That was then, this is now: The fall of Miguel Berchelt

A year ago, Miguel Berchelt held the WBC super featherweight title. He had reigned as champion for over four years making eight successful defenses. His fights were brawls - where offensive was more important than defense.

Knockouts were common.

Many considered Berchelt a knockout machine. The evidence was there. 38 fights, 34 knockouts. Power was his thing.

When he faced fellow champion Oscar Valdez last year, Berchelt was the odds-on favorite. Big time. Valdez had looked flat and disinterested in his recent fights. He was a man in search of a style.

Berchelt was in search of another knockout. 18 0f 19 experts picked him to win. He was too big, they said. Too powerful. And more importantly, he’d looked super while starching five straight fighters. Berchelt was beyond confident. Asked how he felt hours before the fight, Berchelt said, “Look at my face. I’m smiling.”

I remember thinking he looked too confident. Seconds before the bell to start the fight, Valdez stood in his corner staring at Berchelt. The determination was obvious. I muttered, “Valdez is going to win.”

And boy, did he.

The fight began slowly. Respect. Valdez was moving and punching. He likely banked the opening stanza. As advertised, Valdez was the smaller man by far, but much quicker. His jab was on point. Had he found his style?

Berchelt landed a right in round three. Valdez snapped his head back with more jabs. He also landed a sweet left hook. Berchelt was stalking, but not rocking. He had said he’d knock out Valdez. Instead, in round four, he was the one who was almost unconscious. A counter left hook wobbled him. Valdez opened up, sending Berchelt to the ropes - an automatic knockdown.

In round five, Valdez went right back to work. He landed another left to the head.  Berchelt looked fully recovered in round six. He went to the body. Valdez connected with a left.  

Valdez went back to jabbing in round seven. He was fighting the perfect fight. Berchelt chased Valdez - landing a right. Valdez fought back with hooks that landed. In the next heat, he connected with a beauty of a one-two. Valdez continued to get off first in round nine. A three-punch combination put Berchelt on the seat of his pants. Valdez kept his cool. The assassin-in-waiting. Berchelt made it to hear the bell. Valdez went back to the stick in round 10. Berchelt’s face swelled, his legs wobbled. Valdez landed a long right.

The end was near.

Near the completion of the round, as Berchelt chased, Valdez exploded with a left hook that landed on Berchelt’s chin. The now ex-champion folded up and collapsed to the canvas.

It was sudden and brutal. Boxing at its apex. A car wreck you can’t look away from.

Berchelt went to the hospital. He checked out the next day. Went home to Mexico to lick his wounds. He came back last Saturday. With a new trainer and refreshed. Lightweight was now his division.

His opponent, Jeremia Nakathila, was not impressed.

“He’s not the same guy, “said Nakathila before the fight.

Ouch. The truth hurts. Nakathila dominated from the opening bell. Berchelt watched but didn’t fire back much. Boxing is a game of milliseconds. Berchelt was late and eating punches. Always gutsy, he landed a sweeping left hook in round five. Nakathila looked surprised but was soon battering Berchelt some more.

The end came after round six. Berchelt had wobbled to his corner. He sat down heavily. The referee had seen enough. Nobody complained.

Though disappointed with his third career knockout loss, Berchelt insisted he’d be back.

“I’m going to get up,” said Berchelt. “I’m going to rise from this. The great champions are not the ones who fall. The great champions are those who rise, and I will go home, spend time with my family, visit with them, get some rest, and I am going to come back stronger than ever.”

No.

Nakathila was right. He’s not the same guy.

Oscar Valdez took care of that guy.