Should we have another bout or not?

After the intense sabre rattling that ensued from one Cossack defeating another in the fight to become the undisputed world light-heavyweight champion of boxing, it is the question that is still being sorted through the desert sands.

It had been a close duel. The scoring is difficult. The vote was divided. The debate was unavoidable.That was all insufficient to excuse the cries of thievery that arose as the sun rose above Riyadh’s numerous minarets. However, fanatics are never far from the shadows.

Dmitry Bivol was deemed to have lost to Artur Beterbiev. rather than unanimously. Not shockingly, but narrowly.

The first person to hold every Aladdin belt in this division of the hardest game for 25 years did not boast.

Beterbiev acknowledged that he wasn’t at his most terrifying and felt a little lucky that two of the three judges thought he had used just enough forceful punching to win the match.Putting the spinning dervishes in his camp to shame, Bivol rejected excuses, choosing instead to salute his fellow Russian and admitting that maybe his own performance had not been as flawless as he had hoped. He left with the promise to hone his abilities even more if a rematch was necessary.

Is one going to happen? The two boxers responded in unison with a qualified “Yes, if His Excellency so desires.” Put another way, present the cash.

With great anticipation, Turki Alalshikh, the paymaster in question, replied, “Yes, yes, next May.”

The man is said to have crossed their palms in the intense heat of the moment, carrying around ten million dollars apiece, to participate in the grand opening of the Riyadh Season, which is a wintertime celebration of sport, entertainment, and culture.However, would the initial Beterbiev v. Bivol version hold up to close examination? Will the more somber realization be that the eagerly anticipated match between the world’s two greatest 175-pounders didn’t live up to the high expectations?

Although that was a very technical battle that the ring brotherhood would be proud of, will the general public really be that interested in seeing it again?

I was one of those people who was completely engrossed with the superiority and enormous physical prowess of two thirty-something males. I would adore it if they could finally resolve their disagreement. In all honesty, though, it was not the headlining, brain-melting, stratospheric, seat-edge, supersonic, blow your brains out battle of a lifetime that we had anticipated would spark a revival of boxing’s heyday.

Then, the Battle of the Year? Question it. The opening ceremony’s fireworks were unmatched by any other action-packed event. Not quite the same scorching intensity as the fires rising above the curtain-raising performances of the hip-hop artists currently in style.

There were two courageous men, more skilled than most in this trade, going about their violent work. Maybe the enormity of the occasion weighed heavily on them, making them feel important.

It was not nearly Beterbiev the Monster. Bivol provided the customary brilliance, but at his final expense, he stood back and observed his mastery for far too many, protracted breaks between his exquisite flourishes.Not too dramatic. They were never in trouble together. Very little strain in the structure. This, however, was not the Thrilla of Arabia.

The level of detail was amazing.

Known for being the working man’s ballet, Bivol is currently the premier dancer in boxing. He moved light-footedly through the first three rounds, dominating Beterbiev with his rapier jab.

The middle rounds were erratic in their direction. Many of them may have been tied, but since that kind of scoring is usually not accepted, the person who caught their attention with a surge before the bell usually won.

Beterbiev was in serious contention after his barnstorming closing rounds, there was no doubting that.

Nevertheless, Bivol overcame the world’s most formidable puncher in terms of power per round to become the first person to stop Beterbiev the knockout artist for the entire twelve rounds.

Well done to both, but there could only be one victor. Beterbiev received the approval of two judges, one by a vote of 116–112, which was somewhat unfair to Bivol.

One that matched my own card, 115-113. It’s possible that the third man at ringside correctly predicted a 114-114 draw, which would have strengthened the argument for a rematch.

Are they, however, truly keen? At 39 years old, Beterbiev is a spectacular specimen, but when he stated, “I didn’t feel good and would have to be better in a rematch,” it seemed as though he was now feeling his age.

Maybe his ‘ultimate success’ and reason to resign would be to become uncontested.

Even at 33, Bivol maintains the same aspirations, but does he still have the same fervor when he declares, “I have to make another decision regarding my future?”