Sonny Liston’s Blues Send Sad Notes 50 Years Into Future

Published

9 years ago

June 19, 2015

Some day they’re gonna write a blues for fighters. It’ll just be for slow guitar, soft trumpet and a bell.” — Sonny Liston

One can’t deny that there is something about Sonny’s quote that resonates deeply. And on many levels. It’s unseen but blares within us, though gently. Perhaps it’s due to history’s recording that Sonny’s ending wasn’t a good one. And perhaps, also, that’s what Sonny really was, gentle and soothing. Or at the very least — in the cacophony of extreme degrees of his complex world — he was in search of it. As all fighters are, really.

Clang!

Wind chimes, second cousins, of the boxing ring’s bell, disrupt the silence on the patio where I sit writing this story. And from black skies above me, hundreds of stars twinkle whispers of appreciation.

Whispering what?

Adulation?

Sonny didn’t trust it. How could he? Illiterate and battered by an unfulfilled father and abandoned by an abused mother, he was forever lost. But there was another who would come along. The same color as Sonny, only with a different set of circumstances. Better circumstances than Sonny, but perhaps still not better than most. Still, it was enough to prepare and propel him. May 25, 2015, was the fiftieth anniversary of second fight between Liston and Muhammad Ali. The fight christened the dawning (to the dismay and delight of many) of a disruptive and uncomfortable bolt of thunder and lightning named Cassius Clay, aka Muhammad Ali.

Cassius Clay — to the total surprise of the experts — would handle Sonny rather easily during their first Miami encounter in February of 1964. Sonny had his moments. But the young cat — literally cat-like — controlled the tempo and the boxing ring’s general geography. He systematically shut down Sonny and relegated one of the greatest heavyweight champions in history, to ordinary journeymen status.

Yes, you read that correctly. One of the greatest heavyweight champions in history.

Top three?

In my view, absolutely. In his prime, Sonny’s technique, talent and temperament stops Marciano. Forty nine and oh? More like forty nine and uh oh. Same with Joe Louis.

Interestingly enough, Sonny would have had problems with Joe Walcott, the former heavyweight champ who refereed Ali-Liston II. Walcott was a victim of Marciano and Louis, but Walcott was a slick, talented, cutie-pie boxer who could crack. I see him taking Sonny deep but I think Sonny wears him down and stops him late. Maybe.

Louis and Marciano looked to “punch.” They couldn’t have ‘punched’ and survived with Sonny.

Larry Holmes could and would have because of the three T’s I mentioned before: talent, technique, temperament. Larry’s stock and trade, his jab, his mind and movement would ensnarl Sonny. It’s a good fight though. Like Ali, Holmes, in his prime, and even after it, knew when, where and how to pull the trigger, in the moment. He was brilliant.

Fifty years ago no one had seen or imagined anything like what was fashioned in the great grandson of abolitionist Cassius Marcellus Clay. His namesake would emphatically put a stamp on his unique approach (in and out the ring) with his first-round knockout of Sonny in Lewiston.

To boxing purists,- the likes of Cus D’Amato chief among them- Ali’s ring behavior was dangerously outside the conventional approach to fighting. In the ring Ali, did everything wrong. He performed with hands by his sides and awkwardly — to the conventionalist — leaned back from opponents punches.

He eschewed body shots and danced –glided as if on skates, actually — to lyrics and a rhythm only he heard. To the gate keepers of America’s status quo, Ali conducted himself with equal- no, scratch that. With a singleness of purpose that was ferocious.

Ali’s protestations — echoes of Malcolm X , his Nation of Islam mentor who was slain a few weeks before the Lewiston rematch — would bring about death threats from those in allegiance with Malcolm as well unwanted attention from the eyes ears of The Company (CIA). The heavyhandedness of the period notwithstanding, history records that one of the greatest heavyweights – Sonny Liston – lost by KO in mysterious fashion to Muhammad Ali in the Lewiston, Maine. There were supposed to be death threats against both fighters. Whether it was Brothers from the Nation of Islam or organized crime, if the fight was fixed Jimmy Breslin’s ‘The Gang That Couldn’t Straight’ must’ve been pulling strings.

