The news that Vasiliy Lomachenko was retiring didn’t surprise me, even if it did sadden me. I’d actually have been more surprised if I was told he was nearing another fight.

At his peak – his skill set, in the context of the refined finesse and beauty of boxing – Lomachenko was as close to perfect as a boxer could be. The quality of his punches, the way he executed his shots, his footwork, defence and balance were like they were out of a textbook. 

Before him, the most recent fighter I can think of who was as fluid as Lomachenko is Pernell Whittaker. Salvador Sanchez may have been another who had that same technical perfection. He didn’t have “Sugar” Ray Robinson’s longevity, but he was similarly difficult to identify flaws in. 

His jab, right hand, left hand, and feints were so impressive, and, combined with the pace he was capable of setting, contributed so much to the intense pressure his opponents found themselves under. His run of victories, from Nicholas Walters in 2016 to Luke Campbell in 2019, is as impressive as any fighter in history – especially when it’s considered that he moved up to lightweight, beyond his natural weight division, in an attempt to match him in more competitive fights. During that period he was as good as any fighter who has lived.

On a personal level, the victory over Guillermo Rigondeaux was my favourite for him. But his best performance came when he dismantled the feared Walters, who thereafter was never the same. On both nights he showed the same artistry and accuracy that defined him at his very best. He was so good to watch that when I was working his corner on occasions like those, watching him in full flow was all I wanted to do. 

During my time working with him, I got to know a cerebral, deep-thinking, educated, and often introverted man. I remember one particularly lengthy and insightful conversation I had with him when we were in New York, on the eve of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. He, of course, was troubled, but at a time when I already thought I knew him well, he showed me another side to him when I listened to him speak. 

The tie I wore whenever I worked with him – or whenever I work with Oleksandr Usyk – in the colours of the Ukrainian flag was one of those he was given when representing his country in the Olympics. I watched him as a broadcaster at both the 2008 and 2012 Games. He gifted it to me after the first fight I wrapped his hands – the victory over Gamalier Rodriguez in 2015 – having noticed me wearing a tie in his corner, and I value it even more than I’d have valued a Rolex. 

He was very serious about boxing. In private he had a good sense of humour, and fishing was one of his passions, but the respectful man seen in public focused on getting down to business and then moving on to the next.

It saddens me that I’m struggling to think of such a celebrated fighter who received as little backing as Lomachenko. He lost three fights – two in very controversial circumstances – and didn’t get one rematch. I don’t believe he’s ever got the respect his talent and achievements deserved – and increasingly I think that’s not only because he had to move so far up in weight to really test himself, but because he was ahead of his time. 

For the fight with Salido in 2014, Salido didn’t even try to make weight – and their foul-filled fight was refereed so abysmally that Salido was able to repeatedly punch Lomachenko below the belt. 

He defended his lightweight titles against Teofimo Lopez in 2020 but didn’t get a rematch clause when so many other fighters receive rematches they’re much less worthy of for that very reason.

Devin Haney made weight when they fought in 2023, but as the much bigger man he also had the considerable advantage of a ceremonial weigh-in, which meant him having 36 hours to rehydrate to well over 135lbs by the time they made their way to the ring the following evening. The judges’ scores that night were then every bit as questionable – it felt like the entire world said he was robbed – and again a rematch didn’t follow. In the moment when I saw him in tears in his post-fight dressing room, I hated boxing. 

He fought once after that, against George Kambosos Jnr in Australia in 2024, when he won via stoppage. Too few of the very best end their careers after a worthwhile victory – in retiring when he has, Lomachenko will always have that, and it can never be taken away from him. 

He’s a generational talent – one who challenged for a world title in his second fight, won one in his third, and fought for world titles in nearly all of his remaining 17 contests – and he went out on his terms.

Sanchez; Henry Armstrong; Sandy Saddler; Willie Pep; Alexis Arguello; Julio Cesar Chavez; Floyd Mayweather; Manny Pacquiao. You can add Lomachenko’s name to the list of the greatest featherweights and super featherweights in history.

I will likely never see such greatness up close again. Working with him has been an honour and a privilege.

Russ Anber is the founder/CEO of Rival Boxing, as well as a highly respected trainer (of both pros and amateurs), a gym owner, a cut-man, an entrepreneur, a broadcaster and one of the best hand wrappers in the boxing business. Oleksandr Usyk, Callum Smith, Janibek Alimkhanuly and Bakhram Murtazaliev are among the many top boxers Russ works with.