Bernard Hopkins vs Ronald Wright

Bernard Hopkins retained The Ring light-heavyweight championship with a unanimous twelve-round decision over Ronald “Winky” Wright at the Mandalay Bay Events Center in Las Vegas on July 21, 2007. Hopkins, aged 42 and returning after thirteen months away from the ring, received scores of 117–111 from judges Dave Moretti and Glenn Trowbridge and 116–112 from Glen Hamada. Wright’s first defeat for more than seven years came after a difficult contest in which Hopkins disrupted his jab, worked persistently to the body and repeatedly prevented the southpaw from settling into his customary rhythm. An announced crowd of 8,826 watched the catchweight match, which was contested at 170 lb, five pounds below the normal light-heavyweight limit. Both men weighed exactly 170 lb. Robert Byrd was the referee.

The meeting brought together two experienced champions whose reputations had been built upon control rather than reckless attack. Hopkins had won the recognised light-heavyweight championship from Antonio Tarver in June 2006 and then announced that he was retiring. Wright had previously held the principal light-middleweight titles and had defeated Shane Mosley twice before moving to middleweight, where he outpointed Félix Trinidad and drew with Jermain Taylor. He had never previously boxed above 160 lb. The difference in natural size was therefore considerable, although Wright’s tight guard, firm jab and physical strength had allowed him to deal successfully with men larger than himself. Hopkins entered with a record of 47 wins, four defeats, one draw and one no-contest; Wright stood at 51 wins, three defeats and one draw. Their disclosed purses were $3 million and $2 million respectively.

The ill feeling surrounding the contest had been sharpened at the official weigh-in, when Hopkins shoved Wright in the face and started a disturbance involving both entourages. The Nevada State Athletic Commission initially withheld ten per cent of Hopkins’s purse and later fined him $200,000. Once the bout began, however, Hopkins worked with greater restraint than his conduct at the weigh-in had suggested. Wright advanced behind his right jab in the opening round, holding both gloves high and trying to place Hopkins at the end of his straight punches. Hopkins moved laterally, gave ground in short steps and waited for Wright to commit himself before answering with the right hand or closing the distance. The first round was close, with Wright’s jab providing the more visible work but Hopkins already showing that he intended to prevent any sustained exchange.

The principal incident occurred early in the fight when the men’s heads came together, and a deep cut was opened beside Wright’s left eye. Contemporary reports differed over whether the clash occurred in the second or third round, but it was ruled accidental, and Hopkins was not penalised. The wound bled freely and required constant attention from Wright’s corner between rounds. It did not stop him from advancing, but it interfered with his vision and gave Hopkins an obvious target for the right hand. Byrd warned Hopkins repeatedly about leading with his head, rubbing in the clinches and holding, although no point was deducted. The exchanges became untidy, with Hopkins stepping forward behind single punches, placing his forehead close to Wright’s face and tying up immediately after delivering. Wright complained about the rough work, but he was unable to create the distance needed to make his jab decisive.

Through the middle rounds, Wright continued to supply most of the forward movement. He pressed behind the high guard and attempted to drive Hopkins towards the ropes, but his attacks were generally straight and predictable. Hopkins gave him few clear targets. He bent at the waist, rolled his shoulders, slipped to either side and countered before clinching or moving away. When Wright blocked the first punch, Hopkins frequently lowered his attack to the ribs and stomach. Those body blows were not always conspicuous, but their effect became more apparent as the contest progressed. Wright’s jab, ordinarily the punch around which all his work was organised, connected only 87 times from 290 attempts. He was able to touch Hopkins with it, particularly when the older man paused near the ropes, but he seldom followed with a clean left hand. Hopkins’s movement and changes of angle meant that Wright was continually required to reset his feet.

There was little sustained flow because the fighters came together so frequently. CompuBox recorded 132 clinches over the twelve rounds, an unusually high total even for a Hopkins contest. Wright occasionally succeeded when he doubled the jab and continued punching as Hopkins withdrew, but he too often allowed the champion to determine when an exchange ended. Hopkins would land a right hand or a short combination, fall inside and hold until Byrd separated them. In the seventh and eighth rounds, Wright remained competitive through persistence, yet his punches had begun to lose speed. His mouth was open during the later stages, and his movement became heavier as the extra weight and Hopkins’s body attack took effect. Hopkins, by contrast, remained economical and seldom exerted himself without purpose. He was not throwing in great volume, but the clearer and more forceful punches increasingly belonged to him.

