Too slow to land too slow for what he threw, it wasn’t until 30 seconds into the fourth round that Kyoguchi finally made some sort of breakthrough. Doing so with his right hand, grabbing Teraji’s head backwards, he suddenly caused his buoyant opponent to retreat, a sight that gave Kyoguchi confidence.

Then came the fifth game and Kyoguchi, despite doing well in the final shots of the fourth round, his resistance to punches abandoned him after a stiff right hand from Teraji. It was the shot that put Kyoguchi on goal, less than a minute into half-time, and it was there he would smartly stand on his knees until satisfied with his head.

At that point, with only two minutes left in the round, it’s hard to tell how he’ll survive, especially with the way Teraji attacks him at the start over. Relentless, ferocious and merciless, Teraji lunged at his wounded opponent as if it were the last round, not the fifth, and such was the ferocity of the attack, his concern now. We can punch ourselves out.

This also seems to be a legitimate concern as, with 30 seconds left, a slash from Kyoguchi’s left and right hand stopped Teraji. A game-changing potential, two shots brought Kyoguchi back into the fray and he then dumped it on Teraji, continuing to deliver a massive left hook that forced Teraji to take a hit.

Suddenly, despite being in command a few seconds ago, Teraji appeared disorganized, confused, and possibly even injured. One thing is for sure, he must be very tired. By the way, so did Kyoguchi, who, just before the bell, ended up with his opponent and fell on the canvas beside him.

A fitting end to one of the best rounds of the year, if the fifth round was pure chaos, then the sixth round was a return to common sense (with both starting more stable) and a return to normalcy. back of Teraji’s stab. As an option, this eventually became an important one, as it established the right cross that Teraji shoved into Kyoguchi’s leg just 30 seconds into the seventh round and it also later helped create a tree. the correct cross he landed on Kyoguchi’s forehead later in the round, eventually fooling Kyoguchi’s senses, causing him to fall off the rope, and end the match (the referee didn’t even manage the score). ), which is the purest match.