Rolando ‘Rolly’ Romero comically derides the prospects of Terence Crawford against the titanic figure of Canelo Alvarez in their anticipated matchup set for September 13th. Romero, known for his unyielding confidence and brash persona, portrays Crawford as an underdog who’s simply ill-equipped to traverse the rocky landscape of the super middleweight division. The vast weight difference between them, 21 pounds, undermines any argument that Crawford could compete at this level. For Romero, it’s an uphill battle with few consolations, making the fight less about legacy and more about financial gain—a “cash-out” scenario that raises eyebrows and critiques alike.
In his assessment, Romero doesn’t mince words. He argues that Crawford’s motives for stepping into the ring with Alvarez are driven more by currency than accolades. While boxing aficionados often debate the merits of legacy versus financial compensation, Romero offers an unwavering stance: if Crawford were sincerely invested in his legacy, he would have sought a safer route up the ranks, perhaps with a tune-up fight to acclimate to the weight change before confronting a powerhouse like Canelo. The difference between chasing glory and chasing a payday can often be stark, and in Romero’s eyes, the latter seems to be what motivates Crawford.
Critically, Romero points out an essential fact: Canelo is no longer the fledgling fighter who fell to Floyd Mayweather Jr. back in 2013. He has improved not just in skill but also in physicality and mental prowess. Canelo Alvarez now represents the apex of what boxing has to offer; his power and technique could very well obliterate an opponent who’s not prepared for the dramatic disparity in weight and strength. Canelo’s experience against renowned fighters has grown him into a formidable champion. Romero highlights the remarkable transformation of Canelo’s game, symbolizing the danger awaiting Crawford in the ring.
Indeed, Romero draws attention to a pivotal aspect of combat sports: size does matter. When he invokes the name of Jermell Charlo, who also moved up a weight class to face Canelo, he underscores the grim reality—Crawford’s current stature offers little solace. If Charlo struggled against Canelo’s might, can one expect anything less than disaster for Crawford, who has displayed vulnerability in prior bouts at lower weight classes? His argument is punctuated by a nobility in questioning how an agile 147-pounder evaluates his chances against a seasoned 168-pounder.
Romero’s critique resonates on an emotional level, as he presents the idea that Crawford’s choice reflects a sad trend where fighters prioritize financial success over competitive integrity. It calls attention to a growing issue in boxing—will the lure of monetary gain ultimately undermine the sport’s legacy? For fans, there’s a bittersweet element in such matchups, especially when one considers that true heroes often seek challenging fights to etch their names in the annals of history, rather than merely padding their bank accounts. Ultimately, these discussions reveal deeper ethical dilemmas within the sport, leaving legacies at risk of being overshadowed by the sparkle of financial rewards.