THE surest way to find yourself on the Missing Persons list in a sport like boxing is to become so good at your craft nobody wants to (a) fight you, or (b) watch you perform. Achieve this and you have reached not only the pinnacle of your profession but also, and perhaps without knowing it, condemned yourself to long periods of inactivity, during which inept promoters will tell the world: “Yeah, he’s good, but the thing is, nobody knows who he is.”
This thought returned to me last month in Las Vegas, where, as I watched Terence Crawford produce the performance of the
