Luke Campbell shines to restrict Vasyl Lomachenko sorcery to merely old-fashioned boxing magic

They came for Vasyl Lomachenko sorcery inside the O2 ring on Saturday night and stood as Luke Campbell simply refused to be mesmerised by the boxing magic of the little Ukrainian genius. It was not an illusion, just a prizefight in the end.

Campbell was hurt, dazed, heavily dropped, his body broken, saved by the bell in one round, in a desperate way at times and still he moved his feet feet and let his punches go to make Lomachenko look normal again and again. Lomachenko you see, was not created equal as a boxer, and he entered the ring after only 14 fights as a champion in three weight divisions, as a man on the very brink of writing his own history in a sport where his presence next to the genuine greats was discussed seriously. The enigma from the old Soviet republic was a problem for the keepers of boxing’s holy scripture.

At the end of 12 rounds Lomachenko retained his WBA and WBO lightweight titles, added the WBC version when the judges delivered very wide scores of 119-109 and two of 119-108. It was harsh on Campbell, he arguably won four rounds and made all twelve competitive. The ugly physical struggle by officials from the three sanctioning bodies to drape their little darling in their gaudy baubles should never be repeated. Lomachenko looked uncomfortable as the men fought over the positions of their trophies, on his tired body, like three demented window dressers fixing tacky bras on a mannequin.

After about six rounds I wondered if Lomachenko had misplaced his conjuring cloak and had settled on just being slippery and clever and ordinarily brilliant. However, any attempt to make Lomachenko normal ignores Campbell’s role in a night of wonder. It would be premature, possibly outrageous, to say Campbell exposed Lomachenko, but he certainly put a hefty dent in the increasingly sacred narrative, especially at the lightweight poundage.

Campbell has known Lomachenko, boxed next to him, before him and after him on afternoons, nights and odd mornings at tournaments all over the world for the last 16 years; they won gold medals together, they shared glory and during the journey Campbell lost all fear of Lomachenko. In the O2 ring a brave, dangerous and fearless attitude turned a predicted masterclass, a potential boxing massacre, into a truly absorbing fight. Campbell lost, make no mistake, but he pushed Lomachenko in every single round.

There was something lost in translation, trust me, when Lomachenko said at the end that Campbell had given him a “good fight.” It was far more than that and will probably be the fight that persuades Lomachenko to reverse through the weights and fight smaller men in his future. Long before Lomachenko’s tiny fist was raised a list of great lightweights formed in my head, a top ten without Lomachenko’s looming presence – Campbell’s size and heart did that to my thinking. It seems that, just perhaps, the journey by Lomachenko through so many complex layers of boxing history stalled on Saturday night.

Campbell won the first, Lomachenko the second – it was a pattern they followed for a few more rounds. Lomachenko looked happy at the start, cocky at times, often getting his feet ready, feinting to throw by moving his head, dipping a shoulder and then rolling in his special way to safety, out of Campbell’s considerable range. Lomachenko has done that before, does it all the time and it is generally a dreaded warning that in the coming rounds he will not so innocently move away. It was perhaps the fight’s only illusion.

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As the bell sounded to end round five, Lomachenko connected with a sickening left under the right arm and Campbell’s body jerked, his face contorted and he actually lifted a foot up off the canvas. It looked – like so many other fights – like the start of the end; in round six Campbell came out, knowing one more tap on his liver and he would be dribbling and crying on his knees, but he won the round. It was, I thought, 3-2 in rounds. We had a fight, make no mistake.

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A looping left uppercut, once deliciously called a bolo punch, clearly hurt Lomachenko in the seventh, but he won the round, discarding the elegance and having to fight. The eighth was the same and then Campbell – so deep in the struggle – nicked the ninth. They say Sly Stallone was ringside (he’s hard to spot in a towering crowd) and perhaps he was jotting down on an old fag packet a plot for an implausible boxing movie. I gave Campbell the tenth and going into round eleven, with over 18,000 still on their feet, I had it 6-4 in rounds.

In round eleven, Campbell was down with less than a minute to go, his body could take the torture from Lomachenko’s fists no more. He showed the pain, regained his feet and then something truly memorable happened inside that wonderful O2 ring: Lomachenko stood back, held off, looked at Campbell and then the bell sounded. It was bedlam, a bit of Hollywood in south London and it was midnight. Lomachenko, clearly drained, won the last, was quick to complain when a shot dipped low and both finished with marks and bruises. The scores were brutal, but it was not about rounds in the end. Campbell left the ring in a hurry to be observed by the doctors at the venue in the privacy of his dressing room and not under the searing neon of the ring. He is fine, just exhausted.

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“I will tell you,” said Bob Arum, now 87 and in some category far beyond veteran. “Loma is pushing it at lightweight. He can go down in weight – he will not go up in weight.” There is a loose plan for a fight with the dangerous, erratic and troubled Gervonta Davis, who is under Floyd Mayweather’s dubious protection. However, Arum is not convinced: “Right now Gervonta Davis is not ready for Loma – Gervonta Davis might never be ready for Loma.” Arum has obviously started early negotiations.

It will always be Campbell’s finest hour, the most glorious of defeats. Meanwhile, the men in the Lomachenko business will plan his future with sense and grace. It was a pleasure to be ringside for it, an often dreamlike night watching old-fashioned boxing magic.