Johnny Tapia vs Sammy Stewart

A 19-year-old Floyd Mayweather Jr began his professional career on the undercard, but the established attraction at Texas Station was an unbeaten champion making his eighth defence in little more than two years. Johnny Tapia retained the WBO super-flyweight title by stopping Sammy Stewart after 1 minute 44 seconds of the seventh round on 11 October 1996. The victory advanced Tapia’s record to 38 wins and two draws, with no defeats.

Tapia had won the vacant WBO championship from Henry Martínez in Albuquerque in October 1994 and maintained an active schedule thereafter. His defences included victories over José Rafael Sosa, Arthur Johnson, Willy Salazar, Giovanni Andrade, Ivan Alvarez and future world champion Hugo Rafael Soto. Stewart, a Liberian who had boxed at the 1988 Olympic Games, entered with a professional record of 14 wins, five defeats and two draws. He was experienced enough to provide resistance, but his recent form had been uneven, and he was not considered the equal of the champion.

The opening rounds were fought at a brisk pace. Tapia worked behind a quick jab, stepping in with combinations and then changing his position before Stewart could answer effectively. Stewart kept a compact guard and tried to meet the champion as he came forward, but Tapia’s greater hand speed allowed him to score first and finish most exchanges. The champion did not rely upon a single heavy blow. He accumulated punches in groups, moving from head to body and forcing Stewart to defend for longer periods than he was able to attack.

Stewart remained competitive through the early part of the contest and was willing to trade when Tapia stood close. He lacked Tapia’s speed, however, and his replies generally came after the champion had completed his own work. Tapia sometimes stayed within range unnecessarily, giving Stewart occasional opportunities, but he was rarely struck cleanly enough to lose command. His footwork allowed him to move around the challenger rather than withdraw in a straight line, and he repeatedly resumed the attack from a new angle.

By the middle rounds, the pace was taking its effect on Stewart. Tapia increased the frequency of his combinations and began driving the challenger backwards. The jab brought Stewart’s gloves upwards, leaving openings for hooks to the body, while straight rights and left hooks reached the head when Stewart tried to answer. There were no recorded knockdowns, but the challenger’s resistance was being reduced by the steady number of clean punches.

The finish came midway through the seventh. Tapia hurt Stewart and followed him with a sustained attack, landing repeatedly as the challenger attempted to cover himself. Stewart remained on his feet but could no longer return punches with enough force or frequency to halt the advance. The referee intervened at 1 minute 44 seconds, awarding Tapia a technical knockout. Stewart protested little, and the stoppage spared him further punishment in a contest which had moved beyond his control.

The performance was representative of Tapia’s championship form at super-flyweight. He combined speed and movement with a willingness to exchange, sometimes taking greater risks than were necessary but usually overwhelming opponents through work-rate and accuracy. Stewart was durable and experienced, yet he could not match the champion’s pace for twelve rounds. Tapia would box once more before the end of 1996, defeating Adonis Cruz on points, before moving towards the increasingly prominent rivalry with IBF champion Danny Romero. Against Stewart, he completed another successful defence with the authority expected of a champion approaching the peak of his powers.

Johnny Tapia was in full flow by the time Sammy Stewart challenged him. He had rebuilt his career after the enforced lay-off, won the WBO super-flyweight title and developed into one of America’s most watchable little men. The Albuquerque crowd loved him because he boxed with emotion, but underneath all that movement and showmanship was an educated fighter.

Stewart was game and experienced enough to make Tapia work, but he was never in the champion’s class. Tapia controlled the distance, changed angles after punching and put his combinations together far more quickly. What separated him from ordinary busy fighters was accuracy. He didn't merely throw four or five shots; he altered the target and caught opponents as they tried to reset. Stewart gradually found himself reacting rather than competing.

The stoppage at 1:44 of the seventh round was fair. Stewart had been worn down by speed, pressure and accumulation, not rescued from one lucky punch. For me, this was Tapia doing what a champion should do against a respectable but limited challenger. He broke him up systematically and got him out of there. The bigger examination was already waiting in Danny Romero, but Stewart was another solid defence during Tapia’s rise towards that defining fight.