by David P. Greisman

Timothy Bradley’s nickname is “Desert Storm,” taken from the name of a deejay he heard referenced on the radio but otherwise recalling the name of the operation that brought the U.S. military into battle in Iraq in 1991. Despite his nickname, Bradley is better off avoiding war altogether.

Bradley isn’t quite built like a tank. He is indeed mostly muscle, biceps jutting from each arm like a large scoop of ice cream on a banana split, highly defined abs that seem cartoonishly swollen, as if the costume George Clooney wore in “Batman and Robin” was modeled off Bradley’s midsection. But otherwise he is small in stature, compact at 5-foot-6 and despite that still with nary an ounce of body fat to be seen when he drops below the welterweight limit of 147 pounds.

Other fighting fireplugs have been buzz saws in the ring — Dwight Qawi’s nickname appropriately appropriated the power tool. As brave and tough as Bradley has shown himself to be, it is still better for him to try not to prove it once again.

Boxers can be their own worst enemies. They can be damaged, figuratively or physically, by what they do or don’t do — both before a fight and during one. Bradley had been badly hurt for nearly the entirety of his war with Ruslan Provodnikov in 2013 and for a brief moment of his bout with Jessie Vargas this past June. Those moments need not have happened.

The fight with Provodnikov was Bradley’s first following his win over Manny Pacquiao in June 2012. That win over one of the best boxers in the world hadn’t been what he’d hoped. Nearly everyone believed Pacquiao had deserved to win and Bradley had benefited from horrible judging. Pacquiao would fight again before the year was out. Bradley didn’t get a promotional boost and didn’t return until nine months later.

When he did return, he felt he had something to prove. He sunk himself into an unnecessary battle when boxing and movement would’ve been a better strategy against Provodnikov. Bradley was fortunate to make it through the fight, fortunate that the referee allowed him to continue, and fortunate to edge Provodnikov on the scorecards. It took a toll on his head and body. He suffered a concussion. He urinated blood.

He boxed much more wisely in a close decision over Juan Manuel Marquez later that year.

Bradley was ahead on the scorecards going into the final round of his fight with Vargas. He didn’t know that for sure, but he very well should’ve believed that he was minutes away from victory. He was less than a minute away from the win when he threw a jab that fell short, then brought his left hand back low. Vargas leaned forward and feinted with a jab. Bradley saw the left side of Vargas’ head exposed and began to throw a right cross. Vargas, however, had already begun to come forward with an overhand right that Bradley never saw coming. It landed first and it landed flush. Bradley was rocked.

He retreated. Vargas pursued. One left hook was blocked. Another landed to little effect. He went to Bradley’s body. Suddenly the referee jumped in, hearing the 10-second warning marking the approaching end of the round and wrongly thinking it was the final bell. Vargas at first thought he’d been awarded the stoppage. Once he realized what happened, he felt he’d been robbed of a chance to finish Bradley. Bradley argued he’d have survived those last moments anyway.

It was a win for Bradley. But it nearly wasn’t thanks to a mistake he made.

And so a fighter who had won world titles at junior welterweight and welterweight, who had been seen as one of the best in the entire sport and who had made millions of dollars decided to split with Joel Diaz, the trainer who had been with him throughout. He brought in Teddy Atlas, the longtime boxing analyst for ESPN who had worked with boxers before but rarely cornered professional fighters these days.

Bradley had less than two months with Atlas before his fight with Brandon Rios this past Saturday. There wasn’t too much time to fix his flaws and change his approach in the ring to the point that these alterations became second nature.

It’s hard to tell how much of Bradley’s win over Rios can be credited to Atlas. Part of that uncertainty is because Bradley has shown himself to be a skilled boxer before, whether it was in the way he outpointed Lamont Peterson back in 2009 or how he maneuvered against Marquez in 2013.

The rest of the uncertainty is because Bradley wasn’t the only one on the card Saturday who was his worst enemy. While Bradley was working on ending his bad habits, Rios was ended because of his own.

Rios, as with many other fighters, tends to gain a lot of weight between his bouts. Fighters drain their body down as low as they can go and for as long as they can, seeking to rehydrate between weigh-in and fight night so they can come in with advantages in size and power and without losing speed, stamina and the ability to take a shot. It can be a precarious process, and it can become even more difficult for those who pack on the pounds and then need to persuade their bodies to part with them.

Rios had outgrown lightweight when he lost his title on the scales in 2011, a reality that became clear when he was above 135 pounds again for another fight in 2012. He went up to 140, then moved to 147 for a fight with Pacquiao in late 2013. Afterward, it was announced that Rios had tested positive for methylhexaneamine, a banned stimulant that also can be used as a dietary supplement.

Rios remained at welterweight for his fights afterward, though only for those few moments when he was on the scale the day before a bout. Training camps were more for dropping weight. Little time, if any, was spent with him in peak condition. Rios was slightly over the welterweight limit when he first weighed in for Bradley. He came back on target, though a day later HBO’s scales had him unofficially gaining 23 pounds.

He didn’t look good. And he no longer could get away with it.

Bradley, like Pacquiao, knew that Rios was less effective if he had to keep moving. Rios was too slow in pursuit. Bradley could hit him and then get away.

Bradley made sure to hit that ample body, landing there 88 times. He may not be a buzz saw, but he cut through Rios, stopping a fighter whose ability to take a punch had been one of his best assets over the years. One left hook to the body put Rios on the canvas in the ninth round. Another volley downstairs sent Rios down for a second time. The referee saw that Rios was done and stepped in to halt the fight.

“My body is not the same no more,” Rios said afterward. “I’ve been in a lot of wars. I think it’s time to hang it up. … My body ain’t reacting the same.”

The mental and physical components of this sport overlap. Boxers can be their own worst enemies. Brandon Rios is tough, but he made things too tough on himself. Timothy Bradley’s past mental mistakes were in what he did or didn’t do on fight night. Rios’ mental mistakes were in what he did or didn’t do in the months between fights. Bradley treats his body like a temple. Rios doesn’t, and so he didn’t have a prayer.

The 10 Count is on hiatus.

“Fighting Words” appears every Monday on BoxingScene.com. Pick up a copy of David’s book, “Fighting Words: The Heart and Heartbreak of Boxing,” at http://bit.ly/fightingwordsamazon or internationally at http://bit.ly/fightingwordsworldwide . Send questions/comments via email at fightingwords1@gmail.com