Naoya Inoue got the job done in Riyadh, pitching a clean shutout over Alan Picasso. But the night wasn’t about dominance. It was about drift. Yes, the scores were wide at 120–108, 119–109, 117–111. Yes, Inoue made Picasso look like he’d never been in a world-class ring before. But for the second straight fight, “The Monster” went the full twelve. That detail matters now.
The performance
Inoue started cold. He waited on Picasso, hands low, reading rhythm instead of forcing pace. The jab was sharp, the combinations clean, the counters timed well. But the menace wasn’t there. Picasso never scared him, yet Inoue never fully hunted either. The fight shifted into management mode by round four.
Picasso, to his credit, came to box. He moved enough and kept his guard high. His feet betrayed him though. Straight lines, predictable exits. He touched Inoue just enough to survive, not enough to change anything. “He makes you think,” one Japanese trainer said after. “But great fighters don’t need to think that much.”
Inoue admitted afterward that he could have done more. That wasn’t false humility. It was fatigue speaking. The speed is still there. The sharpness too. But the bounce in his legs isn’t what it was three years ago. He’s 32, and he’s carried championship rounds on his back for a long time.
Two straight decisions tell their own story. First Akhmadaliev. Now Picasso. Neither forced him into danger, but both forced him to manage pace instead of dictate it. That’s the early sign. Not decline, but adjustment.
The Nakatani problem
Now the talk turns to Junto Nakatani. The fight everyone circles. Two Japanese stars. Two unbeaten champions. Two men who don’t need promotion to sell danger.
Nakatani brings length, a southpaw rhythm, and real engine. He throws in volume and doesn’t slow late. That matters. Inoue hasn’t faced that kind of sustained output since Donaire pushed him into deep water. If the timing slips even a fraction, Nakatani’s angles will find him.
That’s the risk. Not power. Tempo.
Nakatani doesn’t need to hurt him early. He just needs to keep touching him, keep him thinking, keep him working. That’s how you drain a great fighter without ever flooring him.
What this really exposed
This fight didn’t show decline. It showed limits. It showed what happens when a generational talent starts managing miles instead of chasing finishes.
Inoue is still the sharpest technician in the sport. His timing, balance, and accuracy are elite. But the edge now is in control, not explosion. That’s a shift you notice only when you’ve watched every round of his career.
If the Nakatani fight happens, it won’t be about belts. It’ll be about whether Inoue can still impose himself or whether he has to negotiate every minute. That’s the real test ahead.
He’s not slipping. But he’s no longer coasting either.