It’s 2013, and here we are watching Bernard Hopkins, the remarkable veteran, continue his long-standing journey in professional boxing. It’s been 25 years since Hopkins first made his debut in the ring, but is there still enthusiasm for seeing him fight? The seats at The Barclays Center in Brooklyn for his match against Cloud weren’t exactly filled, a lackluster turnout that failed to surprise anyone. After all, was this showdown something fans were clamoring for? It seemed like just another unasked-for installment in the never-ending chronicle of Bernard Hopkins.
Just imagine if this fight had materialized right after Hopkins brilliantly outmaneuvered Jean Pascal two years prior. That was a memorable display of not just skill but sheer mental prowess. Unfortunately, what followed were two disheartening bouts with Chad Dawson, laden with clinches and fouls, culminating in a conclusive defeat on points after which Hopkins hinted at retiring. But time passed, and suddenly Hopkins vs. Cloud was back on the agenda without any clear reason why. Considering all Hopkins had already achieved, did defeating Cloud really add anything to his legendary career?
Tavoris Cloud once appeared promising, until Gabriel Campillo uncovered his limitations—bravery and strength notwithstanding, he lacked savvy in the ring. This made him an ideal opponent for the seasoned Hopkins, whose knowledge of boxing far exceeded Cloud’s skills. The intrigue was all about whether Hopkins’ time in the limelight had finally reached its expiration. Would Cloud be able to push Hopkins to his limit, or deliver the kind of high-pressure offensive that Hopkins couldn’t handle?
The simple answer was “no.” Cloud perfectly suited Hopkins’ style, making way for the latter to execute his slow, controlled strategy with precision. What should have been an energetic battle turned into a sleepy affair, with Hopkins expertly utilizing clinches and counterattacks. Cloud seemed perplexed by Hopkins’ agility and experience, as if not expecting a moving target that could hit back.
Hopkins had his way for most of the match, taking rounds where Cloud relaxed his aggression, but never truly challenging the older fighter. By the fight’s midpoint, it was apparent that Hopkins had Cloud under his spell, coasting towards another decision victory that hardly boosted his own Hall of Fame stature or uplifted the boxing world. Yet again, this proved concerning—how is it possible for the sport if a 48-year-old easily overcame a supposedly top-tier opponent seventeen years his junior?
The spectacle was another testament to Hopkins’ almost mysterious capabilities. One couldn’t help but wonder what kind of magic he was summoning behind the scenes to mesmerize his younger adversaries into fighting cautiously instead of aggressively. Names like Pavlik, Pascal, Cloud, and even Dawson began showing Hopkins undue respect. Common sense suggested that any one of them could have gone all out for the win, exploiting Hopkins’ age and physical condition. But time and again, they fell prey to his aura, appearing to be intimidated by his reputation.
Following the fight, the discussion often gravitated towards Hopkins’ apparent timeless technique. But overcoming his game isn’t rocket science. Look back at other classics like Basilio vs. Robinson or Pryor vs. Arguello. The recipe was straightforward: keep the pressure on, attack the body, and don’t let up. Jermain Taylor managed this once upon a time, scraping out victories over Hopkins. Surely, years later, someone else could achieve the same feat.
The biggest takeaway from Hopkins vs. Cloud is that as long as Hopkins maintains his mystique—symbolized through the metaphorical practice of Santería and psychological warfare—opponents might feel as if facing an undefeatable force. Future victories against the likes of Karo Murat and Beibut Shumenov, though not thrilling, followed suit. Yet eventually, Sergey “Krusher” Kovalev brought that chapter to a dramatic close in 2014, overpowering Hopkins in his most decisive loss since Roy Jones Jr. triumphed over him. Once Kovalev’s hand was raised, the legend’s overdue retirement seemed inevitable, signaling the end of a storied era that had perhaps lingered a bit too long. – Michael Carbert
