Pro-boxing: A slow suicide
Is it possible for a sport to commit hara-kiri? Professional boxing is making a damn good go at it.
As a boxing coach, I get to speak to a wide cross-sample of society. I often ask my clients their thoughts on boxing, on forthcoming fights. I ask them who their favourite fighters are. Most of the time, I get similar answers:
I don't watch boxing.
I prefer the older fighters.
It's all about money.
They don't make the fights.
Some of this is understandable. Not everyone is a boxing fanatic. But there is one demographic that would concern me if I had a stake in progressing pro boxing —young people.
These kids are the next generation of potential boxing fans. Of the kids I speak to, the vast majority have zero interest. They have heard of Tyson Fury, Anthony Joshua and the Paul brothers. After that, their boxing knowledge disappears.
I ask them about the premier fighters plying their trade today. Naoya Inoue, Vasyl Lomachenko, Terrence Crawford, Errol Spence Jnr. I get a shake of the head. Never heard of them. And then comes the kicker — 'I watch the UFC instead'.
There is an ongoing debate on the UFC's chances of overtaking boxing as the premier combat sport. Talking to my son, recently — a fan of both sports — he insisted that the war is already won. 'Boxing's dead', he told me. 'It's done'.
As a child, I grew up watching boxing on a regular basis. I watched fantastic domestic fighters on terrestrial TV. Sportsnight and Midweek Sports Special would showcase the likes of Frank Bruno, Tony Sibson, Herol Graham. All enhanced by the erudite commentary of Harry Carpenter and Reg Gutteridge — both masters of their trade.
Nowadays, promoters patronise the paying boxing fan with fake rivalries and pathetic, made-up beefs. Want to see a real grudge match? Check out the all-British slugfest between Mark Kaylor and Errol Christie. A stone-cold classic. As a kid, I got watch this live on the BBC.
Foreign superstars usually arrived via delayed shows. But at least we saw them.
Nowadays, fights are pay per view. Elite boxers — and some not so elite ones — get the paywall treatment. In these turbulent financial times, how many working-class families can afford subscriptions? How many can stump up the extra money for PPV?
How many working-class kids — traditionally the lifeblood of boxing — get to see boxing on TV? This is my main concern. If a child doesn’t watch a sport, they are unlikely to take part in it.
I work on and off with a young man who competes as a kickboxer. He comes to me to sharpen up his boxing skills. He also practices jiu-jitsu, with an eye on becoming a mixed martial artist.
This kid has real talent. Ten years ago, he would have naturally gravitated to a boxing gym. I believe he has enough talent to be an ABA champion. But he has no interest in pursuing a boxing career.
And it's not only the paywall that is killing boxing. The UFC has a subscription model, but people are happy to pay if they can. Why? The UFC make fights.
As I write this, it is the morning after the Devin Haney v George Kambosos rematch. This was a fight that nobody needed to see again. Haney outclassed his Australian opponent in the first fight. The difference in class was so wide that no change from the Australian's camp would bridge the gap.
The fight got made because of yet another rematch clause. This kind of legalese is a contributory factor in boxing's slow suicide. They produce a lot of fights that people don't want to see, and block the fights that people do want to see.
Take the lightweight division as an example. It is a veritable shark tank. Along with Haney you have Vasily Lomachenko, Gervonta Davis, Ryan Garcia, Teófimo López. This could be a modern day version of the 1980s Four Kings. But for whatever reason, the promoters and fighters won’t make the fights.
Terrance Crawford and Errol Spence Jr are elite welterweights. The world needs to see them fight, but I have my doubts that will ever happen. And if it does, both men will probably be on the downward slide.
Fans are fed up and are slowly tuning out.
A sport that alienates its future fans and participants is on a fast-track to oblivion.