In preparation for my portrayal of Sonny Liston in Michael Mann’s ‘ALI’, I was given written works and videos on Sonny. I knew who Sonny was but the rich material supplied to me more than helped fill in the blanks. I’d sit in front of a video monitor and study, frame by frame, Sonny’s movements, idiosyncrasies, in and out of the ring and parse, with the volume muted, rewind and parse again. I’d look at the black and white images of Sonny and the unheard linguistics of his body,- they blared mightily- as he skipped rope to James Brown’s ‘Night Train’, this I’d turn up the volume for- or as when a laugh thundered from him while he was in the company/protection of children.

There were also awkward moments that were in just as awkward and grainy and distorted color images of when he would be seated, talking with a reporter. His searching, protective, untrusting eyes-even in moments where he donned the mask of hubris, one painfully birthed from the canal of private overcoming’s and public triumphs, his eyes would momentarily glazed over with the expectations that abject disappointment was always up ahead and a step or two behind him.

Muting the volume really put me in touch with the essence of who he was and he came alive for me. As Sonny was an illiterate, he behaved as a man who thought that he wasn’t being heard but simply seen. In the upheaval of the sixties, he was not being seen on his terms, either. Sound and speech are only masks for what’s underneath them.

I’m not that unfamiliar with the feelings that coursed through Sonny.

No fighter is. And that’s why we fight or did fight. To be seen, much more than heard, on what we think are, our own terms.

On extremely rare occasions though, the likes of William Shakespeare, Marlon Brando, Muhammad Ali, Miles Davis, or John, Paul, George and Ringo or Elia Kazan or Bob Marley comes along with the gift (or burden-take your pick) that unapologetically marry ‘what they are saying to us with what they are doing to us.’

Our collective volumes are turned up to full blast, their higher frequencies agitate our molecules into some form of action, whether we like it or not.

‘Your Momma wont lose this one/ Your the lucky one, under the sun/If ya

make me move then you know you’ve got the groove’ – Bob Marley.

Esoteric b—–t? No, all relatable on some levels, if open to it. Ali was completely open to the complexities-if not in full comprehension of them, but who is?- of his world fifty years ago.We can see it in his confusion, which then flashes into outrage while he glares downward, right fist-to his chest- positioned and taunting contemptuously over Sonny.

Fifty years later, Neil Leifer’s iconic photo of two giants, one fallen, -on posters and tee-shirt’s – still symbolizes, the world over, majestic dominance. And just think, it all started with yet another ‘shot’-from the pot boiling-over called The 60’s- that was heard and seen around that world.

In my breaking down of the who, what, why, where and how of the events of Ali-Liston II for the film, I came to a conclusion. The phantom punch was a clean one delivered by Muhammad. Notice, I said clean. As in, it landed flush. But would the punch thrown by Ali -not known as a one-punch knock out artist – in that specific moment result in a stoppage of a fighter of Sonny’s quality? Doubtful.

A flash knockdown as a result of that shot? That’s more believable. But not really because Sonny didn’t sell us it or cell it to himself, very well. And it looked just like what it was, bad acting on Sonny’s part.

Buy why? The look in his eyes afterward, for just a moment: self loathing.

Why?

The Phantom punch was borderline bourgeois,- more style than substance. Not that Muhammad chucked it in that context. He threw that right hand as he threw all of his right hands: with primal elegance, in search of the disruption of hardwire within the faculties of the head it crashed into.

But Ali’s capacity for punching lacked the potency to get someone out of there with literally one shot. He’d never done it before.

Dispatching an opponent with an avalanche of them? Yep – see Ali- Cleveland ‘Big Cat’ Williams. No one- with his a combination of guile, grace and killer instinct- did it better.

