The cruelest trick time plays on champions is convincing them there’s still one more mountain to climb when everyone else can see the summit was reached years ago.
Sam-A Gaiyanghadao, at 42, with three ONE world titles already decorating his legacy and 376 career victories testifying to his mastery, should by all reasonable accounts be content with what he’s accomplished.
Reasonable, however, has never been a word associated with fighters who’ve spent four decades perfecting fighting as art form.
Friday evening at ONE Friday Fights 137 inside Lumpinee Stadium, Sam-A welcomes Jaosuayai Mor Krungthepthonburi to the strawweight division in what boxing folks used to call a “welcome to the neighborhood” fight — the kind where a young prospect discovers whether he belongs among the established residents or needs to find another address.
For Sam-A, the bout represents something more complex than simple gatekeeping. It’s about proving that the body at 42 can still do what the mind remembers, that dropping weight classes and chasing belts aren’t exercises in delusion but legitimate pursuits for someone who’s mastered his craft so thoroughly that age becomes merely another variable to manage.
“I heard that Jaosuayai would be dropping down to the strawweight division, and I figured we’d meet one day, but I didn’t expect it to happen so fast that I’d be the one initiating him into the division,” Sam-A said.
“Jaosuayai is an agile fighter with sharp punches. His striking and footwork are fast. He’s a well-rounded, modern fighter.”
The respect in those words carries weight precisely because it comes from a man who’s seen everything the sport can throw at someone. When you’ve accumulated 376 victories across three decades, praising an opponent’s speed and technical acumen isn’t empty promotion — it’s honest scouting from someone who knows the difference between genuine threat and manufactured hype.
Jaosuayai arrives at strawweight carrying the burden of recent disappointment. His decision loss to Akif Guluzada at flyweight this past October marked his first defeat in over a year, the kind of setback that forces fighters to reconsider weight classes and strategies. The 24-year-old brings speed and knockout power, having demolished Nakrob Fairtex in just 52 seconds back in June before the Guluzada stumble.
But Sam-A has identified the question that matters most when fighters chase lower weights: can the body maintain its power when forced to shed pounds it’s carried for years?
“Looking at his physique, Jaosuayai is well-suited for the strawweight division,” Sam-A said.
“But when he steps into the ring at this weight, we have to see if his power and endurance will be the same. Crucially, we need to see if he can take a shot because dropping down a weight class always comes with side effects. We’ll see how well he performs when he actually fights.”
There’s almost scholarly interest in Sam-A’s assessment, the curiosity of someone who’s spent a lifetime studying how bodies respond to the demands combat sports make upon them. He’s not dismissing Jaosuayai’s credentials so much as noting that all credentials require verification under new circumstances.
The tactical approach writes itself with the elegant simplicity that comes from decades of pattern recognition. Jaosuayai fell against Guluzada after an early knockdown disrupted his rhythm — the same trap that’s caught Sam-A before, that universal vulnerability all fighters share regardless of skill level.
“Jaosuayai’s loss to Akif came from a mistake similar to mine – he was dropped early and couldn’t catch up, which led to the loss,” Sam-A said.
“As for his weakness, since he dropped a weight class for this fight, I’m ready to use my heavy left kick to punish him. I still have all my Muay Thai weapons in my arsenal, and I’m prepared to give my junior a warm welcome to the strawweight division.”
That left kick has been Sam-A’s calling card for so long it’s become synonymous with his name in Thai boxing circles. At 42, he claims the weapon retains its stopping power, that time hasn’t dulled what training has maintained.
“Even at 42, I think my body is in better condition than when I fought Thway Lin Htet because my training camp has been longer,” Sam-A said.
“I’m fully prepared to fight now.”
But Friday’s bout exists as more than just another defense of territory, another young challenger sent back to reconsider his approach. For Sam-A, Jaosuayai represents the path toward something the legend still craves with the hunger that defines great fighters even when logic suggests they’ve already eaten their fill.
“If I can get past Jaosuayai, there might be some surprises in store,” Sam-A said.
“Jaosuayai is a skilled and well-known fighter, so defeating him will definitely boost my confidence and give me a clearer path to pursue my goals for success. The chance to compete for a title again might not be far off.”
There it is — the admission that three world titles across two sports somehow aren’t enough, that the competitive fire that’s burned for decades hasn’t dimmed so much as redirected itself toward one final achievement.
“The goal of every fighter is to become a champion,” Sam-A said.
“Since I’m getting older, I want one more chance to touch that success again. If I can win ONE gold before retiring, I will feel like I’ve successfully completed my duty and can be fully proud of my achievements.”
The mathematics of legacy rarely satisfy their subjects. From the outside, Sam-A’s career already reads like fiction — 376 victories, three world titles, recognition as one of Muay Thai’s all-time greats.
Yet he carries the weight of what might have been, the kickboxing title that slipped away when injury and timing conspired against him.
“I still regret missing out on the kickboxing title. That day wasn’t my day,” Sam-A said.
“I missed my rhythm and got injured. If everything lines up, I want to go back, prove myself, and challenge for the belt again, in both Muay Thai and kickboxing rules.”
Come Friday evening, the ancient ring at Lumpinee Stadium will host what appears to be a simple bout between veteran gatekeeper and ambitious newcomer.
But beneath that surface narrative runs something more poignant — a 42-year-old master refusing to acknowledge that mountains already climbed might be sufficient, and a 24-year-old challenger discovering whether dropping weight has granted him entry to a neighborhood where legends still patrol the streets.
The answer arrives in three rounds or less, as it always does in this business.