Verhoeven was not dominated. That is the starting point for everything that follows. He was active in the early rounds, gave Usyk legitimate physical problems with his size and reach, and had moments through the middle of the fight where he was not merely surviving — he was competing. Usyk adapted, worked the body as projected, and began to take over in rounds eight and nine. But Verhoeven was still in it in round eleven. On his feet. Not stopped by Usyk's combinations. On the scorecards of multiple judges, ahead.

At 2:59 of round eleven, referee Mark Lyson stepped in. He stopped the fight. It is now a TKO11 in Usyk's professional record and on every official document the WBC, WBA, and IBF will ever produce. What it is not is a clean conclusion to a clean performance.

The Dubois I low blow ruling lives in this sport's memory. Lyson's stoppage of Verhoeven in a round Verhoeven was winning joins it. Two fights. Two referees. Two decisions that went Usyk's way when the scorecards suggested they shouldn't have. This publication is keeping count.

The pre-fight analysis held in substance: Usyk worked the body, he was methodical, he took over in the second half. The call was TKO Rd. 9 — the finish came two rounds later under circumstances that change the meaning of the result entirely. This publication called the method correctly and the round incorrectly. What we could not have called is how it ended.

Usyk entered this fight at #2 on this publication's P4P list. He leaves it at #4. The drop was decided before the final bell — the Dubois I cloud and tonight's stoppage combined to narrow the gap between him and the fighters above. A further drop was considered. His body of work is too significant for that to be honest analysis — the wins over Joshua twice, Fury, and Dubois represent a heavier résumé than anyone else in the heavyweight division has built in this era. Dropping him out of the top five on the basis of a controversial stoppage against a kickboxer would be its own distortion. He is at #4. The result stands. The question doesn't go away.

This card was Oleksandr Usyk's mandatory defense. It was also Hamzah Sheeraz's coming-out party. Turki Alalshikh did not put Sheeraz on this stage by accident — he put him here because he believes he is looking at one of the next faces of the sport, and the Pyramids of Giza with the whole world watching was the moment to say it out loud.

It almost didn't go that way. Begic had been stopped exactly zero times in 30 professional fights. A points win over a 39-year-old on a pay-per-view undercard does not rebuild a narrative — it buries it. Sheeraz needed the stoppage. For seven rounds of analytical build-up, the question was whether Begic's durability would survive long enough to turn this showcase into a grind. It didn't survive round two.

The body shot landed clean and Begic went down in a way that made clear he was not getting up. The man who had absorbed everything professional boxing threw at him for 30 fights was stopped by a 26-year-old who now holds a world title and the full backing of the most powerful promoter in the sport. The pre-fight call was Sheeraz on the scorecards — the program explicitly noted Begic's durability as the primary reason. The call was wrong on method. The result was better than the call.

Sheeraz has the tools, the platform, and now the title. What happens next — who Turki puts in front of him, how he performs against top-ranked opposition — is the most interesting promotional story in boxing right now. The coming-out party worked.

Jack Catterall has been trying to become a world champion since Josh Taylor took something from him in 2022 that the scorecards said he'd earned. Four years later, he left Egypt with the WBA Regular welterweight title after what every judge on every scorecard called a dominant performance.

He set the tone in round one — southpaw left cross, Giyasov on the canvas, shaky legs making it back to his feet before the bell. The pre-fight call said "this is not a shutout." The final scores — 119-108 and 118-109 on two of three cards — say otherwise. Catterall outworked him completely: 219 punches landed versus Giyasov's 78. He controlled distance with his jab, picked Giyasov apart with counters, and made an undefeated Uzbek Olympic silver medalist look like a man who had never faced a fighter at this level.

Giyasov came in with a compelling story and a mandatory shot that was years overdue. He fought with determination through 12 rounds and gave the crowd some moments. But Catterall had the answers every time Giyasov pressed. The WBA Regular welterweight title is his. What comes next depends on who emerges from the division — and whether a unification fight materializes at 147.

The pre-fight call was Sanchez by decision if the fight went the distance — and explicitly noted that if it ended before round nine, the call was wrong. It ended at 0:55 of round two. Sanchez was right on the winner and catastrophically wrong on the timeline.

Frank Sanchez countered a crouching Torrez Jr. with a perfect right uppercut in round two. Torrez went down hard, tried to make it to his feet, and went down again. Referee Albert Brown counted ten at 0:55. It was the first professional loss of Torrez's career — the man with 12 stoppages in 14 fights, an Olympic silver medal, and every expectation of being the next elite American heavyweight name found out what happens when the Cuban jab-and-move blueprint is executed by a fighter with legitimate power at this level.

Sanchez is now the IBF mandatory challenger. He immediately called out Usyk. Whether that fight happens or whether Sanchez is handed a name lower on the ladder, the five-month training camp version of Frank Sanchez is a problem for this division.