Ever.

Would Muhammad’s right hand get Sonny’s attention? Sure. Cause a stoppage? Non cipher.

What caused the stoppage was the macro chaos revolving around the micro chaos of Joe Walcott’s panic, Muhammad histrionics, and Sonny’s capitulation. The aforementioned death threats-hovering over both fighters- didn’t assist in facilitating an uneventful evening either. Sonny was looking for a way out.

It happens.

Recently, Manny Pacquiao, -though he was coming forward against Floyd- looked for a pleasant,agreeable-barely confrontational- way out and succeeded in finding it.

But I digress.

Sonny was coming forward when the shot hit him fifty years ago. Force against force, physics 101.

Yeah….but.

In Sonny’s next to last fight, he was knocked out by one of his former sparring partners. Leotis Martin put two shots together and in graphic fashion, deposited Sonny, face first, onto the canvas, and virtually out cold. Ali — four and a half years prior in Lewiston — never hit Sonny like that.

Or, should I say Sonny never responded to Ali’s Phantom punch like he responded to Martin’s undubbed one.

While prepping for ‘Ali’, I was put in contact with a Las Vegas associate of Ash Resnick, the manager of Sonny.The associate proceeded to give me his insights on Sonny and would also also forward the contact number of Davey Pearl. Mr. Pearl,-famously was the third man in the ring during Leonard-Hearns I- in his 80’s when we spoke, used to be one of Sonny’s best friends.

Near the close of Sonny’s life, he and Mr. Pearl would go for early morning runs on and around Las Vegas golf courses. He travelled with Sonny to ‘keep him straight’ as he told it to me. They went together to New Jersey for Sonny’s last fight against Chuck Wepner.

The Ali-Liston rematch was originally scheduled for November 16, 1965 at Boston Garden, Mr. Pearl would tell me that Sonny’s conditioning clicked, focused and returned to that of his two round in two fights blitzkrieg of Floyd Patterson, saying that Sonny ‘was in the best shape of his career’.

But wherever Muhammad and Liston went drama followed. Sonny would never get to show what kind of shape he was in. Three days before the rematch, Ali suffered a hernia and the fight was postponed six months.

Perpetually Effed! – That’s Sonny’s word not mine. I mean I played him but……

History.

What a concept.

Blues: Sonny Liston: slow, easy and methodical.

Rock and Roll: Ali: outwardly disruptive

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Michael Bentt

Remembering the Macho Man, Hector Camacho, a Great Sporting Character

Published

2 days ago

November 23, 2024

Arne K. Lang

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Twelve years ago tomorrow, on Nov. 24, 2012, Hector Camacho was officially declared dead. He was effectively dead before then, having suffered a heart attack in the hospital after his spinal cord had been severed by a bullet, but his attendants at the hospital in Bayamon, Puerto Rico, waited until his mother had arrived from New York to remove him from life support.

At the age of 50, one of the most charismatic personalities in the sporting life of America was silenced forever.

Hector “Macho” Camacho, the Macho Man, was flamboyant – boy was he ever – but he was also a great talent. A three-time New York City Golden Gloves champion, reputedly 96-4 as an amateur, he was undefeated in 31 bouts at 135 pounds and below and went on to conquer some of the sport’s biggest names – Boom Boom Mancini, Vinny Pazienza, Roberto Duran (twice), Sugar Ray Leonard – before the sun set on his long career.

Camacho was born in Bayamon but grew up in Spanish Harlem where his mother moved when he was four. He was 21 years old and 21-0 as a junior lightweight when he was first profiled in Sports Illustrated, then the best medium for enhancing the marketability of a young athlete. At this juncture in his life, Hector, who became a father at age 17, was still living in a Spanish Harlem housing project, sharing an apartment with his 38-year-old mother, his stepfather, three siblings, a niece and a nephew.

