The moments where Toney’s skills appeared effortless and uncanny overshadowed, or perhaps simply hid the stretches where he couldn’t maintain any semblance of consistency. For a time, he wandered on a winding path.

Toney’s athletic ability took him from star high school football player to one of the best amateur fighters in late 1980s Michigan. He turned professional in 1988 and struggled with the 160-pound limit as he barely tapped the “fringe contender” level over the next three years. The boxing world ached for a middleweight star, but on paper that star was Michael Nunn, not James Toney.

The “Four Kings” of the 1980s – Sugar Ray Leonard, Marvelous Marvin Hagler, Thomas Hearns and Roberto Durán – set every division from welterweight to middleweight ablaze with excitement and high-profile fights throughout the decade. Leonard and Hagler retired, Hearns moved north of middleweight, and Duran was active but not a title threat in the '90s. Nunn was one of the fighters who ended up with one of Hagler’s old titles.

Not many called Nunn “the next Sugar Ray Leonard,” but a few in boxing did. Any comparison like that is always both gift and curse, and even worse in this case as Leonard actually issued empty threats to return from another retirement and face Nunn at a few points. But Nunn wasn’t just good; he was one of boxing’s best fighters, pound for pound. In the first two years of The Ring’s annual pound-for-pound ratings, 1989 and 1990, Nunn found his way into the top four.

From the time Toney joined the pros until the time he was paired with Nunn on May 10, 1991, he fought 26 times, and Nunn only five. The disparity in activity was outdone by the gap in quality, however: The best fighter on Toney’s ledger was tough, albeit limited Merqui Sosa, while Nunn defended the IBF middleweight title against Juan Domingo Roldan, Sumbu Kalambay, Iran Barkley, Marlon Starling, and Donald Curry.

An embittered split from promoter Dan Goossen plagued Nunn along the way, as did nagging criticism of his jab-heavy southpaw style. His “KO of the Year” over Kalambay only bought him so much goodwill, and he burned through it by struggling to win close decisions over Barkley and Starling. Charges stemming from multiple physical altercations also distracted Nunn from the sport even though he hired famed trainer Angelo Dundee.

Despite concerns, oddsmakers will almost always side with a known quantity, though that’s when the sports book actually cares to take bets on a fight. Sometimes there’s just no action on a fight, or so little it falls off their radar entirely. Such was the case for Nunn in his attempt to defend against Toney, the IBF’s No. 4 contender.

A few newspapers just labeled Toney an underdog, but Nunn’s old trainer Joe Goossen, who also called the fight for TVKO, said: “The odds are like 20-1 in [Las] Vegas, so most people are picking Nunn.”

Toney’s storied skills were still in development, as was his notoriously cantankerous disposition. In his fight immediately before the Nunn bout, Toney nearly fought Alberto Gonzalez at the weigh-in and the Nevada commission threatened him with a fine. He and Nunn almost scuffled a few times after Toney threatened to kill the champion in front of his own hometown fans, and the two had to be separated when Nunn put his fist on Toney’s chin at the weigh-in.

When Nunn was asked why he decided to return to the Quad Cities region and fight at home for the first time in almost five years, he said: “I remember when I didn’t have nothing, didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Now, I’m a millionaire, but when I didn’t have anything, these people [in Davenport, Iowa] stayed with me.”

Not one expert or pundit on record picked Toney, who legitimately tried to fight Nunn in the lobby of the Blackhawk Hotel. Many fighters may have blown their energy trying to goad an opponent into a pre-fight brawl. Not Toney, though. He lived off those moments.

“The champion was boxing in his typical brilliant-but-boring style,” said one magazine of the first portion of Toney-Nunn. For rounds on end, it appeared as though Toney fell into the trap of allowing his anger to guide him gently and deliberately around the ring after Nunn, who jabbed and shifted in his awkward southpaw procedures, easily banking points. Toney also continued his assault after the bell in several rounds.

Toney’s trainer, Bill Miller, an old ex-fighter who trained a number of top Michigan battlers, told his fighter to hold fast against Nunn. Keep the pressure on and stop following him. “He’s tired, he’s breathing like a freight train,” Toney said in response after round 5.

In round 7, Nunn connected on a hard series of punches, and Toney replied by dropping his gloves and taunting the champion. After the round, Miller implored Toney to make it a brawl, telling him it was the only way he could turn things around. So Toney went after Nunn in the 8th, physically shoving the champion into the ropes and forearming his throat. Nunn retreated in round 9, and found himself eating Toney’s right hand in round 10. Suddenly, Nunn looked like a weakening fighter, but time was running out.

Between rounds, Angelo Dundee said: “Don’t get sloppy on me. And don’t go reaching.”

Just past the halfway point of round 11, Toney pulled off a trick of his own. Nunn made the mistake of standing in range for a moment too long and ate a glancing right hand, but the right hand had Toney’s feet misaligned. The solution: a switch-hand shift that has been named after dozens of fighters through history, and a monster overhand left. Nunn went crashing to the canvas and barely made the count at nine.

Nunn was probably in no shape to continue, and when Toney attacked, the champion fell into the ropes face-first before absorbing a punch to the back of his head. Another right hand sent Nunn down again, and the fight was quickly stopped.

An exhausted Toney collapsed into his team’s arms as Nunn’s team carefully explained to the dazed fighter what exactly just happened.

Post-fight comments from the fighters were standard fare, but Nunn’s old team of promoter Dan Goossen and trainer Joe Goossen expressed sadness in a moment often used to plunge a knife deep into a wounded old charge and give it a twist. “I am shocked. I feel for Michael right now,” the trainer said.

Describing a fight as a “crossroads” match implies one or both fighters is traveling on something akin to a straight line in terms of career trajectory. Toney and Nunn’s paths diverged from their one and only fight, but their careers both had plenty of zigs and zags afterward. Legal run-ins and poor training habits limited the potential of both fighters for much of the 90s, which says plenty considering they both still won titles in a new division.

Whether karma, happenstance or destiny, the main difference between Nunn and Toney was the late-career surge “Lights Out” pushed through in the 2000s while Nunn served time in prison for bad decisions that caught up to him.

In 2005, Toney’s own mistakes prevented him from joining nemesis Roy Jones, Jr. as a former middleweight champion who won a world title at heavyweight when a positive PED test erased a win over WBA champion John Ruiz. It complicated his legacy, but nullified nothing. Toney was at home in a pro boxing ring from 1988 to 2017, or long enough to see what a real fighter was like.