BETTER than Jeff Fenech, more comprehensive than Kostya Tszyu. When Vic Darchinyan finally hangs up the gloves, he will be recognised as the greatest pugilist ever to fight for Australia.
It's not that he will next target Fenech's record of winning world titles in three separate weight divisions, nor his penchant for producing his best performances on the biggest stages - as did Tszyu.
Darchinyan is a once-in-a-generation fighting machine who glides above the other two because he has the hunger of one and the smarts of the other. Power - unmatched. Defence - improves with every outing. Will - insurmountable.
Having defended his three super-flyweight world titles at the weekend against Mexican warrior Jorge Arce, Darchinyan turns his attention to the next division, bantamweight. At present the man most likely to come across Darchinyan in the ring is Mexico's Fernando Montiel (38-2-1), a household name in the United States who holds the WBO super-flyweight title, but is also moving up in weight.
Darchinyan (32-1-1, 26KO) will fight in May and while he has been approached to stage the bout in Australia, he prefers to ply his trade in the States where, he says, "Boxing is the No.1 sport, not like here where it is not even top 10".
Darchinyan's swagger against Arce was astounding.
Arce takes a backward step for nobody, but as soon as the bell rang for round one and Darchinyan feinted a lunge, he was retreating. Counter-punching became the aim but there was too little hitting and too much jaw-juggling on Darchinyan's gloves, resulting in a stoppage between the 11th and 12th rounds courtesy of a concerned ringside doctor.
When Arce stopped Darchinyan's former stablemate, Hussein Hussein, in Las Vegas in 2005, he ate five punches to give 10 back. Against Darchinyan he went into his shell, trading sporadically but defining himself purely through a sheer will not to sit on the canvas.
He received some of the heaviest blows imaginable for men who weigh in at just over 50 kilograms, yet refused to drop even when blood began streaming from inside one ear. Arce had not been stopped in 12 years and yet here he was merely a punching bag, so unused to buckling his knees that it was memory alone that kept him standing.
"I came to fight," Arce said. "I wanted to continue to fight. I am a puncher, and I had a puncher's chance. There was only one round left, and I was following him the whole fight. He's a good fighter, but I think it was a competitive fight."
No, it was a blowout.
Tszyu was a technician to the point of being scientific, breaking through opponents' weaknesses with ruthless efficiency and changing styles mid fight if necessary. Darchinyan, on the other hand, is less patient. If his plan is not working he will continue to pound the other man until the desired result is achieved.
And therein lies the appeal. When Darchinyan fights, never is it more evident that here is a man attempting to break another's will while showing unquestionable loyalty to his own. He is convinced that he wants to hit harder and more often - and win - more than his opponent.
Big punchers in his division now fear his punch. He has stopped three former world champions in succession in the lighter weight divisions, a feat as difficult as winning three successive Melbourne Cups.
"I think I've got to be in the top 10 pound-for-pound, but I don't want to be only in the top 10, I want to be closer to No.1," Darchinyan said.
He plans three fights this year, realising he has hit his peak. He will ride the wave because he has seen from Fenech and Tszyu that it comes crashing down heavily.
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