By then he had already been expelled from six schools and was no stranger to the legal system, having spent 3 ½ months at New York’s notorious Rikers Island for — as Pat Putnam phrased it — borrowing other people’s automobiles without their permission.

The story in S.I. noted that Camacho’s reflexes were so quick that he could play two video games at once. Among his many physical attributes, it was his hand speed that attracted the most attention. When he ramped up his offense, his fists were a blur. But eventually, when folks thought of Camacho, what they remembered was his choirboy face with the spit curl in the middle of his forehead and his outrageous ring costumes which ran the gamut from a loincloth to a dress.

Hot-dogging came natural to Hector Camacho; it was embedded in his DNA. And in common with Muhammad Ali, he could be arrogant without coming across as arrogant. There was an impish quality to his bravado. He was fun to be around and, in his own words, could light up a room like a Christmas tree.

What Camacho lacked was any capacity for embarrassment.

Former WBA super bantamweight champion Clarence “Bones” Adams, who is now the proprietor of a Las Vegas gym that bears his name, became fast friends with the Macho Man when both trained in Las Vegas, the host city for their most lucrative fights. Mention Camacho’s name to Adams and a smile creases his face if he doesn’t burst out laughing.

“One day after Hector and I had gone jogging,” recollects Adams, “we drove over to the old White Cross Drugs [on the north Strip near the Stratosphere] to grab a bite to eat at their lunch counter. When we left and were standing outside by the car, Hector said, ‘Hold on a minute, I have to go pee.’ I said I’ll wait for you but then I noticed he was already peeing. Some cars honked as they passed by.

“Greg Hannely, my manager at the time, and I went to Detroit in 2000 to support Hector who was on the undercard of a show featuring Thomas Hearns. At the weigh-in, Hector wore a long shirt with nothing underneath it. This wasn’t apparent until he stepped off the scale and started doing jumping jacks.

“Hector,” continues Adams, “once had a Ferrari that he misplaced; he couldn’t remember where he parked it. He never did recover that car, but he wasn’t too bothered by it. His attitude was, ‘there’s always more where it came from.’” (Presumably this was the same Ferrari that Camacho was driving when he was ticketed for driving too slow with a suspended license on a Florida highway while being pleasured by a woman sitting astride him.)

Historians would compartmentalize Camacho’s career into two segments. Part One ended with his successful lightweight title defense against Edwin Rosario at Madison Square Garden on June 13, 1986.

Camacho kept his undefeated record intact, prevailing on a split decision, but ended the fight looking as if he had taken all the worst of it. Badly hurt in the fifth round and again in the 11^th, he repaired to his dressing room with a swollen nose and two black eyes.

This fight, reads a story in a Canadian paper, “persuaded him to scale back his ultra-aggressive style in favor of a more cerebral, defensive approach.” That’s a diplomatic way of saying that Camacho devolved into a runner.

In his next fight, Camacho proved too clever for Cornelius Boza-Edwards, winning a unanimous decision, but the crowd didn’t like it when Hector spent the last two rounds on his bicycle and there were boos aplenty as the match wended to its conclusion. This would be the Macho Man’s final fight as a lightweight. He moved up to 140 where a slew of attractive match-ups awaited, notably a showdown with Julio Cesar Chavez.

Camacho and Chavez touched gloves in Las Vegas on Sept. 13, 1992, before an announced crowd of 19,100 at the UNLV basketball arena in what reportedly was the fastest sellout in Las Vegas boxing history up to that date. Chavez, widely seen as the top pound-for-pound fighter in the sport, advanced his record to 82-0 with a lopsided decision, winning all 12 rounds on the card of one of the judges. The Macho Man, who had avenged his lone defeat to Greg Haugen, declined to 41-2.

