Today, I want to share my thoughts on how to prepare for a rematch against an opponent who managed to create uncertainty in the final judgment of the first bout. I take inspiration from Usyk vs. Fury II: both athletes, along with their teams, meticulously evaluated the best strategy, paying attention to even the smallest details, so they could exploit those fleeting moments—those brief openings—when, like a fox or a weasel, a decisive attack could earn valuable points.
Fury opted for a more physical preparation, gaining 10 kg in the hope that the extra weight would pressure and unsettle a much smaller, lighter opponent. Despite Usyk’s rhythm and technique, Fury counted on winning the match before the twelfth round. However, he failed to consider that gaining those extra kilos might work against him or, perhaps, he chose the wrong sparring partners, who weren’t technically up to Usyk’s level.
Usyk was flawless—a boxer who, from a historical perspective, might be one of those who revolutionizes boxing, pushing it toward an evolution that makes it even more captivating. Unbothered by Tyson Fury’s weight, Usyk prepared both physically and technically, knowing he was up against the best heavyweight of this era. He left nothing to chance, staying a step ahead in boxing intelligence (just my opinion, no offense intended). Compared to the first fight, Usyk understood that to prove who was superior, he had to make adjustments—his class and technique alone wouldn’t suffice against Fury.
Analyzing the December 21 rematch, it’s clear that Usyk was the superior fighter because his strategy was the most effective—the right one to secure victory. He spent the first four rounds playing it safe, staying in control to identify the right moment to take charge and win. Each time he landed a shot, it was almost always on Fury’s body or, at most, his chest. What effect does this have on the opponent? It saps their physical endurance, wears them down mentally, and slows them down.
From the fifth round, Usyk increased his body and foot movement, never offering a fixed target. Between the sixth and seventh rounds, he altered his punch trajectories, ramping up the pace of his combinations and delivering as many strikes as possible to both the body and the head. From that point on, Usyk continued to rise, showcasing boxing intelligence unmatched by any active fighter. Even though he isn’t a natural heavyweight, he demonstrated that every match—especially a rematch—requires meticulous preparation in every single detail.
In my heart, I’ve always believed that the missing ingredient for many boxing coaches is the word empathy. It’s not simple; it needs to be explained, taught, and heavily practiced. Empathy is understanding what someone is capable of doing in any given moment based on their body movements. It’s a magical concept that can transform both individuals and athletes, enabling them to anticipate the opponent’s actions, strike first, or time their punches to highlight their own boxing style.
As a former boxer, I could illustrate this with my match against Christophe Rodriguez, where the European title was on the line at the Palalido in Milan. It was my first defense, held on the undercard of the late, legendary Giovanni Parisi’s final fight.
Rodriguez, whom I had already faced twice before, never managed to make an impact. For me, that match was almost “aphrodisiacal”—an opportunity to showcase the preparation achieved through hard work and sacrifice, allowing me to display my abilities at the time. I vividly recall the lengthy applause that followed the judges’ scorecards. In that moment, overwhelmed by emotion, I realized that my boxing had touched the hearts of the spectators and fans of Milan’s vibrant boxing scene—and beyond!