Terence “Bud” Crawford, the most accomplished fighter of his generation, announced his retirement last night on social media, saying he had “nothing else left to prove.”
It's hard to argue with the man. Crawford leaves the fight game with a 42-0 record, and recognized as the only fighter in the alphabet soup era of boxing to hold undisputed championships in three different weight classes. The first of his undisputeds came at light welterweight (140 lbs.) in 2017, when he KO’d Namibian Julius Indongo with a savage third-round left hook to the kidney in Lincoln, Neb., in a fight that only a few boxing hardcores cared about.
Then Crawford procured all the welterweight (147 lbs.) belts in 2023 by completely dismantling alleged peer Errol Spence in as perfect a big-fight performance as any boxer in memory has delivered. Crawford didn’t throw a bad punch in any of the nine one-sided rounds before referee Harvey Dock stopped the beating.
And in September, in front of a packed Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas and with the whole sporting world paying attention, Crawford outboxed, outpunched, and outeverythinged fellow all-timer Saul “Canelo” Alvarez in attaining a unanimous decision win and absolute supermiddleweight supremacy. Crawford, who moved up to 168 pounds for the greatly anticipated fight, was so dominant that a rematch with the Mexican legend wouldn’t interest anybody. Crawford left himself without any obvious future fight options, really. He was too good for his own good.
I felt sorry for myself and swell for Crawford when I heard the retirement news. Sorry because as a Crawford fan the thrills are gone, and I’ll never get to see this violent virtuoso in action again. Swell because boxers go out on top so rarely.
I still think all the time about that night in 1994 when I walked into the D.C. Convention Center just in front of Leon Spinks, some 16 years after he beat Muhammad Ali to win the world heavyweight championship. Spinks was alone and drunk. He was scheduled to fight in a couple hours, and I was there to watch him. The former baddest man on the planet got knocked out just a minute into the first round by John Carlo, a construction worker making his professional boxing debut. If I’ve ever seen a sadder spectacle in sports than a soused Spinks getting slept, it’s not coming to mind.
Every fight fan fears a similarly sad ending for their favorites, and it's a story that Crawford seems tired of seeing play out as well. In a short movie he posted on YouTube last night along with his retirement announcement, Crawford acknowledged boxing’s habit for eating up its own. “I've won a different kind of battle,” he said. “The one where you walk away on your own terms.”
Here's hoping he sticks to those terms, and we don't have to watch him step into a ring with one of the Paul brothers in Riyadh anytime soon.
