The Technical Brilliance of Miguel Canto; a true all-time great by GEORGE CROWCROFT

Miguel Canto is arguably the greatest flyweight of all time. Well he is on my list, although that’s not to say he’s the greatest fighter to ever fight at flyweight, but pugilistic semantics is a kettle of fish which we won’t get into. El Maestro started his career off with a stoppage loss to Raul Hernandez. He was 21 years old and would lose by stoppage again, 6 months later. After his first nine fights, he’d hold a record of five wins, two losses and two draws before winning the Yucatan state title in his tenth fight. His third professional loss would be the final loss before his first title fight. In the interim, he’d score 25 wins and draw with Ignacio Espinal for a second time.

Canto would fight Venezuela’s Betulio Gonzalez for the vacant WBC title. The title was left vacant, after it was stripped from Erbito Salavarria for one of Boxing’s first PED cases. Alas, that’s a different story; what’s more important is that Canto would lose to Gonzalez on a majority decision in Venezuela. Sadly, there’s no footage available, but what we do know is that it was officially close. From that setback, Miguel would go on a 24 fight win streak, which is one of the best in boxing history. No hyperbole. Of those 24 fights, 14 would be title fights. Although it is always the names and not the numbers which I find more impressive. The names on Canto’s hit-list are as good as anyone’s. Especially in his division.

First up is Ignacio Espinal, who split a series with Betulio, drew with Canto and troubled him in the second fight. Canto would give him a rubber match where he would win clearly and prove himself the better man. His title winning effort was vs. Shoji Oguma – two-time flyweight champ, elite southpaw and coming off a win vs Betulio – and he would beat Chan-Hee Park thrice, a name I’m you’ll see again. Canto had a rematch with Gonzalez, in which Gonzalez considered himself robbed. However, this was also in Venezuela, and the judges unanimously saw it for Canto. The following year, in a third bout, Canto would put in one of the most beautiful performances I’ve ever seen, and win virtually every round to assert himself as the better man between the two.

After the first Gonzalez rematch, Canto took on Lupe Madera. This 9-3 fighter, weighing one hundred and eight pounds, may not look like much, but he’d go on to be a very worthy champion who’d beat Katsuo Tokashiki twice in some great fights. It’s just a nice, little titbit which shows how deep this run actually was. In this space between Gonzalez rematches, Canto also beat former champ, Susumu Hanagata. Hanagata enjoyed some nice wins over Chartchai Chionoi, Efren Torres, Masao Oba and was probably unlucky to never get a win over Erbito Salavarria, who he’d just troubled massively in his previous two fights. It’s fair to say he’d seen better days by the time he fought Canto, but also fair to say he was still operating at a very high-level. Another nice little win on Canto’s resume was over Kimio Furesawa who KO’d Shoji Oguma. Canto would also beat the classy Martin Vargas twice, Alfonso Lopez, undefeated Joey Olivo and Sugar Baby Rojas.

Against Tacomron Vibonchai, the Thai bantamweight champ and top five contender, Canto swallowed a gallon of blood. He beat the Thai convincingly and in the process he showed that he was never going to let that title go without a fight. In his final successful defence, he’d beat the colossal punching, danger man from 112lbs to 122, Antonio Avelar. Avelar would score wins over Oguma, Vasquez, Kim, Lopez and Gilberto Roman (via disqualification). He’d also win the title once Canto’s reign had ended.

Speaking of which, this was Canto’s last official win in a world title fight. He’d lose the title to South Korean, Chan-Hee Park; a name I said you’d see again. Park was a Canto nightmare. If there were a fighter hand made to beat an aging Canto, it was Park. He had short combinations, fast hands and an amazing work rate. His biggest weapon was his left hand, which was the main tool in taking Canto’s jab. This pondering and feinting really messed with El Maestro, and had him wondering what to do. Without his jab he was almost useless, offensively. The rematch however was a close, almost controversial affair. I, myself, have never found a copy of this fight, and I’ve looked, but I know people who have. So it’s out there. What’s most important to know is that Canto turned a wide loss to a draw; a draw I’ve read should’ve been a Canto win.

Not that it matters, it wasn’t a Canto win and Canto wouldn’t scratch the surface at world level again. In fact, he’d hardly ever fight again, retiring after eight more professional fights.