This wasn’t a milquetoast performance by Camacho. He simply couldn’t deal with Chavez’s unrelenting pressure. LA Times scribe Alan Malamud wrote that Hector showed unexpected grit by trading with Chavez after his legs were gone, thereby reducing him to a stationary target. But more brickbats came Camacho’s way following setbacks to Felix Trinidad and Oscar De La Hoya. He lasted the distance in both bouts but was roundly out-pointed. By the third round of the De La Hoya fight, wrote Kevin Iole, it was a foregone conclusion that De La Hoya would win.

Between the Trinidad and De La Hoya fights, staged 44 months apart, Camacho had 21 fights and won them all. His victims were mostly journeyman with two notable exceptions. On June 22, 1996, he scored a 12-round unanimous decision over 45-year-old Roberto Duran. Eight months later, he defeated another faded legend when he stopped Sugar Ray Leonard in the fifth round. Leonard, who had been out of the ring for six years, was forever retiring and unretiring and Camacho retired him for good. Both bouts were in Atlantic City.

A wag wrote that Sugar Ray was 40 years old going on 41 and that Camacho was 35 years old going on puberty.

Camacho’s advisors kept him busy to keep his name in the news and Hector did his part by making the news for bad behavior outside the ring. In January of 2005, he was arrested for the November 2004 burglary of a computer store in Gulfport, Mississippi. He went there to retrieve a laptop that was being repaired but entered the property after hours by way of the ceiling. An illegal drug, ecstasy, was found in his hotel room when he was placed under arrest.

After serving five months in jail, Camacho was released with the understanding that he would be placed under house arrest for one year when he returned to Puerto Rico but, by all accounts, the authorities in Puerto Rico were never notified of this arrangement.

Camacho’s frequent misdeeds, once seen as the amusing antics of a fun-loving man-child, came to be seen in a different light as he grew older; as a pattern of behavior that betrayed a dark side in his personality.

In a 1985 conversation with New York Times boxing writer Michael Katz, Camacho’s estranged manager Billy Giles said, “someday he’ll wind up like Tyrone Everett, maybe worse,” the reference to a talented junior lightweight from Philadelphia who was murdered under sordid circumstances.

That proved to be eerily prophetic.

Camacho had 20 more fights after his hollow performance against Oscar De La Hoya, ending his career as a bloated middleweight. His only noteworthy opponent during this final phase of his boxing career was Duran who was then 50 years old when they clashed in Denver. In a bout that echoed their first meeting, Hector won a unanimous decision. This was Roberto Duran’s farewell fight. Camacho soldiered on for eight more bouts, winning five.

In November of 2012, thirty months after his last ring assignment, Hector Camacho and a companion were ambushed as they sat in a car in the darkened parking lot of a Bayamon, Puerto Rico bar. The companion died instantly in the hail of bullets. Police found nine packets of cocaine on the decedent and an open packet of cocaine in the car.

Camacho’’s funeral was held at Harlem’s landmark Saint Cecilia’s Church. Hundreds of mourners stood in the cold outside the church as his casket was being placed in the funeral car. They cheered and shouted Camacho’s battle cry, “Macho Time,” as the hearse pulled away.

They say you shouldn’t speak bad about the dead, so we will let Bones Adams have the last word. “Hector had his demons,” says Adams, “but he was a great friend, a nice, kind, and caring guy.”

—

Editor’s note: For more on Hector Camacho, check out Christian Giudice’s biography, “Macho Time: The Meteoric Rise and Tragic Fall of Hector Camacho,” published by Hamilcar in 2020.

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Avila Perspective, Chap. 304: A Year of Transformation in Boxing and More

Published

2 days ago

November 22, 2024

David A. Avila

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A subtle transformation in professional boxing is taking place with the biggest fights no longer placed in Las Vegas, New York or Los Angeles. Instead, they are heading to the Middle East.

Golden Boy Promotions joined the crowd last week with one of their stronger fight cards taking place in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The main attractions were new unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto “Zurdo” Ramirez of Mexico along with Puerto Rico’s diminutive Oscar Collazo unifying the minimumweight division.

And there is more to come.

