Greetings from my lovely vacation digs for this special edition of boxing’s most NSFW boxing column, the one that makes little media piglings cry “Fighthype, why are you giving him a platform?” into social media.
And, speaking of these little piglings, I just want to give a quick shoutout to a very special one (and I mean “special,” not in the good sense) from “New Era” Ring Magazine, who has started rooting around in these pages with the same sad desperation I assume he roots around in Turki Alalshikh’s clenched butt cheeks for loose change.
Anyway, here are a few things that have popped into my line of sight during this last week or so:
– I’m torn on Canelo Alvarez vs. Terence Crawford.
If you’re honest with yourself– and not a paid shill who will be pumping out propaganda for the event organizer — you have to admit that this fight is utterly pointless. It’s a cynical pairing of two elite-level fighters who should be having better, more meaningful bouts with fighters in their respective divisions. It’s just a waste of time and space that could be devoted to better things. Truly and honestly, it’s only even happening because Crawford is a pet project/bromance fixation of Saudi figurehead Turki Alalshikh and because Canelo is getting a shitload of money to fight someone he’s already said is too small for him.
But…
When Crawford beats Canelo, there’s going to be some really pungent karma blowing back into everyone’s face, like a media buffet fart from press row. The end result of this ill-conceived manufactured mega-fight will be Canelo taking the most embarrassing “L” of his career and the Saudis losing even more on their Canelo investment, left with a victorious Crawford who still won’t be able to generate much consumer appeal outside of his native Omaha.
Despite having been a self-admitted Crawford mark over the years and respectful of Canelo’s overall career, I think both deserve a good public spanking at this point. This may be one of those fights where I’ll be pulling for a comeuppance rather than a result. Maybe, then, in the last few years of their careers, they will be humbled enough to get back to what they should be doing as high-end fighters.
– No matter what happens with Canelo-Crawford, though, I hold out little hope that either will have a “come to boxing god” moment and get back to making the fights that need to be made, where they need to be made. Prima donnas are gonna prima donna, just as hacks are gonna hack.
The Saudis signing Canelo at this moment of his career is especially satisfying as someone totally NOT in favor of boxing working as a laundering service to a murderous monarchy. Getting 2025 Alvarez is a little like the Wizards getting Michael Jordan in 2001. His box office appeal has plateaued, his relevance has diminished, and his hunger has been satiated. I know the Saudis have plenty of money to waste on stupid purchases, but this Canelo deal is like tossing bloody duffel bags full of cash into a wood chipper.
– So, do I have an agenda in saying these things that I do? Well, of course I fucking do.
I am an unashamed, unapologetic supporter of American boxing, in America, run by American companies, for the benefit of American consumers. Sorry. My other agendas center around a hatred of bullies, con men, and convenient idiots serving the needs of bullies and con men.
That’s really it.
Despite having written some nuts-and-bolts fight previews for the PBC website, I really couldn’t care less if Al Haymon jumped on top of a rocket ship full of PBC home office furnishings and shot himself into deep space. I did support PBC because I liked their idea of decentralizing the power structure in boxing, moving away from the promoter-controls-everything model and giving more power to the fighters. I’m supporting their standing as the last real obstacle to a Saudi boxing takeover in the US. I’ve also ripped them– while working freelance gigs for them– which serves as a testament to their class as an organization, unlike the weirdo dynamic at Ring Magazine right now, where everyone is obliged to kiss the ring and pass along lies, intentional misinformation, and pure propaganda with a big, goofy smile.
What I care least about, though, is making friends with industry “insiders” or other media people, glad-handing my way to “career opportunities.” Some might even say that NOT being a phony stooge beholden to industry people looking to manipulate you in a quid pro quo arrangement is the proper way to go about things. But this is boxing, of course, and the piggies know no other way to feed, other than at the trough.
As for me, I’m at the point where I just won’t bother to write about shit that bores me or that doesn’t have any merit, just for the sake of churning out content. Not when it comes to boxing, anyway. Kudos to those who have the dullard-resolve to crank out “So-and-so is eager to fight for a world title” pap without blowing their fucking brains out, but that ain’t me.
But, back to boxing.
– Jake Paul may be as abrasively annoying as chubby media schlubs complaining about dry brownies at a media buffet, but you have to acknowledge his hustle. His recent signing of female fighters and his locking of Amanda Serrano into a well-deserved lifetime contract with his Most Valuable Promotions (MVP) are plus-plus moves for the sport. It’s the first legit attempt at building something real and lasting for female boxing, touching on an area of growth that has remained stubbornly untapped since, well, forever.
See? Sometimes boxing outsiders do make for valuable contributions– just not the kind of outsiders who jail social media critics and engage in backdoor slave trading (or hire dopes who brag about being REAL journalists, but can’t pull off a simple post-fight recap without twisting their brain stem into a knot.
– Speaking of brain damage…Deontay Wilder, please reconsider your “Legacy Reloaded” comeback. Brain impairment is no joke. Just read some of the befuddlingly bad, puzzlingly dyslexic reports filed at Ring Magazine these days.
– And, yeah, I know there was some boxing this weekend. That stuff’s recorded and waiting for me when I get home. For now, I kick back and enjoy a life where I don’t have to gargle sheik balls for a living.
Got something for Magno? Send it here: [email protected].
