It was about time we saw James Toney fought like he gave a damn.

The last time we witnessed old "Lights Out" slip and dip under that many punches from a truly world-class opponent and come back with deadly accurate counter punches was 10 years ago when the brash-but-savvy youngster chopped up the menacing Iran Barkley over nine one-sided rounds to win the super middleweight title.

Ten years and 22 pounds later, Toney, 34, was almost as sharp as the 24-year-old version of himself in winning his third world title, the IBF cruiserweight belt, against the very game and tough Vassiliy Jirov via unanimous decision. But this fight wasn't one-sided, despite the rather lopsided official scorecards. Toney had to work hard for this win. Toney had to dig deep.

The roles were reversed in this matchup. Now Toney played the role that Barkley filled 10 years ago, that of the aging warrior, whose best assets were thought to be his toughness and experience, while the 29-year-old Jirov played Toney's old role of the undefeated and more athletic youngster.

But in a real fight fans-type of 12-round brawl, Toney proved that he still had the some of the desire that made him one of the most feared and respected boxers of the early '90s, while Jirov proved that he was tough enough to endure everything the former champion had to offer, which forced both men to extend themselves to their limits.

At times the fighters boxed to textbook perfection from the outside, and later in the same round they would engage in the fiercest inside warfare, resembling Rock'em-Sock 'em Robots.

The ebb and flow of the action swayed back and forth between both fighters from the first round to the dramatic 12th-round knockdown Toney scored despite being totally spent.

Both fighters wanted to knock the other out -- early, if at all possible -- but both quickly found out that they were equals in terms of will power. If Jirov thought Toney was a fat, lazy and out-of-shape has-been who would fold after absorbing the first solid body punch he delivered, he was wrong.

Toney sparred more than 100 rounds at his trainer, Freddie Roach's, Hollywood, California gym over the last two weeks of his training camp, sparring anywhere from six to 15 rounds EVERY DAY. And each day after sparring he did his roadwork -- between three and six miles -- before reporting to Billy Blank's Tae-Bo gym in the Valley for two hours of conditioning and agility exercises.

Toney hadn't worked this hard since he was considered one of the three best fighters in the world, pound for pound, along with the likes of Pernell Whitaker and Julio Cesar Chavez, in the early '90s. And he was sure the end result of that hard work would be too much for Jirov.

But he didn't know Jirov -- yet.

Toney and his sparring partners battled over dog biscuits at the Wild Card gym -- the fighter who showed the most grit and toughness in a given round was considered a "dog" and thus won the treat < but Jirov, a native of Kazakhstan, was forced to survive real dogs, German Shepherds, in locked hallways as a youth on the national boxing team of his old country. Nothing intimidates Jirov.

And he is plenty tough. Toney likes to yell about the superiority of Detroit fighters over L.A. fighters while dominating sparring partners in Hollywood, but Jirov isn't East Coast or West Coast. He's beyond that, and he's far beyond trash talk.

"Please keep talking, James," Jirov said one week ago from his training camp in Big Bear, California -- where the icy winds that cut through the remote mountain village at night fall feel like a cool summer breeze to him. "You talk with your mouth. I talk with my hands."

Jirov let his fists talk up an impressive lecture during the course of the fight, forcing Toney to the ropes in every round with hard jabs and even harder body shots, never once taking a backward step despite absorbing 46 percent of the total punches Toney threw over the 12 competitive rounds.

After eight even rounds of phonebooth action, it looked as though Jirov's youth and relentless punching would soon overwhelm a tiring Toney, who looked for refuge against the ropes more and more as the championship rounds neared. But we should never underestimate the heart of a former champion. Once a warrior, always a warrior.

Roach knew his fighter had one final rally in him to pull something special in the last round of special fight, and he implored Toney to go for it, to close the show, and the result -- a highlight reel knockdown in the final seconds of the bout that came after he landed a left to the body and head followed by two short rights -- was better than Rocky Balboa knocking out Ivan Drago in Rocky IV.

But this was no movie. This was vintage James Toney. And it was a bout time we saw that old savvy cat. We haven't seen him rally like that since the 12th round of his draw with Mike McCallum back in '91, or his desperation KO of Tim Littles and final-round demolition of Charles Williams in '94. It was classic.

And it was about time fight fans were treated to a damn good fight in the cruiserweight division. The last time we had a cruiserweight matchup as good as Jirov-Toney was 17 years ago, when a fresh-faced '84 Olympian named Evander Holyfield took on cagey veteran champ Dwight Muhammad Qawi in only his 12th pro bout.

Jirov-Toney was not as good as that all-time great 15 rounder, but it could be right behind it in terms of sustained action in that much maligned 23-year-old division. In Qawi-Holyfield I, the younger man had to dig deeper than he ever had before to out-point the relentless older man. In Jirov-Toney, it was the old man who had to ask himself if he really wanted it. If he still wanted "it", after having "it" so many years ago.

Although Toney was comfortably ahead in the eyes of the official judges, he needed to make a final-round statement to prove to the fans, the media and himself that he still wanted to be called "champion".

He does. Toney worked harder at maintaining his weight and staying in fighting shape in the past four months than he has in the last 10 years. Toney wasn't only fighting the aches and pains that go with being a 34-year-old athlete, or the tough sparring partners he banged with in the gym < he was also battling the bad habits he cultivated after years of denial and guilt over a career that seemed lost for so long.

But even the people he let down during that time, like his old promoters at Top Rank or his former manager Jackie Kallen, still rooted for him in this fight. They will always love Toney because of the pure fighter he was, and continues to be.

And it's about time we have a personality in the cruiserweight division, which is now so very close to small heavyweight title holders Roy Jones -- who Toney has some unfinished business with -- and Chris Byrd, who Lights Out couldn't help but heckle during his post-fight interview with HBO's Jim Lampley.

It's about damn we had someone fun to watch come around in boxing.