Matchroom Boxing seemed to lead the way in this rerouting of major boxing events. It goes as far back as December 2019 when Anthony Joshua fought Andy Ruiz in a rematch for the heavyweight championship in Diriyah, Saudi Arabia.

Little by little major fights are being rerouted to Saudi Arabia.

Is it a good thing or not?

For promoters looking to cut costs it’s definitely welcomed. But what does it do for the fan base accustomed to saving their money to buy tickets for one or two major events?

Now there is talk of Shakur Stevenson, Devin Haney and Terence Crawford heading to the Middle East to fight on major cards sponsored by “Riyad Spring.” It’s a new avenue for the sport of pro boxing.

This past week Golden Boy and its roster of Latino fighters took its turn and showed off their brand of aggressive fights. Some like Collazo and Arnold Barboza made the best of their moments. And, of course, Zurdo proved he should have moved up in weight years ago. He could be the Comeback Fighter of the Year.

Benavidez vs Morrell

Interim light heavyweight champion David Benavidez accepted a challenge from WBA light heavyweight titlist David Morrell to meet on Feb. 1 at T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas.

Bad blood between the two tall fighters already exists.

Morrell claims Benavidez is over-rated.

“I’m getting the knockout. 100%. He’s all talk and no bite. He can’t do what he thinks he’s gonna do,” said Morrell. “He has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s provoking me and now I want to go out there and beat the crap out of him. I’m here now and none of that talk matters.”

Benavidez begs to differ.

“Here we are again. I told you that I was going to give you the fights you want to see, and now we’re here,” Benavidez said while in Los Angeles. “Morrell has been talking about me for a while and disrespecting me. He wanted to make it personal with me, so I’m personally going to break his mouth. That’ll give him something to remember me by.”

Also scheduled to fight on the fight card are Isaac Cruz, Stephen Fulton, Brandon Figueroa and Jesus Ramos Jr.

Netflix

No surprise for me with the massive success of the Jake Paul and Mike Tyson event on the Most Valuable Promotions boxing card last week.

According to Netflix there were 108 million people tuned into the event last Friday that also featured the incredible Amanda Serrano and Katie Taylor rematch. Another exciting card was the men’s welterweight clash between Mario Barrios and Abel Ramos that ended in a draw.

If fans weren’t satisfied with the Paul fight, they certainly got their fulfillment with the world title fights, especially Serrano and Taylor who were estimated to be viewed by more than 72 million people. No female fight in history can touch those numbers.

So, what’s next for Netflix in terms of boxing?

West Coast Blues

Southern California is usually a hotbed for boxing events no matter what time of the year. But this year only a few boxing cards are taking place within a driving distance until the end of the year.

Las Vegas is in slumber and Southern California has a few smaller boxing cards still on schedule. Arizona has a significant Top Rank fight card in a few weeks as does Golden Boy Promotions in the Inland Empire.

Here are some upcoming fight events worth noting:

Dec. 5 – at OC Hangar in Costa Mesa, Calif. Vlad Panin vs Sal Briceno by SOCA Fights.

Dec. 7 – at Footprint Center in Phoenix, Rafael Espinoza vs Robeisy Ramirez and Oscar Valdez vs Emanuel Navarrete by Top Rank.

Dec. 13, at Chumash Casino 360 in Santa Ynez, Calif. Carlos Balderas vs Cesar Villarraga by 360 Promotions.

Dec. 14 at Toyota Arena in Ontario, Calif. Alexis Rocha vs Raul Curiel by Golden Boy Promotions.

Turkeys in East L.A.

The 25^th annual Turkey Giveaway by Golden Boy takes place on Saturday Nov. 23, at Oscar De La Hoya Animo High School starting at 11 a.m.

It’s incredible that 25 years have passed since the inception of this yearly event. Many current and past fighters for the promotion company will be passing out turkeys and meeting fans. Among those expected to appear are Alexis Rocha, Victor Morales, Joel Iriarte, Bryan Lua and others.

