What became apparent early on was how firmly Brandon Figueroa controlled the interior. Despite standing 5’9″, Figueroa was the more effective fighter up close against the 5’2″ Ball, who leaned on him, pounded in volume and forced turnovers that Ball couldn’t slow down or recover from. The height difference gave Ball no room to work. This allowed Figueroa to push him and apply pressure in areas where Ball usually thrives.
Accumulated penalty
The pattern continued to take a toll as the rounds went by. Figueroa’s high output style has become a steady drain, similar to the approach he used against Joet Gonzalez, when he threw over 1,000 punches. He didn’t need that level of volume here. He threw and landed enough to consistently carry Ball over the rounds, making the finish feel like the end of a process rather than a sudden accident.
The severity of the punishment became inevitable in the closing sequence. On the first down, Ball went face down on the canvas and stayed there for a few moments, still enough to cause immediate concern. When the action resumed, there was no recovery or regaining of control
Figueroa jumped in and unloaded on a badly injured Ball, who offered no counters and little defense, before partially sending him down through the ropes again. What stood out was not the violence of the sequence, but the absence of resistance. The instincts that had always carried Ball through exchanges were no longer evident.
The punch stats back up why that concern exists. Ball landed 249 of 567 punches, a 43.9 percent connect rate that shows he stayed accurate and engaged. Figueroa landed 214 of 757 punches, just 28.3 percent accuracy, but the volume never stopped. He was willing to absorb shots to keep throwing, relying on pressure and repetition to erode Ball over time. Over twelve rounds, that approach took its toll.
Ball lost his WBA featherweight title in the 12th round at the M&S Bank Arena, and afterwards Figueroa’s trainer Manny Robles criticized the officiating, saying the referee “counted to 100” and calling it a terrible job. The frustration sounded less like a tactical complaint and more like disbelief at how much punishment was allowed to pile up before the fight was stopped.
That response highlights the larger issue. Fighters can recover from knockouts. What is more difficult to recover from is the kind of sustained, near punishment that takes away response, resistance, and agency before the end comes. Ball’s success has always been built on pressure, durability and relentlessness.
After a night like this, the question is not whether he can win another fight, but whether those attributes can still function in the same way, or whether the cost of absorbing so much damage has permanently changed the fighter he can be.
