It might have been an eliminator of another sort years ago. When Saul Alvarez’s reputation for daring insulated his secretly waning ambition, the two Davids, Benavidez and Morrell, could have turned the screws on him. A fight between Benavidez and Morrell at super middleweight would have left Alvarez with one proven and legitimate threat remaining in the division he had otherwise exhausted. Instead, Alvarez had none, or so he could suggest: each David serving as proof the other was still underserving. 

These politics of avoidance are laughable, of course; sophistic rubbish that acquires its force not from the fighter who offers it but from his supporters, those who wish to defuse criticism of their idol and thus imbue his feeble excuse with a veracity its author could never credit. There was, however, genuine interest in a fight between Benavidez and Morrell, who, without each other, were reduced to reusing Alvarez’s victims or worse. 

To their credit, neither Benavidez nor Morell bothered stalling careers in a division that is, historically, a pitstop. Thus, their fight at the T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas on Saturday was another eliminator (of sorts). At stake: a chance to face either Artur Beterbiev or Dmitrii Bivol for the light heavyweight crown. In boxing, eliminators and other such promises are ostensibly hollow unless the fighters are determined to validate them. Thankfully, there is little reason to believe the politics of avoidance figure where Beterbiev and Bivol are concerned. 

And certainly not with Benavidez, who clearly, though not without a ratifying moment or two of vulnerability, overwhelmed Morrell in winning a unanimous decision.  

*** 

Watching Benavidez brings to mind the apologue of the boiled frog, which states that a frog will immediately leap out when placed in a pot of boiling water. But if placed in a pot of tepid water gradually brought to a boil, the unfortunate amphibian, unaware of this sinister change, will boil to death. Many a Benavidez opponent has suffered this slow boil. Add Morrell to the list.

***

Against Benavidez, though, Morrell was in his element early, comfortable with the pace, with the deceptive speed and activity of the best opponent in his 12-fight career. The southpaw dropped his hands daringly and flashed an insolent grin as he parsed and mostly neutralized Benavidez, who was already encouraging a fight but had yet to turn up the heat. Morell’s defense was sharp too, though a tad theatrical, excessive not from necessity but from a sense of performance, a need to show everyone—not just the man steadily hunting him—that Morrell was neither underprepared nor overmatched. The price of that gratuitous movement would not go unpaid. 

Morrell seemed to understand that, until proven otherwise, you have to fight Benavidez to beat him. So he stood his ground, throwing with Benavidez, opening up with four and five-punch combinations when Benavidez went to the ropes. In the fourth round, though some of the hubris had drained from his bearing—his stance slightly widened, form slackened just enough to confirm that Benavidez had laid the groundwork for something evil—Morrell struck. A right hook momentarily buckled Benavidez; that crisp shot was sudden and undeniable proof the Cuban fighter could hurt him. But Benavidez responded according to his nature—he unloaded. And for the remainder of the round, all but erased with his assault, that flash of vulnerability. 

***

Benavidez has the unique ability to make his fights personal. There is something in his bearing, the arrogance, the delight in abuse, that, for men no less wired for violence, demands punishment. And something in his style too, in his indefatigability, the torrent of punches in service of one, two, three, four that deliver a debilitating venom. It is a style that would be aggravating were it not so hurtful. And it is applied artfully, with remarkable poise, in an almost self-sustaining manner, with each success seemingly recuperative, restorative, as if whatever the round, whatever his output, the more Benaviidez hits you, the greater his fire. How can you not take such torment personally?

And yet, this is what Benavidez wants: to turn a test of skill, talent, volition, existential, to make it desperate. It is then that he has you—when the water has reached a boil and it is too late to escape. 

There was no escape for Morrell. Yet, to his credit, he continued to fight Benavidez, to stand his ground because victory demanded it and because he’d overpaid for his defense early in the fight. His stylistic rigidity, those simple sequential combinations, however, were no answer for the fluid offensive creativity of Benavidez, who is reactive in the best way, ever ready to capitalize on a wide elbow, a hand brought back too low, a chin caught wagging from fatigue, and to precipitate those errors. Morrell scored a bogus knockdown in the eleventh, sending an off-balance Benavidez to the canvas with a sweep of the shoulder, but negated that ultimately inconsequential advantage when he was deducted a point for hitting after the bell; this nullification symbolic of an insurmountable deficit, of the abyss in class that separates the two. The scores read 118-108 and 115-111(twice) for Benavidez, who seemed appreciative but unmoved by Morrell’s determined effort. 

***

On February 22, the light heavyweight champion will either be newly crowned or confirmed. He already has his next opponent. A fighter who, frustrated with putting his career on hold for a reluctant champion, chose a more difficult path, who, instead of cleaning out a middling division, targeted a more dangerous one. Whoever emerges as the light heavyweight king will be more than happy to make a fight with Benavidez, and make it personal. Benavidez would have it no other way. Nor would we.