Mikaela Mayer rolled into Spencer’s backyard, put the crowd on mute, and left with three world titles stuffed in her carry-on. That’s WBA, WBC, and WBO super welterweight belts — all heading back to the States after she schooled Canada’s Mary Spencer at the Montreal Casino on Thursday night.
Judges had it 100-90, 98-92 twice, and that’s being generous. Mayer boxed her ears off. Spencer came to fight, yeah, but she couldn’t handle that constant jab — stiff, mean, snapping her head back like a PEZ dispenser. You could tell by round three who was running the show.
Mayer Looked Smaller But Fought Like the Boss
On paper, Mayer (22-2, 5 KOs) was the smaller woman. In the ring, she looked like she had fifty pounds of confidence and a chin full of granite. Pressed forward behind that jab, crouched low, ripped rights over the top, and didn’t take a backward step all night. Spencer (10-3, 6 KOs) looked lost at sea — all that movement, none of it doing her any good.
By round eight, Mayer had her on the ropes eating hooks. Ninth and tenth were pure domination — Spencer buzzed, clinging on, and the local crowd watching in silence. You could almost hear Mayer’s corner shouting over the dead air — total control.
Lipinets: Tough As Nails, But the Clock’s Ticking
Arthur Biyarslanov (20-0, 16 KOs) had himself a proper scrap with veteran Sergey Lipinets (18-5-1, 13 KOs), but make no mistake — the young lion ran it. Lipinets, tough old war dog, tried to drag it into a slugfest, lunging forward like he wanted to make it dirty. But Biyarslanov stayed slick, southpaw stance tight, using that jab like a paintbrush.
Lipinets had flashes, sure — clipped him clean a couple times, especially in rounds three and six — but that engine’s not the same. He’s been through wars, and it shows. You could see him thinking, timing shots he used to throw on instinct. The kid was just sharper, quicker, meaner.
Scores read 97-92, 99-90, 96-93. Bit wide, yeah, but you can’t argue the result. Lipinets gave it everything, just not enough. One of those nights where the old guard realises the new generation ain’t waiting for permission.
Mayer: Calm, Collected, Cold as You Like
After it all, Mayer didn’t talk trash. She didn’t need to. She spoke like someone who’s been through the ringer, learned the game, and came back wiser.
“Usually, I’m the taller fighter,” Mayer said. “But because I’m usually the taller fighter, I also know how to beat me. And it’s never good when you’re the taller fighter and you let the other fighter get underneath.”
That’s pure ring IQ. She knew what Spencer would try, flipped it, and bashed her up from the inside.
“That’s what we trained for,” she added. “You saw me towards the last three rounds really landing those big right and left hooks to the head. The most important thing is I have options. I came off two years where my career kind of took a left turn. So having options is definitely a blessing.”
She’s not just back — she’s got leverage now. Still the WBO champ at 147, and now sitting on a stack of belts at 154. Mayer’s cooking, and the rest of the division better start reading the recipe.
Look, Mayer’s no hype job. She’s one of the few pros who actually gets better after a loss. This was calm violence — smart, surgical, nasty when she needed to be. Spencer’s tough, no question, but this was a clinic.
As for Lipinets, man’s got pride and power, but Father Time doesn’t tap your shoulder — he punches your lungs. He fought like a throwback, but youth and movement beat him to the punch all night. No shame in it, just the truth.
Montreal crowd came to see their own — instead, they watched a Yank clean house and another vet fade under the lights. Boxing’s cruel like that, bruv. One minute you’re the main event, next you’re the name used to build the next guy’s résumé. That’s the fight game.