(Photo credit Matchroom Boxing) By Rob Blakeman: Far from being the fireworks display promised by Eddie Hearn to a lofty paying public, Saturday night’s super bantamweight unification ‘fight’ between IBF champion Carl Frampton and WBA champion Scott Quigg was little more than a damp squib. There was no explosion of pent-up anger or aggression from these two whose biggest argument seems to have been about who had which dressing room.
No, such was the anticlimactic nature of this ‘clash’ that the first six rounds were similar to watching a puddle evaporate. The trash talking, egotistical Frampton, merely pot-shotted timidly at the unbelievably ponderous Quigg who in turn, plodded forward like some kind of Neanderthal getting his first glimpse of fire. When things finally did develop a little Frampton seemed unable to cope with Quiggs strength but equally Quigg did very little to capitalize on this fact.
It made me long for the days of Ricky Hatton who, even in the face of far superior boxers, (Kostya Tszyu, Manny Pacquiao, Floyd Mayweather Jr) always pushed forward uncompromisingly, trying to turn the other guys’ lights out; this is how true fighting men should conduct themselves in battle, especially in defense of hard earned World Honors. Instead of this, we had \handbags at dawn’ for the first eight rounds, little more than reticent, gun shy, playground antics.
When things finally did develop a little Frampton seemed unable to cope with Quigg’s strength but equally the over cautious Quigg did very little to capitalize on this fact. In culmination, when urgency finally caught on in the last two or three rounds we were treated to no more than a bog standard, moderately competitive domestic squabble. I’ve watched far better sparring sessions in my time. Indeed, I’ve seen better fights outside public houses.
If I’d paid for a ticket to this World Title fight I fear I would be claiming my money back under the trades description act. No one could be satisfied with this none- event and no fighter should have lost his belt here as neither was dominant. However, equally no one deserved to keep their title either. In any case, I imagine Quigg, when watching a rerun of this pantomime of a boxing match will regret not going forward earlier due to fear of the seemingly non-existent punch power from a very weight drained, impotent Frampton. Both men were full of doubt and so both fell into the trap that is obvious when self belief is missing and that is the path requiring the least effort and risk. What a washout!
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