Undefeated against undefeated, only good can come from it. At least that was the build up, but in actual fact it was bad. There was more than a smattering of punchless minutes. The MGM Grand, Las Vegas, NV crowd squirmed in their seats wanting something to happen. When it didn’t, they half heartily booed, not sure if they were doing the right thing. They were.
The fights limited action was okay for two or three rounds, and then in the fifth round Crawford dropped Postol with a surprise right hook. The punch landed high on the left side of Postol’s head. It had enough force and push to deposit Postol on the canvas.
When referee Tony Weeks started a count, Postol looked embarrassed, but not hurt. Later in the same round, in one of the few fierce exchanges, Crawford bounced a left off the right side of Postol’s jaw. Postol’s facial expression didn’t let on that he was hurt, but twitch in his legs did.
Crawford swooped in on him like bird on its prey, but he couldn’t land the finisher. Back to the old plan, continuous lateral movement with an occasional quick shot to Postol’s head or body. Seldom did he put combinations together, and Postol cooperated, pawing the air like a bear does when he stands upright on his hind legs.
It was an oddity if he landed a clean jab, let alone a right hand. Even when he tried to jab to the body, Crawford simply wasn’t there.
It can be said that Crawford put on an impressive display, but in all the skill exhibited, it lacked excitement. To make matters worse, Postol cooperated with the whole process. He failed to feint, and he failed to bring the bear like paw down low enough to jam into Crawford’s face or chest. Without his jab, he could kiss his right hand away. It wasn’t until the last couple of rounds that hall of fame trainer Freddie Roach read him the facts of life. Freddie’s dejected bit of news was a knockout was the only way.
Try as he might in the last couple of rounds, Crawford was not about to change his winning ways. He did add a couple of new wrinkles here and there. When necessary he showed Postol he was by far the strongest. He could manhandle and spin Postol, actually picking him up once,, which Weeks, not surprising, didn’t care for in the least. Crawford showed a sly, wily smile, and then in an un-sportsman like gesture, he stuck his tongue out at Postol. He can be forgiven for getting caught up in the excitement.
At bouts end, Max Kellerman couldn’t resist dropping Manny Pacquiao’s name in the electrified air. Crawford expressed a willingness to fight anyone, so there is a very real chance of that happening. Before the Saturday nights fight, that matchup tickled your fancy, but after the fight you wonder if Crawford might resemble Mayweather enough to take all the excitement out of a highly touted man-to-man. Fans don’t need another dog chases rabbit kind of fight.
Crawford carried the advantages in all areas. He was faster in both hand and foot speed. Plus, he was the bigger puncher. He was the better boxer, sliding in and out of the right side and then left side. When he wanted to he could rough up Postol on the inside too. There should have been no problem. But, there was. He simply did not add taking a risk to the equation. Postol was guilty of the same offense. Neither man was willing to go all out and risk his 28-0 record. Only excitement was lacking in Crawford’s masterful display, and that is the key element for fans.
