By Elliot Worsell

ALTHOUGH it would be a stretch to call light-heavyweight champion Artur Beterbiev a jovial fellow, or even a man with a sense of humour, there can be no denying that he is having fun, both in the ring punching and whenever asked for his opinion.

When, for example, he called himself “slow” as a result of something Anthony Yarde said before fighting him, he did so with a glint in his eye and his tongue in his cheek. Similarly, when, following a brutal seventh-round stoppage of Callum Smith on Saturday (January 13), he called himself “lucky”, there was a sense he was playing with his audience, touching on both the ease with which he wins fights these days – now 20 in a row, all by stoppage – and the talk and accusations he had heard during fight week.

Indeed, if last week Beterbiev wasn’t being dragged into a non-starter of a performance-enhancing drug story, he was having to hear talk of Smith, his opponent, being not only younger than him but bigger and stronger and more deadly with one punch. Though a man mature enough to deal with all this, there was still a sense in his performance against Smith, as well as in his post-fight interview, that Beterbiev had in recent days been irked by something or someone. “You know it’s because of luck,” he said when asked why no opponent has been able to go the distance with him. “It’s my coach working hard with me, maybe that’s why too. But I think it’s because of luck.”

If in the end all the talk beforehand did was motivate him to prove a point and be even more merciless than usual, consider it worthwhile; consider it, too, a warning to future opponents.

Because there can be no doubt Beterbiev was keen to get things over and done with quickly in Quebec City. A slow starter usually, there was little sign of this against Smith, with the champion out the blocks fast and eager to make a dent in the challenger, perhaps with a view to deterring him and stealing any ambition he had going in. Chances are, he would have seen Smith shrink beneath the pressure and expectancy of a previous big fight – namely, against Saul “Canelo” Alvarez in 2022 – and sought to put him on the back foot and have him questioning himself from the off.

If the case, it was a good tactic, too, for Beterbiev, the WBC, IBF and WBO belt-holder at light-heavyweight, immediately had Smith retreating and therefore surrendering both his height and reach. Soon, in fact, Smith was fighting small – never a good thing against a swarmer like Beterbiev – and was struggling to generate leverage for his shots, whether thrown up close or at mid-range. There, at mid-range, it was all Beterbiev, his punches shorter and crisper and seemingly heavier. His jab, a standout, was a constant menace for Smith and would time and time again penetrate with surprising speed when he least expected it, while his combinations, although basic in execution, were wonderfully effective throughout.

Often, Smith would load up counterpunches of his own, particularly the left hook, but they would appear to have no real impact on Beterbiev. Sometimes, too, it appeared as though Beterbiev’s arms were made of metal, meaning every shot was hard even when the throwing of it looked effortless, whereas Smith’s, in contrast, seemed hollow, any power reduced significantly by the desperation to make them count.

Artur Beterbiev nails Callum Smith with a jab (Getty Images)

That, it could be argued, was the key difference here. Moreover, there is a feeling with Beterbiev now that his composure and aura in the ring is as much of an issue for opponents as what he lands. To share a ring with him, after all, is to become the perceived next knockout victim and there is always an eery inevitability about Beterbiev fights these days, which surely only adds to the suffocation an opponent experiences. With Smith, for instance, an already small ring was soon made even smaller by virtue of both Beterbiev’s ability to cut it off, as well as Smith’s own fears and anxiety.

Without any sort of success, it became hard for Smith to find any light, much less room to breathe. In fact, only an excellent uppercut in round four, in addition to occasional left hooks to the body, could be considered successes as far as Smith was concerned. The rest of it was all Beterbiev. The jabs, the right hands, the nonstop combination punching.

By the fourth, Smith was red around the face, with swelling above both eyes, and he was also developing an unwelcome habit of lingering on the ropes. There, of course, he would find Beterbiev invigorated by the sight, pumping his arms out, one after the other, determined to catch the Briton with something, knowing even something, such is his power and strength, would deplete him. He was right as well. There would always be one shot, whether a left or a right, which would stagger Smith during a combination, or simply have him think twice about returning fire, and it was at that point Beterbiev, rather than stand off and admire his work, would cruelly do more of it; increasing both the tempo and urgency.

There is, with Beterbiev, an unusual punching rhythm, too, which most opponents struggle to comprehend when in the heat of battle with him. No fan of the simple one-two, the Russian will resist the one-punch finish, of which someone like Callum Smith is now a master, to focus instead on the cumulative effect of his punches. This means that while some opponents will believe that loading up and hoping to strike lucky with one Hail Mary shot is the way to beat Beterbiev, Beterbiev himself sticks with the belief that the last thing a fighter wants to experience is a heavy-handed stalker who never lets up.

That is something Beterbiev, now 20-0 (20), does better than anyone in boxing today. Rarely, in fact, will he stop at three or four punches, convinced that to stop at that moment is the expectation; convinced that the fifth, and sixth, and seventh are the ones more likely, given the surprise element, to cause irreparable damage.

This Smith, 29-2 (21), found out the hard way in Canada. He could feel it building, no doubt, just as he could feel the ring shrinking, but still he had no answer for Beterbiev when the punches never stopped coming in round seven.

It started, the onslaught, with a right hand Beterbiev threw while on the back foot and this caught Smith high on the head, causing his knees to dip. He then tried to hold, or smother, but found only Beterbiev throwing more punches at him: uppercuts, hooks, and everything in between. This led to Smith trying to survive another way – moving, scurrying – yet that too was no good, for all it did was allow Beterbiev to sink his toes into the canvas and throw even harder punches, eventually nailing Smith with a wild left hook which had him slumping to the floor thereafter.

That represented the first time Smith had been down as a pro and the fight, in truth, could have been stopped there and then. However, it was to Smith’s immense credit that he beat the count and prepared himself for more. His hope, perhaps, was that he would either survive the round – unlikely as they had yet to reach its halfway point – or, during the inevitable attack, crack Beterbiev with his patented left hook on the way in.

As it happened, though, neither of these things transpired. Instead, with Beterbiev now never more certain of how and when the fight would end, Smith merely found himself again backed up to the ropes, where Beterbiev continued punching through the taller man’s guard until his legs betrayed him for a second time in the fight.

A corner intervention, thankfully, then spared Smith any more punishment and now, with the fight stopped, both fighters could be seen falling to their knees. Smith was quite naturally exhausted, and gutted, and maybe relieved it was over, whereas Beterbiev cut a figure similarly relieved but also nourished, well-fed. This, after all, is not only how the 38-year-old wins fights but it is also how he prefers to see opponents at the conclusion of them: beaten, broken, finally understanding. He will joke that it is “luck” because humour and violence make for an uncomfortable marriage, yet anyone who shares a ring with Beterbiev will know that “luck” has nothing to do with it. The truth, just as uncomfortable, is this: it’s something else.

Artur Beterbiev & Bob Arum (Via Top Rank)