IN the lead-up to what was billed as the greatest fight card of all time, on February 22, Steve Bunce looked back at some classic Russian rumbles from recent years, featuring current star Dmitry Bivol.
There is more to a great night of boxing than a list of top boxers in title fights.
The show in Riyadh in February is one of the finest, deepest, most varied bills that I have ever seen. It’s quality, no doubt.
A few months ago, when I was looking through Dmitry Bivol’s record from first to last, from promise to glory, I took a close look at his early nights and fights. It can be telling, revealing in many ways.
Bivol’s apprenticeship was in the shadow of some of the modern sport’s craziest nights; his first 10 fights often took place on bills in Moscow that were quite ridiculous. Some were screened on BoxNation, offering hours and hours of lunacy in the middle of the week.
They were varied offerings, that is for sure. There were savage fights, soldiers singing in the ring with tears running down their cheeks, women dancing, the occasional cameo of a rapping Roy Jones and always a slugfest or two or three.
Bivol was in an ancient and brutal game from the start. The Russians were leading the way at that point, make no mistake. The bills remind me of the recent Riyadh Season specials.
Some of the bills are truly extraordinary and packed with forgotten classics, fights that went under the radar on those early Wednesday evening marathon sessions that we had in the heyday of BoxNation. We would meet at the ancient Thai, just down from the studio, and Jim Bentley, the legendary producer, would place a bout sheet on the oily table.
It would have a long, long list of fights for odd titles and often even odder matches. I remember we nicknamed Bivol, the Swivel – it never stuck. Bivol against Joey Vegas, the Ugandan-born fighter once run by Mickey Helliet, pops up as a fun fight. The connections were mind-blowing.
Imagine nights, starting at about 4pm, featuring Alexander Povetkin, Denis Lebedev, Dmitry Kudryashov, Rakhim Chakhkiev, Olanrewaju Durodola, Manny Charr and Ola Afalobi all in brawls. What a time it was, an innocent time in many ways. The undercards also had the kids, the other unbeaten Russian and Kazak boys, all dreaming like Bivol: Egor Mekhontsev, Sergey Kuzmin and Sergey Lipinets.
Bivol made his debut at the Luzhniki in Moscow in November 2014, just a few months after winning the Russian national title as an amateur. He was destined and the bill was stacked with quality unbeaten men.
The main event was Ruslan Provodnikov against the veteran, Jose Luis Castillo; it was Castillo’s 80th and final fight. The big lads were also there; Kudryashov and Chakhkiev both had quick wins. Kudryashov stopped what was left of Juan Carlos Gomez in just 22 seconds. Gomez never fought again. Bivol stopped Uruguayan journeyman, Jorge Rodriguez Olivera, in the sixth; it was Olivera’s eleventh loss in 36 fights. He was a boxer with a well-worn passport.
Bivol was off, the scene was set for massive bills on nights when stars were made, some great fighters were retired, and hungry kids got the experience they needed. The armchair fans loved it.
Perhaps Bivol’s fifth fight was on the best night. It took place in Kazan, which is a 12-hour train journey from Moscow, and it was stacked. I’m not sure where to start, to be honest.
In a WBC silver heavyweight fight, Povetkin stopped Mariusz Wach in the last round. Edouard Troyanovsky defended his IBF super-lightweight title with a stoppage win against Cesar Rene Cuenca. And then the quality starts when the Cruisers enter the action.
Chakhkiev was stopped in a five-round war with London-born Ola Afalobi for the IBO cruiserweight title. Denis Lebedev stopped Lateef Kayode in the eighth; Kayode was 21 and zero going in. Durodola stopped Kudryashov, the Russian Hammer, in two rounds.
It was the Hammer’s first loss in 19 fights and his previous 18 had all finished inside the distance, including seven in the first round. I’m not sure of the number, but I’m thinking six or more of his fights had been screened on BoxNation. We loved the Russian Hammer, and we loved the nicknames on those shows – that is why we called Bivol, the Swivel. He never had a nickname.
There was the Russian Hammer, Kryptonite, the Machine, the Power, God’s Power, the Viking, the Eagle and El Distino (Destiny). Obviously, Lebedev never had a nickname; there was no chance that Denis would ever succumb to such triviality as a nickname. He was Denis Lebedev, the hardest man in Russia and that title defies any nickname.
On that night in Kazan, Bivol stopped Brazil’s Jackson dos Santos, an old-school journeyman. It was a decent win for his fifth fight. Even the Brazilian had a nickname and was known as Demolidor, the Daredevil. I like that.
Bivol’s next fight was his American debut and then he won the interim WBA belt – his seventh fight – on a show promoted in part by the IBA’s Umar Kremlev; on the night there was a large presence by one of the notorious and legitimate Russian biker gangs. Lebedev was on the bill, Kudryashov, Chakhkiev and even Bob Ajisafe had a cameo in an IBO light-heavyweight fight.
The ancient soldier in the hooped shirt was back to sing his patriotic songs. It’s hard to invent these nights. Kremlev was one of the first to get in the ring at the end of the Bivol and Beterbiev fight last year. The connections are never hard to find inside our tiny global village.
Yep, the February show in Riyadh is some bill, but those Russian nights, where champions were made, were unforgettable.
