Terence Crawford is a great fighter. There’s no debate about that anymore. Over the last decade and more, Crawford developed, improved and rose to the occasion, as great fighters do. He’s 37, and there’s nothing left to prove in that regard.

Most boxing stories emphasize how greatness doesn’t happen spontaneously. It’s a path that requires time and vision. In 2006, when he was only 18 and two years from turning professional, Crawford’s remarks to local Omaha reporters are virtually the same as his words now in 2025.

“I love getting in the ring with another fighter and testing my skills,” Crawford said then. “I can slug it out or I can outbox you. I don’t mind mixing it up at all.”

That was the year Crawford defeated future world champions Danny Garcia and Mikey Garcia. His words were true then and they’re true now.

Perhaps more than anything, consistency is what propels a fighter toward greatness. Everyone sees the in-ring achievements and results, but only one person is there for every punch thrown and absorbed in the gym, every sit-up, every grunt from being crushed with a medicine ball, every grain of self-doubt. Consistently seeing beyond the pain and annoyance and doing it nonetheless is what separates champions from great fighters, and great fighters from legends.

Crawford started boxing in the Carl Washington Boxing Gym in Omaha, Nebraska, under the watchful eye of local hero Midge Minor. Crawford’s dad Terence Sr., boxed in Minor’s gym, and his grandfather was said to be a Midwest amateur champion. The younger Crawford found wrestling first, but he left it for boxing in his teens and made his own name before long.

Another nod to consistency is Crawford’s fighter-trainer relationship with Brian “Bomac” McIntyre, going on its 18th year. McIntyre’s stable doesn’t have the depth of a Kronk Gym or 5th St. Gym, yet he still provides the guiding hand to one of boxing’s best fighters that nearly all great fighters before Crawford have required. Whereas some fighters may thrive on chaos and change, the stability of the same corner and the same expectations is a boon to most, representing the power of a solid team in an individual sport. That team guided Crawford to 41-0.

An unbeaten ledger is one of the most confusing concepts in boxing in the sense that it’s both worthless and priceless. Many of the crustiest old-timey fight trainers would dismiss an undefeated fighter’s record outright, because to them it meant that fighter had never dealt with adversity. To promoters and managers, staving off losses is good business. Frankly, it's also facing the reality of today’s sport.

In other boxing eras, fighters generally weren’t fighting multiple times a month for the thrill of it or because of their love for fighting. It was out of necessity as purses came directly from the gate. Eventually television and advertising brought different money, TV dates fluctuated in scarcity, purses at the top eventually soared and overall fighter activity plummeted. But if the ideal is to absorb as little punishment as possible while making as much money as possible, it’s a good time to be an elite fighter.

Where that leaves modern fighters, however, is in a position where there isn’t enough time in the day for their activity to catch up to that of fighters who ended their careers with 100, 200 and sometimes even 300 professional fights. It’s not a skill, talent or quality issue. They were simply born into the wrong era.

Crawford not only isn’t immune to this problem, but his average of one fight per year in the last five years puts him at ground zero. Even Canelo Alvarez, who isn’t the busiest fighter himself, has more than doubled Crawford’s outings at 11.

That also means Crawford condensed an impressive variety of accomplishments into 19 title fights. He traveled abroad to win his first world title before returning to establish that Omaha would magically transform into a fight town for its native son. Then he collected the scattered belts at junior welterweight, becoming only the third fighter to hold all four major sanctioning organization belts before doing the same at welterweight. Until his win over Errol Spence in 2023, the only thing missing was a signature victory.

The confusing title situation at junior middleweight means Crawford’s win over Israil Madrimov is complicated, but at worst it adds a bit of flavor to his record. For now, it's impossible to know whether Crawford will ever return to defend the title.

And though it may be at least partially of his own doing, Crawford did it the hard way. He battled promotional odds and first became a champion in the defending champ’s hometown, then had to demand for opportunities he’d clearly already earned. But again he stayed consistent, motivating himself for opponents who might have lulled lesser fighters into a surprise defeat.

Crawford is one of the greatest fighters of his generation already. He made up for a résumé lacking in big names by mowing through anyone else he could get his paws on.

Terence Crawford is facing more than just Alvarez on Saturday at Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas, sure. Every fighter stares down their eventual fate in a big fight. But Crawford verges on tabbing spectacular victory, one in which he moves up to slay the proverbial giant, before retiring an unvanquished multi-division undisputed world champion.

Should Crawford be victorious, Valhalla and Canastota may as well be one and the same. And if Crawford manages to retire undefeated and in control of his health and his own destiny, that will be worth more than any all-time ranking or consideration.