By the ninth round, Byrd had become sufficiently dissatisfied with the holding to threaten Hopkins with a deduction. The warning produced no substantial change in the champion’s method. Hopkins continued to meet Wright’s advance with short rights, left hooks to the body and abrupt lateral movement. Wright tried to increase his work-rate, but his jab was no longer controlling the distance, and the high guard left his body available whenever Hopkins stepped inside. The challenger remained durable and was never in danger of being stopped, although the contest was moving beyond his reach. Hopkins’s tactics were unattractive in places, but they were carefully chosen. He denied Wright the steady pace upon which he depended, forced him to carry the additional weight through repeated clinches and made him lead before countering from angles the southpaw found difficult to cover.

Hopkins finished strongly in the eleventh and twelfth rounds. Wright still came forward, but the champion appeared the fresher man and landed the cleaner combinations. Hopkins struck to the body, brought the right over Wright’s jab and moved before the reply. In the final round he did not merely protect his lead. He continued to counter, worked in close and made Wright miss often enough to leave little doubt about the likely verdict. There were no knockdowns. Wright completed the contest with the cut still open and his face marked by Hopkins’s right hands, while Hopkins appeared comparatively untroubled by the pace. The final bell brought no immediate celebration from Wright, who believed Hopkins’s holding and use of the head had been excessive, but the three official judges were in agreement.

Moretti and Trowbridge each gave Hopkins nine rounds, returning scores of 117–111, while Hamada scored eight rounds to four at 116–112. Other observers regarded the contest as closer. HBO’s unofficial judge Harold Lederman scored it 114–114, and the Associated Press had Hopkins ahead by 115–113. The official margins therefore overstated the difference in some of the early and middle rounds, but the decision itself was sound. Wright had advanced and remained competitive, yet Hopkins landed the more effective blows and controlled the character of the match. He prevented the challenger’s jab from becoming a governing weapon, slowed him with body punches and finished with greater strength.

The victory took Hopkins’s record to 48–4–1 with one no-contest and ended Wright’s thirteen-fight unbeaten sequence, which had lasted approximately seven and a half years. It was Hopkins’s first defence of The Ring light-heavyweight championship, although the agreed catchweight meant that neither man approached the division’s 175lb limit. The event reportedly produced between 300,000 and 330,000 pay-per-view purchases. Its commercial success rested upon the standing of two veteran champions, but the contest itself was decided by Hopkins’s ability to impose an awkward, physical and highly controlled form of boxing upon an opponent accustomed to controlling others. At 42, he had beaten a younger elite fighter not through superior activity, but by denying him the conditions in which he usually prospered.

Bernard Hopkins against Winky Wright looked like a purist’s fight on paper, but in the ring it was awkward, rough and difficult to score cleanly. Wright had built his reputation by marching forward behind that tight guard and long southpaw jab, beating Shane Mosley twice and making Félix Trinidad look ordinary. Hopkins, meanwhile, had just jumped to light-heavyweight and dismantled Antonio Tarver at 41. By July 2007, both men were established masters, but Wright was coming up to a 170lb catchweight, and that mattered.

The cut beside Wright’s left eye, opened by a clash of heads early on, certainly did him no favours. Hopkins then made the contest ugly in exactly the way he wanted. He stepped inside the jab, worked the body, leaned on Wright and tied him up before Winky could build combinations. There were far too many clinches, and Hopkins was lucky not to lose a point for some of the holding and use of the head. But Wright also has to take responsibility. He followed Hopkins around rather than cutting the ring off, and his famous jab never took control.

The cards of 117–111 twice and 116–112 were wider than I had it, but Hopkins deserved the decision. He landed the cleaner shots, finished stronger and made a younger elite fighter operate on his terms. It was not pretty, but it was clever, physical championship boxing from a 42-year-old who understood every trick in the book.