Most of us have heard the truism that a good boxer will usually beat a good fighter. Usually, perhaps, but definitely not always. Take Saturday’s IBF featherweight title fight in which Cristobal Cruz won a unanimous decision over Jorge Solis in Tuxtla Gutierrez, Chiapas, Mexico, televised on ESPN Deportes. Solis, from Guadalajara, was the better fighter in terms of talent but Cruz was often able to take him out of his stride with a swarming, rough-and-ready, two-handed attack.

It was only in the last two rounds that Solis was able to impose clear dominance, and by then it was too late.

There was something else to be considered. Cruz, although usually considered as being from Tijuana, was the local favourite, and I hadn’t realised the depth and passion of the support that he would receive. This was two Mexicans meeting, but Guadalajara’s Solis was booed as if he was a gringo from the north.

The atmosphere must have been intimidating for Solis. He was kept waiting in the ring while a spotlit character in a panther suit performed to a soundtrack of snarls, and then Cruz was preceded on his ring walk by two menacing individuals dressed in the style of those fearsome Mayan warriors in Apocalypto, the crowd roaring. I sensed that Cruz was looking on this as not just a boxing match, more of a two-man war, and that he was going to hurl everything he had at Solis and never stop attacking, no matter what came back at him. That is largely what happened.

In that seething atmosphere, with the crowd going wild every time Cruz landed a blow, it was going to be very difficult for Solis to win a decision because every close round was likely to be scored for the home fighter, for which the judges could not be blamed.

I thought that Solis had earned a draw, TV scorer Marco Antonio Barrera had him winning by three points, but it wasn’t a bad decision. In Guadalajara, Solis would almost certainly have had his hand raised. A fight like the one on Saturday, and bouts such as Bernard Dunne against Ricardo Cordoba in Dublin, Ricardo Torres against Kendall Holt in Colombia and Brian Viloria against Ulises Solis — Jorge’s brother — in Metro Manila, demonstrate the part that a fight’s location can play in the eventual outcome. A fighter, as long as he is suitably determined and motivated, can find inspiration and almost draw strength from the crowd’s backing.

Cruz’s headlong attack was difficult for Cruz to stave off. He wasn’t given room to establish his superior skills, and although he made some lovely moves to have Cruz going the wrong way he was never able to get any measure of control until the last two rounds.

It was a rough night for Solis in every sense, cut over the eyes from Cruz’s headfirst charges and thrown violently to the canvas, with referee Joseph Cooper gamely risking the crowd’s wrath to deduct two points from Cruz. Then it was Solis’s turn to lose points, for low blows. I am not sure whether two or three points were taken from Solis, and I will have to wait until I can request the master scoresheet from the IBF office.

I didn’t like the way that Cruz was milking the situation when he got hit low, but he is a crafty veteran and he probably thought: “I’ve had points taken — let’s get some back.”

Just when Solis seemed to be settling down, Cruz came storming back at him. In Britain they called old-time welterweight champ Ted “Kid” Lewis the “crashing, bashing, dashing Kid” and that was Cruz on Saturday — crashing, bashing, dashing.

Solis boxed as well as he could under the circumstances, and he closed out the contest in great style, rocking and hurting Cruz in the closing stages, but he needed a couple of rounds like that earlier in the fight. I felt sympathy for Solis, who obviously was convinced that he’d won. Solis was the better fighter in the textbook sense, no question, but in this place, at this time, it just wasn’t his night.