From the archive · July 30, 1995
Yasuei Yakushiji vs Wayne McCullough
WBC World Bantamweight Title · Aichi Prefectural Gym, Nagoya, Aichi, Japan
Record 24-2-1 · 118 lb
Record 16-0-0 · 117¾ lb

The fight
Wayne McCullough became the World Boxing Council bantamweight champion by defeating Yasuei Yakushiji on a split decision at the Aichi Prefectural Gymnasium in Nagoya on July 30, 1995. The Belfast challenger, unbeaten in 16 professional contests, carried the fight to the champion for 12 rounds and overcame both Yakushiji’s experience and the disadvantage of boxing in the Japanese holder’s home city. Barbara Perez scored the contest 118–110 and Tom Kaczmarek 116–113 for McCullough. Jae-Bong Kim returned a dissenting card of 116–115 for Yakushiji. The verdict gave McCullough the championship only two years and five months after his professional debut.
Yakushiji was making the fifth defence of the title he had won from Jung-Il Byun in December 1993. He had since defeated Byun more decisively in a return match, outpointed the popular Joichiro Tatsuyoshi in a major domestic contest and retained against Cuauhtemoc Gomez. Tall for a bantamweight, the 27-year-old champion possessed a stiff jab, respectable strength and a record of 24 victories, two defeats and one draw. McCullough, one year younger, had been an Olympic silver medallist in Barcelona and had moved to the United States to work under Eddie Futch and Thel Torrance. His professional advancement had been rapid. Victories over Javier Medina and former WBC champion Victor Rabanales had placed him among the leading contenders, and his management allowed the championship contest to proceed to purse bids rather than surrender the greater payment in exchange for home advantage. McCullough’s purse was reported to be more than $600,000.
The tactical preparation was evident from the opening round. Yakushiji’s jab was considered one of his principal weapons, but Torrance had observed that the champion held his chin high after extending the left and was slow to block an answering jab. McCullough therefore did not begin with reckless pressure. He stepped forward behind his own left hand and repeatedly struck Yakushiji before the champion could establish the range. McCullough later estimated that he was beating him to the jab by two or three punches to one in the opening round. Futch’s instruction between rounds was simple: the left hand was working and was to remain the foundation of the attack.
McCullough maintained the pace through the early rounds. He advanced with short steps, jabbed on the way in and continued punching once he had brought Yakushiji towards the ropes. The champion attempted to use his greater height and box from the outside, but he was not given sufficient time to settle. At close range McCullough worked with both hands, then resumed jabbing as soon as the fighters separated. Yakushiji landed the heavier single punches and directed useful blows to the body, but they did not reduce the challenger’s activity. The contest was not one-sided in every exchange, yet McCullough was determining where and at what speed it was fought.
Futch had also taught McCullough an old cross-arm defence, which the challenger used when Yakushiji tried to halt him with combinations. McCullough crossed his forearms, caught or deflected the straighter punches and returned immediately to the attack. It was not a defensive performance based upon retreat. Its purpose was to allow him to remain close without receiving the full force of the champion’s counters. Yakushiji was strong enough to stand his ground and occasionally forced McCullough backwards with body punches and right hands, but the Irishman recovered his position quickly and resumed the pressure. Much of the middle part of the contest was spent with Yakushiji near the ropes, trying to create room against a challenger who gave him little rest.
The pattern continued into the later rounds. McCullough’s work was not notable for individual punches so much as its persistence and organisation. His jab remained in Yakushiji’s face, his feet kept him close enough to follow it, and his combinations prevented the champion from answering at leisure. Yakushiji continued to look for a damaging counter and struck hard enough to command respect, particularly to the body. He was neither overwhelmed nor in danger of being stopped, but he was being outworked. The champion’s best periods came when he stood firm and met McCullough during the advance, yet those successes were too brief to change the general direction of the match.
Yakushiji fought with increasing urgency as the rounds passed. Knowing that the challenger’s greater output was accumulating points, he sought the knockout and committed himself more fully to his right hand and body attack. McCullough accepted that he would have to take punches to maintain his position. His face showed the effects of the contest, but his legs and pace remained sound. There were no knockdowns and no significant fouls. The last rounds were hard and competitive, with Yakushiji attempting to preserve his title through heavier blows while McCullough continued to jab, crowd and punch in combinations. The Japanese boxer finished with determination, but he had been required to follow McCullough’s rhythm for too much of the contest.
The reading of the scorecards introduced more uncertainty than the action appeared to warrant. Perez’s 118–110 card reflected McCullough’s sustained control, while Kaczmarek’s 116–113 also gave the challenger a clear advantage. Kim’s 116–115 vote for Yakushiji was difficult to reconcile with the champion’s long periods on the ropes and McCullough’s superior activity. The split verdict nevertheless went to the correct man. Contemporary accounts described McCullough’s victory as an upset, but not a fortunate one. He had travelled to Nagoya, taken away the champion’s jab and forced Yakushiji to fight at a pace and distance that favoured the challenger.
McCullough described it as the most complete performance of his career. He had won not merely through endurance, for which he was already known, but through an effective plan carried out without interruption. Yakushiji was a strong and capable champion who absorbed the pressure and continued trying to reverse the contest until the final bell. He never fought again, retiring with a record of 24 wins, three defeats and one draw. McCullough returned from Japan as the first Irish boxer to win a WBC world championship and later defended the title against Johnny Bredahl and Jose Luis Bueno. His victory in Nagoya remained the clearest demonstration of his jab, stamina and disciplined aggression at championship level.
The House on this fight
I remember watching this, knowing what a tough ask this was for the Irishman. McCullough had only 16 professional fights behind him when he went to Nagoya, but he was no ordinary novice. He had won Olympic silver in Barcelona and beaten former WBC world champion Victor Rabanales. He was being trained by Eddie Futch, who knew how to prepare a man for hostile territory. Yasuei Yakushiji was making his fifth WBC bantamweight title defence and had already beaten Jung-Il Byun twice and Joichiro Tatsuyoshi. He was the taller man, the home champion and expected to keep McCullough on the end of the jab.
McCullough took that jab away from him almost immediately. He got his own left hand working first, stepped in behind it and never allowed Yakushiji the breathing space to settle into his boxing. That was the clever part of the performance. People remember McCullough for his engine and toughness, but this was not simply a case of charging forward and throwing punches. He applied educated pressure, defended as he came inside and made the champion fight at an uncomfortable pace. Yakushiji landed some heavier single shots, particularly to the body, but he spent too much time reacting rather than controlling.
McCullough won by split decision, with cards of 118–110 and 116–113 in his favour, while one judge somehow had Yakushiji ahead 116–115. That card was poor. McCullough was the clear winner and the split verdict made the contest appear closer than it was. It remains one of the best away victories by a British or Irish fighter: disciplined, relentless and carried out without complaint or hesitation in the champion’s own city.