Over the past few months, I’ve often come across boxing fans—both online and in real life—who, after watching the fascinating first fight between Tyson Fury and Oleksandr Usyk, reached conclusions vastly different from my own. One particular interpretation has stood out, which I’ll refer to as the “myth of Tyson Fury’s distraction.”
According to this view, on May 18 of this year, the Gypsy King was dominating the fight comfortably until he let his guard down, thinking he had Usyk under control. This supposed relaxation led him to make a crucial mistake that turned the fight in Usyk’s favor. Supporters of this theory point to a specific punch in the eighth round, landing precisely on Fury’s nose, which allegedly caused him so much damage that he became nearly helpless in the following rounds.
This theory is widely popular, especially among those who favored Fury before the match. It may seem logical and contains some truth, but as I see it, it’s misleading and incomplete. This article aims to explain why.
To start, the narrative of “Fury dominating for seven rounds,” fueled in our country by DAZN’s Italian commentary, which was overly sympathetic to Fury in the opening rounds, is an exaggeration. In reality, until the end of the third round, while devoid of decisive moments and big punches, it was Oleksandr Usyk who was performing better.
In those opening nine minutes, the Ukrainian took the initiative, controlled the pace, landed the more effective shots, and kept Fury under pressure. Fury, on the other hand, was mostly limited to sporadic, commendable bursts and some antics. It’s no surprise that Usyk was ahead on all three judges’ scorecards by the end of the third round.
The phase genuinely favorable to the English giant began in the fourth round. Fury changed his strategy from evasion to a more aggressive approach, making his punches count, especially with body shots, which became a key weapon that opened the way for later shots to the head.
Fury reached his peak in rounds five and six, showcasing great boxing skills—quick footwork, varied and explosive punches, and perfectly timed shots each time Usyk entered his range, with uppercuts that pried open Usyk’s defense.
However, contrary to popular belief, Usyk’s “comeback” started well before the infamous nose punch. It began in the last minute of the seventh round, when Usyk started capitalizing on Fury’s energy expenditure from earlier efforts. Usyk finished that round on a high note, finding room to land punches that he hadn’t been able to connect in the prior three rounds. While this wasn’t enough to win him the round, it was enough to get him back in the game.
By the start of the eighth round, the tide had shifted. Fury’s punches were no longer landing with the same explosiveness, precision, or frequency, and Usyk was finding it easier to close the distance and land his own shots. Before the famous “nose punch,” Usyk had already landed a beautiful one-two combo in the center of the ring, which Fury, a master of deception, shrugged off with a mocking smile. But the punch had landed and hurt Fury, foreshadowing what was about to come.
No, Usyk didn’t rely on a single moment of Fury’s distraction to turn the fight around with a lucky punch. This theory may work as a consolation for those convinced that the Gypsy King would easily dominate Usyk, only to realize they were completely mistaken. But it’s not what happened that night.
Usyk did what he has done before, against Mairis Briedis, for instance, and in his rematch against Anthony Joshua. With his relentless style, constant pressure, and unique ability to stay in front of his opponent, Usyk forced Fury to exhaust his resources, blunted his best weapons through sheer grit, and eventually took control as he ramped up his offense.
If you don’t agree, rewatch the fight calmly and focus on what happened in the final part of the seventh round and the beginning of the eighth. You’ll notice that when Usyk brutalized Fury’s nose, the momentum had already shifted, and Usyk’s takeover was already underway.
A final note for those who try to demonstrate Tyson Fury’s alleged carelessness by pointing to his antics and taunts throughout the fight. While these behaviors may be divisive, they have always been an integral part of Fury’s style and serve a purpose beyond mere entertainment.
A seasoned fighter, Fury knows that a critical skill of a great boxer is the ability to “lie.” A champion must be able to make the opponent and the judges believe he is in total control, even when he is struggling. Fury is among the best in the world at this, and a brilliant example of this ability came in the twelfth and final round of the fight on May 18.
Both fighters were utterly exhausted by then. Fury had taken a beating in the ninth round, compounded by the blows of the next two; Usyk had spent massive reserves of physical and mental energy in his dogged attempt to secure the KO. Both men threw weary punches in a desperate bid to sway the judges in their favor.
It was not a clear-cut round by any means. Official stats show that Usyk landed more punches (18 to 10), doubling Fury’s power punches (14 to 7), yet all three judges awarded the round to Fury. Why? From my perspective, it came down to the fighters’ contrasting body language.
Usyk, utterly focused, seemed isolated from everything but his next actions, steps, and punches. Fury, the usual illusionist, dodged punches with his hands down, and, ten seconds from the end, exhausted and with legs feeling like lead, hid his hands behind his back in a Roy Jones Jr. imitation.
Fury didn’t “clown around” because he underestimated his opponent or thought he had the fight in the bag. He did it because clowning around is one of the many arrows in his quiver, a weapon that once completely destabilized Wladimir Klitschko and earned him his first world title.
In less than two months, the eagerly awaited rematch between the two best heavyweights of this era will bring us many answers. It will clarify once and for all whether Tyson Fury was a victim of distraction or if Oleksandr Usyk has the ace needed to dethrone the King.