In one of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes strips, Calvin is consumed by a rare earnest moment and offers Hobbes “a penny for your thoughts.” Hobbes senses an opportunity and denies his buddy: “Sorry. My thoughts are a buck apiece.” After volleying some insults at his tiger, Calvin’s curiosity for this dollar-worthy musing overcomes his sensibility and he stuffs a quarter, all the money he has with him, into Hobbes’s paw. Hobbes smugly reveals his precious thought: “A fool and his money are soon parted.” He can’t quite finish the psychological coup de grace before Calvin tackles him in a fury.
I am not going to tackle a man as fearsome as Saúl “Canelo” Álvarez, the biggest star in boxing and winner of 60 professional fights. But he has been playing the role of Hobbes lately. A 140-pounder at his career’s inception, Canelo has climbed the weight classes like nobody’s business, achieving meaningful success at each pit stop. His fights have commanded more attention than any other boxer’s since the retirement of Floyd Mayweather—and were usually more entertaining than Floyd’s, too. However, after becoming undisputed super middleweight champion in 2021, Canelo finally ran headlong into his ceiling by stepping up to light heavyweight and losing comfortably to Dmitry Bivol. Since, Canelo has started to disappoint, selecting and fighting four consecutive overmatched opponents while ignoring calls for riskier fights. On Sept. 14, Canelo will fight his most gratuitously hopeless opponent in years, Edgar Berlanga, priced at 8,999 pennies on pay-per-view. I am going to hold on to my coin, and unless you are interested in making yourself a Calvin-level fool, I suggest you do the same.
From 2018 to 2021, Canelo authored one of the most superb runs in recent boxing history, beginning with a tight, unpopular win against Gennadiy Golovkin and ending with a knockout of Caleb Plant to secure the last belt at 168 pounds. He fought four times in a 12-month span starting in late 2020 (fighters are often shamed for their inactivity; Canelo fighting so often was a breath of fresh air) and spent most of that period ranked No. 1 on pound-for-pound lists. It’s a shame that this window of Canelo’s career is so recent, because it makes Canelo ducking David Benavidez in 2024 feel like more of a disappointment. Look a little harder at his career, though, and this behavior is entirely in character.
As a young fighter, Canelo rose to stardom almost immediately—not primarily for his skill in the ring, but for his uncommon blend of Mexican heritage and red hair. In 2011, he nearly got knocked out by Jose Miguel Cotto—Miguel Cotto’s younger, lesser brother—in the first round and was derided by hardcore fans as a fraud despite coming back to score a ninth-round KO. He was given a shot at Mayweather in 2013 and was essentially shut out in a 12-round schooling. But the trio of judges gave Canelo three, four, and a shocking six rounds. This reinforced the negative perception: Here was a fighter whose star power exceeded his ability by so much that the judges gave him rounds he didn’t deserve.
Canelo improved significantly, responding to the Mayweather fight by taking on Erislandy Lara, another tricky, defensive fighter, and securing a narrow win with the help of yet another dubious scorecard. He beat the superior Cotto brother in 2015 for the lineal middleweight championship. Now it was time for him to fight Golovkin, the middleweight boogeyman, who in lacking Canelo’s vibrant locks and star power had struggled mightily to get a big fight despite felling opponents like trees. But Canelo balked, vacating his WBC title to avoid a mandatory fight with Golovkin. For the next year, he fought smaller or uninterested opposition while Golovkin aged into his mid-thirties and started to decline. In September 2017, almost two years after he had secured the lineal middleweight title, Canelo finally took the fight against a diminished rival. Most observers thought he lost. He came away with a draw, in large part due to—wait for it—some suspiciously favorable scorecards. Canelo would eventually fight Golovkin three times, testing positive for the banned substance clenbuterol between the first two, and waiting another four years for the third. He came away with a 2-0-1 record, his only clean win coming against Golovkin’s 40-year-old silhouette.
Canelo’s lack of interest in fighting Benavidez, a younger, bigger opponent, is no surprise. The list of accomplishments amaze when taken at face value, like when ESPN’s Mike Coppinger wrote that “The all-time great's résumé includes a pair of wins over Gennadiy Golovkin and titles in five weight classes.” But the context surrounding those victories exposes his flaws. The way to view Canelo’s career is not that of an all-time-great who shows no fear of losing. Canelo may possess a titanium chin and a swift, punishing counterpunch. But he is not fearless, nor does he follow the wishes of the fans above his own. His star power has made him the darling of the business (and judges) for years, but several of his big wins came against fighters past their best. He claims to still be in his prime, but that only makes his current run worse: A supposed legend spending a fight near his apex on Edgar Berlanga is not someone who wants “all the smoke” but some light steam.
It’s not a prediction, but a spoiler to say that Canelo will handle Berlanga on Sept. 14. That doesn’t mean promoters won’t find things to talk about—Eddie Hearn is already making me wonder if I’m being scientifically observed for my reaction to bullshit by declaring that the skill gap between the fighters is not that big. And it doesn’t mean fans won’t be drawn to Canelo’s flame-colored hair like moths, forgetting that this fight is not relevant to pound-for-pound lists or anything else. To sell fights, promoters cover every available table with cups of Kool-Aid—Canelo might be declining! This is the latest edition of the great Mexico-Puerto Rico boxing rivalry! Berlanga seems confident!—and usually it’s hard to avoid drinking some of it.
I’d feel worse writing off Berlanga had I not paid $89.99 to watch Canelo fight Jaime Munguia, before which people said all the same things. (This time it was a Mexico vs. Mexico clash.) By all accounts Munguia is significantly better than Berlanga, and against him Canelo was dominant but not dazzling. I did not feel like I was watching an unmissable masterclass of skill that I needed to cherish. I felt like I was watching a band touring on the 25th anniversary of their one good album. I would be a sucker to pay to watch it again, and so would you.
