‘Gypsy King’ is beyond dispute greatest of era
The image of him standing over Wilder could yet define the chaos that he has unleashed
As one last overhand right brought Deontay Wilder down like a falling statue, Tyson Fury joked that he was, to adapt an old John Wayne quote, made of pig iron and steel. After 11 rounds that reinforced his status as the one-man wrecking ball of his division, he had earned the right to bombast. While he was not even born to see the “Thrilla in Manila”, this inimitably brilliant fighter produced a generational trilogy bout of his own, underscoring his credentials beyond dispute as the greatest heavyweight of his era.
Fury showcased every facet of his confounding genius to cement his place in folklore. Even when he was knocked down twice in a bewildering fourth round, he showed the mental agility to reset and readjust, ultimately reducing Wilder to a quivering wreck.
It was a pity that Wilder could not summon the grace to congratulate Fury from his chair. Then again, he was clearly not thinking straight after such pulverising treatment. Fury landed more than twice as many punches as his opponent, 148 to 72. Little wonder that Wilder was checked twice by the doctor as this pummelling wore on, or that he was later sent to a Las Vegas hospital for tests.
The “Gypsy King”, normally inclined to play up to a comic rascal caricature, looked genuinely emotional at what he had achieved. This was not some impostor he had dispatched for a second time, or some trumped-up challenger with delusions of grandeur. Wilder was the most daunting adversary any heavyweight could face, having registered 41 of his 42 victories by knockout. And yet Fury, during the span of a great trilogy lasting almost three years, has not so much damaged Wilder’s reputation as dismantled it.
It seems absurd to recall how this third instalment was regarded a few months ago as an inconvenient encore, designed to satisfy a man who could not accept that he had been fairly beaten. When an arbitrator found in favour of Wilder’s insistence on another rematch, it was depicted as a needless roadblock en route to the only fight any purist wanted to see, an all-british showdown between Fury and Anthony Joshua. Seldom has that contest looked so uneven. The manner of Joshua’s defeat last month by Oleksandr Usyk, coupled with Fury’s devilish ringcraft in quelling Wilder for good, should help form a picture of two boxers on opposite trajectories. At this rate, Fury’s prediction that he would finish his compatriot off within three rounds seems anything but fanciful.
For years, Joshua has revelled in his billing as the heavyweight whose fights stop the nation, but it is Fury who has compiled the more impressive body of work. While the high-water mark of Joshua’s career came when he stopped a 41-year-old Wladimir Klitschko, Fury has consigned the division’s most devastating one-punch knockout merchant to oblivion. Plus, he has managed it all without home advantage, winning each of his past four fights in Las Vegas. By the time he had demolished Wilder once more, he had converted the locals to his cause, treating them to a surprisingly tuneful take on Walking in Memphis. It formed quite the contrast to Joshua’s one fight on US soil, which ended in a humiliating loss to Andy Ruiz Jnr.
Fury can dictate his own terms now. While the confrontation with Joshua might still be made, if only for financial reasons, his rivalry with Wilder has established a standard almost impossible to surpass. True, Fury emerged from act three as demonstrably the superior fighter, but Wilder’s capacity to keep springing surprises contributed to an unforgettable spectacle. In the third round, he looked more grievously hurt than at any stage of his humbling 20 months earlier, but still he rallied to topple Fury twice. In the 10th, he was left sprawled on the canvas again, before launching an uppercut out of nowhere in the closing seconds.
Guided by his coach Sugarhill Steward’s desperate appeals for him to trust his jab, Fury rounded off his task with a flourish. The image of him standing over Wilder’s body as it hit the floor could yet define the wondrous chaos that he has unleashed. Consider, too, the backdrop against which it came: the mental health torment, the postponement of this fight when he tested positive for Covid-19, the three days that his baby daughter Athena spent in intensive care. That Fury still conjured this masterpiece
offered a reflection of his unfathomable volatility.
He is a sporting singularity whose pomp should be
savoured while it lasts.