A four-division great jumped two weight classes, beat the sport’s biggest box-office star, and became boxing’s first three-division undisputed champion of the four-belt era. That’s not marketing hyperbole. That’s what happened in Las Vegas on September 13, 2025, when Terence Crawford outboxed Canelo Álvarez at Allegiant Stadium in a blockbuster billed as “Once In A Lifetime.” Streamed worldwide on Netflix, the night wasn’t just a superfight. It was a pivot point for the sport.
Canelo vs Crawford had real stakes that matched the hype. Álvarez walked in as the undisputed super middleweight champion, the man who cleaned out 168 and sold out arenas from Mexico to the UK. Crawford, already a four-division titleholder and the rare champion who went undisputed at both 140 and 147 pounds, moved up two full divisions to chase something no one had done before in the four-belt era: undisputed in a third weight class.
The scale wasn’t the only hill Crawford had to climb. Canelo has made a career of walking down sharpshooters. He’s a patient counterpuncher with heavy hands, especially to the body, and he punishes mistakes. If you linger in the pocket, he makes you pay. Crawford, though, didn’t linger. He took the center when it mattered, then he took it away when he needed to reset, constantly changing the distance and the angles.
From the opening rounds, Crawford’s speed and timing showed up. He used the lead hand like a steering wheel, picked spots for the right hand, and slipped off the line as Canelo fired back. He mixed orthodox and southpaw stances to change the reads, and he never let exchanges extend long enough for Canelo to set his feet. When Álvarez ramped up pressure, Crawford answered with quick two- and three-punch counters, then exited on angles to avoid the return fire. It was classic Crawford: calm, calculating, and cold-blooded in the big moments.
The middle frames were Canelo’s best window. He got closer, forced Crawford to defend along the ropes, and dug to the body with heavy hooks. But even there, Crawford banked time and information. He smothered when he had to, tied up at smart moments, and won the foot positioning battle. When Canelo looked close to a breakthrough, Crawford snapped back with clean counters that stole momentum and the optics of the round.
Over 12 tense rounds, Crawford controlled more of the terms. The judges saw it the same way, handing him a unanimous decision in a fight that rewarded craft as much as courage. No knockdowns, no reckless brawling—just high-level problem-solving and the kind of composure that separates great from all-time.
The result reshapes the record books. Crawford was already in rare company after dismantling Errol Spence Jr. in 2023 to unify the welterweight division. On this night, he went beyond rare. He joined a tiny group—think Naoya Inoue at 118 and 122, Oleksandr Usyk at cruiserweight and heavyweight—who’ve unified multiple divisions, and then he broke through it by becoming the first to do it in three. That’s legacy with exclamation points.
For Canelo, the loss doesn’t erase a thing. He took the kind of risk that defines eras. He’s built a career on fighting whoever fans said he wouldn’t: Golovkin three times, a move to 175 against Dmitry Bivol, unifying 168. He walked into another extremely hard fight because that’s the only way to keep a crown that means something. Afterward he made the point plainly: taking risks is what great champions do. The result stings; the ambition still counts.
The event mattered for more than the belts. This was the first major show from Zuffa Boxing under TKO Group Holdings, with the production muscle you’d expect from the UFC/WWE universe. The week ran like a festival—undercards at the Fontainebleau on September 10 and 11, big-stage walkouts at Allegiant Stadium, and a broadcast built for a global streaming audience. Netflix’s involvement pushed the fight to phones and living rooms in markets where pay-per-view is either niche or nonexistent. That shift—premium boxing on a mass streaming platform—may outlast any single result from Saturday night.
There was also a nod to tradition. The Ring’s role and the presence of power brokers around the sport gave the event old-school gravitas, which balanced the tech-forward delivery. Boxing often gets trapped between nostalgia and reinvention. This show tried to bridge that gap: big belts, a big stadium, and a broadcast aimed at viewers who might be tuning into their first boxing match.
The undercard had bite. Christian M’Billi and Lester Martinez fought to a draw for the WBC interim super middleweight title in a bruising 10-rounder that felt like a crossroads clash. Nobody blinked, and the stalemate leaves the interim picture murky at 168. In the co-main, Callum Walsh moved to 15-0 by outpointing Fernando Vargas Jr., the sort of step-forward win a prospect needs before headlining on his own. Both results feed directly into future matchmaking at super middleweight and junior middleweight, and they gave the main event a proper runway.
Back to Crawford: the what-now is tricky and fascinating. If he stays at 168, he faces a row of big men with big engines and bigger ambitions. Names like David Benavidez and David Morrell Jr. loom, both younger natural super middleweights who bring pressure and power. If he vacates or shuffles belts, he has to weigh the trade-off between legacy defenses and freedom to pick the biggest events. And then there’s the simple question fans always ask first—do we run it back? A rematch with Canelo would still be one of the richest fights the sport can make, and the chess match has plenty of chapters left to write.
For Canelo, decision time is coming too. Does he push for the rematch immediately, banking on adjustments and the kind of mid-fight tweaks that turned his rivalries before? Or does he pursue another path at 168, where mandatory challengers and marquee names can keep him in the spotlight while he recalibrates? Whatever route he chooses, his seat at boxing’s top table is still reserved. One loss to a generational technician who just made history doesn’t change that.
Sport-wide, the night raised a bigger possibility. If streaming platforms keep backing stadium-scale fights, the old barriers—the fractured TV deals, the hard borders between promoters, the dead-end mandatories—could start to move. Fans don’t care who signed which network deal; they care that a fighter like Crawford can go up two divisions and face a champion like Canelo without spending years stuck in boardrooms. Saturday showed there’s an appetite for the best fighting the best on a stage everyone can actually watch.
It’s easy to forget how rare nights like this are because social media gives us a daily highlight reel. But a champion daring up two weight classes to dethrone an undisputed king, in a football stadium, on a global stream, with the industry’s power players all-in—that’s not routine. That’s the kind of night people reference ten years from now when they’re arguing over pound-for-pound lists and what “greatness” really means.
“Once In A Lifetime” promised a lot. It delivered a result that lives up to the tagline—and left boxing with new storylines, new power maps, and a new standard for what a modern mega-event can look like.
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