Floyd "Money" Mayweather retained his WBC Welterweight title on Saturday, unleashing a dominant display on challenger Robert Guerrero.
Neither fighter knocked down his opponent, but Floyd was a clear cut above the entire evening, earning every part of his unanimous 117-111 victory.
It's hard to quantify what makes Mayweather so good. Sometimes it's best just to say "Welp. That's Floyd." That being said, there were definitely some tangible factors that helped him win so convincingly on Saturday.
Here are three of the biggest:
Robert Guerrero calls himself "Ghost," which on Sunday was fitting, because it looked like that's what he was swinging at.
Even at age 36, even fighting for the first time in a year and even coming off a two-month stint in jail, Mayweather flashed his trademark elusiveness at the MGM Grand on May Day. He bobbed and weaved and weaved and bobbed his way around the ring, eluding hook after hook from Ghost's left hand.
Guerrero did a good job, at least in the early rounds, pinning Mayweather into corners. But he was woefully unable to capitalize. Every punch he threw was dipped and ducked away from, Mayweather slipping away like an eel, then setting back up with room to maneuver.
Mayweather lives by the motto "the less you get hit, the longer you last." It's guided him this far—to the point where he looks good as new at the age of 36—and despite occasional pundit reservations, it seems like it might guide him even longer.
But you don't need to hear that from me. The stats can do the talking:
Guerrero connected on 19 percent of his punches.
Mayweather's Right Jab
Mayweather has never been a power puncher, and on Saturday night, he stuck to his bread and butter: swift, vicious precision punches.
The right jab, in particular, became the bane of Guerrero's evening. Every time Ghost left the door open with a missed punch, Mayweather's right knuckle came back into his face. It happened in non-counter situations too, where Floyd's lightning-quick movements were too fast for any pretense of a block.
And that was particularly killer. Guerrero is reputed as a high-profile puncher, so to see him leave himself open was hardly a surprise. He thought he could win in spite of that, and frequently has in his career.
But the straight-standing jabs were not part of his game plan. At least not in that amount. The straight-arm jab to his nose was too much for Guerrero to handle and a big part of Mayweather's victory.
For his part, Guerrero did the best he could to avoid the jitters. This was by far the biggest fight of his career, and he was going against a showboat who spent weeks upon months trying to goad him.
But you could see that the adrenaline got to him. He came out aggressive to a fault in the early rounds, throwing big, sweeping punches and refusing to save any gas in the tank. Come the middle and later rounds, it was clear he was drained, and the precise moves of Mayweather are the last thing a tired person wants to see.
Mayweather, on the other hand, was his usual, patient self—content to watch Guerrero get tired, so long as he wasn't getting hit. His incredible (albeit unorthodox) footwork helped him avoid too much beating in the early go, and as the fight wore on, his superior stamina was clear.
Mayweather conserved energy like a guy who's been there before. Guerrero spent it all like a guy who never had.