Hrgovic survived Itauma’s most dangerous attacks, forced him to keep working, and watched the younger fighter gradually empty his fuel tank. Itauma threw with maximum force far too often, failing to conserve enough energy for the second half. Once exhaustion took over, his speed, defense, and judgment disappeared together.
Some fighters are constructed for short, violent fights. Their muscles consume energy rapidly. The explosive style that makes them dangerous early becomes a liability later. Training may help Itauma distribute his effort, but it cannot guarantee that he will become a strong 12-round heavyweight.
That leaves his promoters with an uncomfortable choice. A durable opponent such as Guido Vianello would force Itauma to manage his punches, staying defensively responsible after the early rounds. It would also bring the danger of Itauma fading again if his conditioning has not changed. Matching him against someone durable like Vianello or even a disciplined operator who refuses to fold early carries real danger, but it is the only way to find out if his engine can actually be overhauled.
Postponing that reality check just guarantees that the next world-class heavyweight he faces will wait out the early blitz and do the exact same thing Hrgovic did. His team may instead select someone vulnerable enough to be removed before the questions begin. That approach can repair his record and confidence, but it only postpones the test.
Itauma does not need another opponent who makes his power look frightening. Everyone already knows he can punch. He needs someone who absorbs the early attack, makes him think, and forces him to operate while tired.
The danger is substantial, but avoiding it will not make the weakness disappear. Until Itauma succeeds against a heavyweight who takes him deep, every future title push will carry the fear that he remains a six-round fighter trapped in a 12-round division.
When a blue-chip asset gets stopped like that, the standard promotional playbook kicks in immediately: dial back the competition, find an overmatched veteran with a recognizable name who folds under fire, and stage a highlight-reel knockout within three rounds. It restores the illusion, protects the commercial investment, and buys time to rebuild the house of cards.
That approach solves nothing. Itauma spent his development feasting on sacrificial targets like Demsey McKean, Mariusz Wach, and a completely washed Dillian Whyte. None of those matchups forced him to respect return fire, set a sustainable pace, or solve problems past nine minutes. The moment he ran into Hrgovic, a seasoned professional who could absorb an explosive early flurry without disintegrating, the lack of mileage caught up to him.
Should Queensberry gamble? Absolutely. If Itauma is truly 21 with ambitions of ruling the division, he needs rounds under pressure, not soft touches. Feeding him another stationary target only reinforces the bad habits that doomed him against Hrgovic: swinging for the fences with every shot, neglecting the jab, and burning out his gas tank before the second half even starts.