As a stylist, Miguel Canto was one of the most impressive little guys I’ve ever seen. And here’s why:

Stylistically, he’s toxic for guys who have to square up, so he’d make counter-punchers, brawlers and boxer-punchers look foolish. As a pure boxer, his natural stylistic weakness is to a high output, skilled swarmer. In my opinion, someone like Benny Lynch is perfect for him, whilst guys like Masahiko “Fighting” Harada and Chang Jung-Koo are more difficult for him.

El Maestro’s offence is hard to class in a single word as it was practically harmless at world level. He couldn’t crack an egg, and it was pretty strictly limited to one hand, yet it was so dynamic and cultured. A real joy to watch.

His key punch was definitely his jab; however it was more of a tool than a weapon. He’d pop it out consistently and set a pace with it. He would use it whilst turning to either catch an opponent off guard or not allow them to square up, forcing them to realign their centre of gravity. He’d also use it masterfully to dictate the range. His jab also served as an excellent set up for his next best punch, his lead hook. He’d throw picture perfect left hooks at any range and was, in my opinion, his main damage output/deterrent, especially when he chained them to the point of the chin and spin off to get one downstairs. Inside, he’d use it equally well and catch people whilst they were open. He could throw them moving backwards or forwards and they seemed to come out of nowhere.

His left hand was also used for more than punching; his feints were a thing of beauty. What impressed me most about them was that whilst he would pull them off to different levels (which are impressive in its own right) he blended both the arm movement and the head movement into his defence as a block/parry from the feint and used the level change as a bob and/or other forms of head-movement.

Another major part of his offence was his counters, which were immaculate. Since he had such an advanced defence, he had lots of openings to exploit. The ones he frequently found the mark with were his counter jab, which he’d use to outjab bigger guys, as well as popping them over missed left hooks, and his own left hooks which he’d like to snap under or over missed right hands.

Canto was also a technical master inside. His right hand was mostly used for collar ties, under hooks and over hooks, but he’d also pop rapid, short, right uppercuts. His holding doubled as a defence to the body. He’d sway from right to left to avoid his opponent’s offence and would use the motion to put more oomph into his hooks, upstairs and down. And not necessarily in that order.

His punch structure was as good as you could get. He’d throw minimalistic, tightly structured lead hooks at long/mid-range and threw similarly brilliant hooks up-close. These were short and snappy, and given the speed advantage he usually enjoyed, it made sure that he always got off first when knuckling down. Although scarcely used, he had an exquisitely straight, economic right hand that covered his chin and set up follow ups with his left, he turned into it as perfect as you can get, with absolutely no wasted room, time or energy expenditure.

Canto’s feet were easily his best asset, technically. When he was throwing his power(less) shots he’d be squared up and set perfectly to get the optimum shift and rotation, as well as being at the perfect distance. He’d also be able to throw hard jabs whilst moving due to the way he planted and shifted his weight and the angle he pointed his foot as he threw. He also got good snap on his hooks whilst moving from his pivots. He liked to use this to blend his defence with offence a little bit more, by adding a bob before he did this and slipping any counters whilst getting a free shot to the body. His positioning was excellent as well, he’d glide in and out of range for a few pot shots then turn off at an angle. He’d also use his feet to take power out of shots he’d turned into, by shifting his weight away from them. This also gave some extra leverage on a counter.

Canto’s movement was extraordinary, he’d bounce off the balls of his feet and keep his opponents guessing which direction he’d go once he’d go after a pause, he’d keep turning his opponents and have them constantly fighting at his preferred range, despite what most people tried. He often retreated to the ropes though, where he does some of his most impressive and entertaining work in my opinion.

Whilst working off the ropes, momentum was his best friend, he’d fall back onto them for some leverage and then counter or slip a punch, then fall back again to get more momentum and repeat, he would pepper his opponents all over. Whilst gliding on the ropes, he’d still use his full arsenal of defensive tricks and tactics. He would pull, parry and block shots whilst searching for fresh angles to lead from whilst simultaneously bouncing off the ropes like an aggressive yo-yo. Once he was cornered, or simply plain bored, he’d do similar tricks to Vasily Lomachenko and Willie Pep, by spinning his opponents whilst shuffling around them.

El Maestro had an Einstein level Ring IQ and it was evident. His ability to dictate what his opponents did is an obvious example, as is his tactic which I like to call his “punch radar”. And I’m not talking about reacting to punches as they came, I’m talking about his unusual ability to predict where a punch was going and block it before it was thrown! Sometimes (particularly in the Park fight) you can see the opponent start a punch then stop it when they see it’ll be ineffective.

