By Shaun Brown
HYPERBOLE and hoopla are constant companions in modern sport, with fans and businesspeople alike eager to anoint the next great phenom.
But for every prodigy who lives up to the billing – Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Ayrton Senna, Diego Maradona, Pele – there are many more who fall by the wayside.
In boxing, particularly among the heavyweights, the search for a generational talent never ends. The next Ali. The next Tyson. The next myth made real.
Most don’t make it. But every now and then, someone comes along who just might.
At only 20 years old, Moses Itauma has yet to complete 30 rounds as a professional, yet a world title already feels like a matter of when, not if.
A dozen fights into his career, many seasoned observers believe he could already trouble the sport’s top 10 heavyweights. So, what exactly is it that makes the Slovakian-born Brit so special?
Boxing News stepped into the world of Moses Itauma to find out.
THE AURA OF MOSES ITAUMA
It’s a word that might make some veterans scoff, but one the younger generation understands intuitively.
Itauma exudes confidence – not the brash, performative kind, but something deeper, quieter, and altogether more unsettling. He possesses a serenity that borders on eerie. Despite his youth, there’s a stillness to him; a poise that seems beyond his years.
Earlier this year, Dan Garber – Itauma’s eighth professional opponent – described his unsettling encounter with the young heavyweight to BN.
“I’ve been face-to-face with guys like Tom Carty and Viddal Riley, and you have a bit of back and forth,” he said.
“With that kid, it was like there were nothing there. No emotion. It was like looking at a blank canvas.
“I remember coming back to my uncle after seeing him – I said ‘he’s not right in the head, this kid’.”
Itauma isn’t interested in labels. “It does me no favours,” he told talkSPORT.
But his calm, detached demeanour recalls a young Mike Tyson – beating opponents psychologically before a punch is even thrown.
“It’s level-headedness at its most dangerous,” his manager, Francis Warren, said while sitting alongside him in the talkSPORT studio.
The psychological edge Itauma seems to carry can’t be overstated.
Opponents walk to the ring not only facing a physical threat but a young man who doesn’t blink, doesn’t react, and doesn’t flinch. It’s the kind of stillness that unsettles.
In a sport where nerves and ego often bubble to the surface, Itauma’s poker face may be as dangerous as his punch.
THE NATURAL ABILITY OF MOSES ITAUMA
Boxing is widely considered the toughest sport in the world – but Itauma makes it look easy.
His footwork, timing and shot selection seem almost preordained. Like a gifted footballer who sees a move unfold four passes ahead, Itauma operates on instinct; his movements pre-emptive rather than reactive. His hands land before his opponent can process what’s happening.
Former WBO cruiserweight champion Chris Billam-Smith saw this up close when a teenage Itauma spent time in Shane McGuigan’s gym and sparred Lawrence Okolie.
On episode 75 of The Boxing Show, aired in December, Billam-Smith described the remarkable natural ability on display.
“You get those talents – it doesn’t seem hard for him. Things just happen. He’s not going, ‘right I’m going to wait for him to do this or I’m going to try and set him up’. Like Usyk sets things up, he’ll set traps for people.
“These guys will do it but not know they’re doing it. He [Itauma] might see a jab and he’ll slip it and throw a right uppercut from that southpaw stance and then put a left hand on and it’s like ‘where did that come from?’
“You can’t think that quick consciously. It’s all subconscious with him. He’s a phenomenal talent.”
It’s rare to find a heavyweight with such fluidity.
Itauma doesn’t lurch forward with clumsy aggression or rely on brute strength. Instead, his movements are calculated, often invisible, allowing him to control the tempo of a fight before his opponent even realises they’ve lost control.
THE SPEED OF MOSES ITAUMA
At 6ft 4½ins and weighing a career average of 244lbs, Itauma is a full-sized heavyweight – but he moves like a middleweight.
That athleticism has been his most consistent advantage thus far. Opponents have struggled to anticipate, let alone counter, his bursts of movement and sudden punches.
In his demolition of Mike Balogun, Itauma showcased the speed that separates him from the pack. A long left hand detonated from range, dropping Balogun before he could react.
But Itauma’s speed isn’t just in his hands – it’s in the foot feints, the subtle head movement, the in-and-out rhythm that causes hesitation, uncertainty, and ultimately collapse.
Middleweight contender Denzel Bentley, who has spent significant time with Itauma in the gym, explained the effect in a recent interview.
“He is only 20 and what he is doing now is ridiculous, if I’m being honest,” Bentley told The Boxing Show in May.
“He is so smart, he’s got good punch selection, but it’s his ring generalship and IQ [that I like]; he knows where he is and he knows what he wants to do.
“His movement is amazing but the big advantage that he has got over all of these heavyweights is his speed; his movement, physically and his handspeed, is going to throw off all of these heavyweights.”
It’s a rare combination: heavyweight size with the reflexes and rhythm of a far lighter man.
Many young fighters rely on speed until experience teaches them to slow down. Itauma, however, blends speed with maturity. He knows when to explode, when to pause, and when to dismantle you with timing alone.
THE POWER OF MOSES ITAUMA
Itauma doesn’t possess the blunt-force trauma of someone like Daniel Dubois, but his power is no less dangerous – it’s just harder to see coming.
It’s the combination of speed and surprise that produces such destructive results.
Before opponents can brace themselves, they’re hurt. And when they’re hurt, they’re finished.
Dan Garber still remembers what Itauma’s punches felt like.
“I was just thinking to myself ‘what am I doing’ and I got in ring and the speed of the guy was just unreal,” he said.
“He hit me through my gloves, and I could feel the power.
“I’m confident in my chin, very, very confident. I think I’ve only been dropped once in professional boxing in 20 years, by Tom Carty. But the guy [Itauma] hit me, and it shook me through my body.
“When he caught me flush, I stood up to it. I think if he stays at it now, I think in 20 years’ time they’ll be talking about him like they talk about Lennox Lewis.
“That’s how good I think he’ll be, and I can say I boxed him.”
Itauma’s performance against Demsey McKean was another example of that silent menace.
The Australian had gone into the 12th round with Filip Hrgovic, but he didn’t hear the second bell against Itauma.
What’s striking is the variety of ways Itauma can hurt you.
Whether it’s a looping left, a short uppercut, or a stiff jab to the midsection, the delivery changes – but the effect is the same.
Ten of his 12 opponents have failed to hear the final bell. The rest were just trying to hang on.
THE WHOLE PACKAGE
Bigger tests await. Dillian Whyte, this weekend, may provide the sternest challenge yet. A seasoned veteran with real power and top-level experience, Whyte may ask questions Itauma hasn’t yet had to answer.
But from what we’ve seen so far, Itauma’s composure, athleticism and high ring IQ suggest he’s more than ready. That, perhaps, is the scariest part – for all he’s shown so far, he remains an unfinished product.
Even in his most explosive victories, there’s a sense Itauma is holding something back. Not through caution, but through calculation. His maturity allows him to fight at his own pace, which is often a few beats faster than everyone else. And when he lets go, the results are emphatic.
What makes Moses Itauma so good isn’t just one attribute, it’s the convergence of many: his psychological stillness, his natural feel for the sport, his freakish speed, and a power that’s as sudden as it is devastating.
Comparisons to the greats are premature, but they’re not unwarranted.
What we may be witnessing is not just a future world champion, but a once-in-a-generation fighter. One who, when all is said and done, could prove untouchable.
