“65 to 0: the day Canelo touched the legend and together they sowed the future of Mexican boxing”

The echo of the cheers still rumbled in the halls of the T-Mobile Arena while the last fans were excited, speaking in a hurry about the feat they had just witnessed. Saúl “Canelo” Álvarez, at 34, had just achieved his 65th victory as a professional, matching the exact figure that marked the golden age of Julio César Chávez before his first defeat.

But far from the cameras, the real fight was in silence. In a section section, the Tapatío champion sat alone in front of a mirror. His bandaged hands rested on his knees, and on a small table by his side, a white envelope expected for twelve years. Inside, a letter written after its defeat against Mayweather in 2013. A letter that was not for the media or for fans. It was for his idol.

Minutes later, a gentle blow to the door interrupted introspection. Eddie Reynoso, his inseparable coach, entered and whispered: “Saul, is here.” And then, Julio César Chávez entered. At 62, with the discreet elegance of which he does not need a presentation, the César del Boxeo approached the young champion. He hugged him. And he called him “champion.”

The conversation was technical at the beginning. They talked about tactical adjustments, the use of the uppercuts, how Canelo handled the distance. But soon, the moment turned to something more intimate. Canelo took the envelope, handed it to Chavez and told him about his childhood in Guadalajara, selling frozen palettes with a plasticized newspaper cut that showed Chávez’s epic victory over Meldrick Taylor. “That cut was my talisman,” he confessed.

Within the envelope, a letter dated September 2013, written by an injured, but determined cinnamon. It read:“I not only failed as a boxer, I felt that I failed Mexico. But you taught me not to give up.”What most moved Chávez were not the initial words, but the notes written on the sidelines, updated over the years, marking when and how Canelo was fulfilling each promise: to improve his defense, to improve his backlash, conquer new weight divisions.

Chávez, visibly excited, could not hide the tears. “This is not just a letter. It is proof that my legacy sowed something real,” he said. And in a gesture that made Canelo tremble, he took out a red glove, worn from his briefcase: the right glove with which he had connected the final blow to Meldrick Taylor in 1990. “This glove does not deserve to be in a museum. It deserves to be with you,” said Chávez, collection the relic in the hands of the young champion.

The moment did not end there. Chávez took a second on: his answer. “Don’t read it now. Do it in silence, as I did with yours.” They hugged each other again. No longer as an idol and fan, but as links of the same chain.

In the subsequent press conference, a journalist asked Canelo what it meant to match Chávez’s record. The silence seized the room. And then, with humility, he replied: “I am not at his level. What he achieved goes beyond numbers. If today the Mexican boxers we can sign historical contracts, it is because he opened that path.”

A month later, the creation of theChávez Álvarez Academy, an unprecedented educational and sports project in Mexico. Beyond the ring, it would form citizens, leaders, and yes, champions. At its inauguration, three objects sealed in a time capsule: the original Canelo letter, Chávez’s response and the historical glove. It would be open within 25 years, when a new generation of champions has emerged.

Julio César Chávez closed the ceremony with a reflection: “Boxing is not just blows or titles. It’s inspiration. It’s legacy. And this one,” he looked at Canelo – is in good hands. “