Another example of his ring IQ is the very same Park fights, where he showed his ability to adjust and apply knowledge in a rematch; he also did this in the Gonzalez series. In the first (Park) fight, he’d try and box Park like he would a normal challenger, but was having immense issues with Park’s aggressive footwork, work rate and “Korean Stylist Left”. He tried to adapt to this, by fighting off the ropes more, which failed, then he adapted again after reverting back to boxing but made subtle changes in his defence. He started countering less and using his elbows more to block punches as well as bending at the waist more. He also started to stiff arm Park more which helped keep him off Canto. Canto’s makeshift solution to Park’s lead, was to jab and move the glove vertically and shoulder roll more. To be honest, it didn’t really nullify Park’s lead but did allow Canto to land more counters without being clipped so often.

In the rematch an old Canto would make the necessary corrections to duke out a draw.

Another example of Canto’s ring IQ is the fights with Oguma. The one filmed fight is a very close, tactical affair which showed his Canto could win a fight when he couldn’t jab well. As a southpaw, the jab is inherently not as useful vs. Oguma, as the age old problem of clashing lead hands and feet made Canto’s best punch almost obsolete. You’d think that Canto would have an idea of this going into the fight, but he tried to get his jab going in the early rounds (in tandem with his movement, which was more pronounced as he constantly turned to the southpaw’s right.) but this didn’t work and Oguma got to Canto more than most. Canto switched up his offence spectacularly and started stinging right hands into Oguma’s face when the Japanese fighter would pressure him. It was basically a complete style revamp mid-fight, but it worked perfectly and won him the fight.

His defensive minded trainer Jesus Rivero, also helped him develop his immaculate skills to the point of near perfection and almost certainly helped him adapt with his suggestions in the corner.

Canto was a tiny Wizard. His head-movement was excellent, and he managed to stop himself from moving into punches whilst slipping combinations and merge it with his offence, by hiding his attacks with movement. Another very impressive aspect of Canto’s head-movement is how it was perfectly in tune with his arms; he’d bob under a shot and then start to time the upcoming punches. Once they threw he’d have a counter waiting. Whilst slipping shots, at some point he’d twist at the waist and start parrying off his forearms and elbows and using his gloves to block hooks at range. Speaking of which! Canto’s blocks were punch perfect, his arms were always in position to let shots slide off his elbows, gloves and shoulders.

So whilst possessing some of the slickest head movement of all time, he often relied on blocking especially inside. He often slipped punches and stepped inside. Then he manoeuvred his head out of danger, with the tried-and-tested method of planting one’s head on their opponents’ shoulder. For his defence downstairs, he’d cross his arms over his mid-section and the glove over the chest; to protect himself further he’d turn his back to block punches from one side, effectively cutting someone’s offence in half. Given his tendency to block, and his class, he seriously started to fall back on riding shots out, whilst defending attacks; he’d pretty much be constantly moving his hips right to left to take the thud out of the shots.

Canto’s stiff arms were a major part of his defence and he would often win entire rounds, and even fights by controlling his opponents head. He’d keep turning them and thus meaning they had to reset themselves, meaning more time for Canto to move and repeat. Canto’s stiff arms would also be used whilst he had his back to the ropes and obscure his opponent’s vision whilst using his triceps and forearms to stifle or block incoming punches.

This is basically built up his use of the Mummy guard. A guard which George Foreman used and one which has been out of fashion for a very long time. A Mummy Guard is essentially the art of smothering shots as they were thrown, boxers like Ezzard Charles, Emile Griffith and George Foreman were masters of it.

What made Canto’s use of it special was that he layered them with his stiff-arms. As they broke the stiff-arm (got past it/closed the gap), he shortened his arms as the opponent moved in, and smothered their offence. He didn’t actually use these techniques much in other situations, but he used them stupendously when he did. Like most all-time great defences, a lot of it came down to reflexes, but Canto evidently decided to brush up technically rather than go the reflex-reliant route his idol, Willie Pep chose.

Canto’s co-ordination is, in my opinion, by far one of his greatest assets (his feet are his best technical asset in my opinion). By co-ordination I’m talking his accuracy, balance, distance judgement/management etc. That, along with his speed and reflexes, made him a force at flowing in and out of range and landing his quick sharp shots. His lovely blend of these attributes amplified his game more than anything, in my opinion, as it made him as elusive a target you could find in history. Hitting him clean twice was like trying to catch smoke.

As the old timers used to say: “You’re not going to hit him with a handful of rice.”