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There is a quote often attributed to Leonardo Davinci that reads “simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” This feels like apt wisdom when it comes to analyzing Dmitry Bivol, whose approach in the ring is unpretentious and fundamentally adherent, but at the same time one of the sport’s most puzzling riddles for his opponents.
On Saturday night in Abu Dhabi, Bivol thoroughly outboxed Gilberto “Zurdo” Ramirez to defend his WBA light heavyweight title. Prior to the bout, Bivol looked as unassuming as a high-level boxer possibly could. Rather than the posh or gaudy pre-fight and in-ring attire most fighters elevate to upon reaching the sport’s highest levels and cashing the commensurate checks associated with doing so, Bivol simply wore a white t-shirt with his last name in black lettering, smooth black trunks, and a sleeveless black ring coat with nothing more than his promoter’s logo and one sponsor’s emblem sewn on. There was also no elaborate setup around him, no craft table for his hangers-on, no pulsating music, just a row of plastic folding chairs and his gym bag behind him.
When the bell sounded, Bivol did what he always does: Dominate using the sport’s most basic procedures, performed remarkably well. In a world fascinated with short-form content, Bivol’s fights aren’t necessarily fertile ground for eye-popping Reels or TikToks, not unless you catch him in slow motion. In real time, Bivol’s fights seem to fly by quietly. He moves elegantly, but never too far from his opponent, always just far enough away that he can get to his opponent but they cannot to him. He throws in combination, but never excessively, always knowing that a step backwards is more useful that one more punch at the end of a combo that could invite a reply. He throws powerfully, but always in straight lines with his jab and cross, and always quick to the point with his left hooks.
Watching Bivol dominate opponents is like watching an intelligent person be completely befuddled by a short and seemingly basic equation. Bivol is boxing’s version of the Sum of Three Cubes. Bivol’s three tools are ones that every boxer who has completed their apprenticeship knows inside and out, yet they can’t solve him. Rounds go by, one after another, without Bivol’s opponent being able to gather even a hint of momentum, their self-belief visibly dwindling, their game-plan becoming secondary to just hearing the final bell and moving on.
The look on Ramirez’s face after the 11th round was particularly instructive. After losing the vast majority of the previous rounds, Ramirez’s corner implored him in the tenth to ramp up his aggression, which he tried his best to do. Time after time in the 11th, Ramirez would bend open, dipping his head down to try to roll under something to get him to the inside. Sometimes he would parry a right hand right his right glove and get smacked with a jab before he could get there, sometimes just swatted with a left hook before Bivol circled just far enough out of his reach. This pattern continued for most of the round. When the bell sounded, Ramirez flashed a half smile, touched gloves with Bivol, then put his head down seemingly solemnly walking back to his corner. He had tried everything to no avail, and he still had three minutes of fruitless labor in front of him.
At the end of the night, two judges found three rounds for Ramirez, and another found two, but at no point did the fight feel like it could have headed in his direction. Bivol seemed to be moving two seconds ahead of Ramirez at all times, issuing a reply to anything Zurdo even considered for a moment. Also, in the short moments when the fighters did find themselves engaged chest to chest, it was Bivol who dictated where their bodies went.
“He has good timing but he’s slow,” Bivol said at the post-fight press conference. “He’s slower than me. I could see his punches coming. When I landed he countered to the body. That was it. He’s slow but he has good timing. In sparring session, I tried to push forward. He throws a lot of punches, which tells me you are not strong. When your opponent is not strong, you can push forward.”
After defeating Canelo Alvarez and now the undefeated Ramirez, Bivol finds himself in the conversation—and as perhaps the clubhouse leader for—Fighter of the Year amongst male boxers. He certainly has strong competition in Kenshiro Teraji, Bam Rodriguez, and perhaps even Chocolatito Gonzalez depending on the result of his upcoming trilogy bout with Juan Francisco Estrada. However, to the degree that it matters when submitting one’s vote in the category, Bivol’s work in 2022 has landed him in the Top 5 in people’s mythical pound-for-pound rankings, a place his challengers aren’t quite at. That doesn’t necessarily mean Teraji, Rodriguez or potentially Chocolatito’s wins are collectively less impressive, but a win over a man who was the sport’s consensus No. 1 specifically (even taking into consideration Bivol’s size advantages in that bout) will be weighted more heavily by voters, and justifiably so.
Bivol has also altered the perception of him in the boxing public perhaps more than any other fighter in recent memory in a two-fight span. He entered the ring in May as a presumed tune-up and easy title grab for Canelo in the minds of many in the fanbase, and left the ring in November with some on the same timeline now asking “who can beat Dmitry Bivol?”
The way to beat Bivol will require subtle sophistication, beating him at the simple things he does better than anyone in the sport today.
Corey Erdman is a boxing writer and commentator based in Toronto, ON, Canada. Follow him on Twitter @corey_erdman