Photo: Eddie Hearn, Frank Warren, and HE Turki Alalshikh at the Joshua-Dubois fight

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Philly’s Jesse Hart Continues His Quest plus Thoughts on Tyson-Paul and ‘Boots’ Ennis

Published

3 days ago

November 21, 2024

Luis A. Cortes III

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Jesse Hart (31-3, 25 KOs) returns to the ring tomorrow night (Friday, Nov. 22) on a Teflon Promotions card at the Liacouras Center on the campus of Temple University. During a recent media workout for the show, which will feature five other local fighters in separate bouts, Hart was adamant that fighting for the second time this year at home will only help in his continuing quest to push towards a second chance at a world championship. “Fighting at home is always great and it just makes sense from a business standpoint since I already have a name in the sport and in the city,” said Hart (pictured on the left).

Hart’s view of where his career currently resides in relation to the landscape in the light heavyweight division leads you to believe that, at the age of 35, Hart is realistic about how far he can go before his career is over.

“Make good fights, win those fights, fight as much as I can and stay busy, that’s the way the light heavyweight division won’t be able to ignore me,” he says. Aside from two losses back in 2017 and 2018 to current unified cruiserweight champion Gilberto Ramirez at super middleweight, Hart’s only other defeat was to Joe Smith during Smith’s most successful portion of his career.

When attempts to make fights with (at the time) up-and-coming prospects like Edgar Berlanga and David Benavidez were denied with Hart being viewed as the typical high risk-low reward opponent, it was time to find another way. So, Hart decided to stay local after splitting with Top Rank Promotions post-surgery to repair his longtime right-hand issues and hooked up with Teflon Promotions, an upstart company that is the latest to take on the noble endeavor of trying to return North Broad Street and Atlantic City to boxing prominence.

In essence, it is a calculated move that is potentially a win-win situation for all parties. Continued success for Hart along with some of the titles at light heavyweight eventually being released from Artur Beterbiev’s grasp due to outside politics, and Jesse Hart just may lift up Teflon Promotions into a major player on the regional scene.

Tickets for Friday’s show are available on Ticketmaster platforms.

As we entered November, a glance at the boxing schedule made me wonder if it was possible for the sport to have a memorable month — one that could shine a light forward in boxing’s ongoing quest to regain relevance in today’s sports landscape. Having consecutive weekends with events that could spark interest in the pugilistic artform and its wonderful characters was what I was hoping for, but what we got instead was more evidence that boxing isn’t immune to modern business practices landing a one-two punch on the action both inside and outside of the ring.

Jaron “Boots” Ennis was expected to make a statement in his rematch with Karen Chukhadzian on Nov. 9, a statement to put the elite level champions around his weight class on notice. What we witnessed, however, was more evidence of how current champions in their prime can be hampered by having to navigate a business that functions through the cooperation of independent contractors. Ennis got the job done – he won – but it was a lackluster performance.

It’s time for Ennis to fight the fighters we already thought we would have seen him fight by now and I do believe there is some truth to Ennis rising to the occasion if there was a more noteworthy name across the ring.

—

Some positives emerged from the Mike Tyson-Jake Paul event the following week. Amanda Serrano, Katie Taylor, and women’s boxing are finally getting the public recognition they deserve. Mario Barrios’s draw against the tough Abel Ramos, also on the Netflix broadcast, was an action-packed firefight. So, mainstream America and beyond got to witness actual fights before being subjected to Paul’s latest circus.

Unfortunately for fans, but fortunately for Paul, the lone true boxing star in the main event dimmed out from an athletic standpoint decades ago. In this instance modern business practices allowed for a social media influencer to stage his largest money grab from a completely unnuanced public.

As Paul rose to the ring apron from the steps and looked around “Jerry’s World,” taking in the moment, it reminded me of an actual fighter when they’re about to enter the ring taking in the atmosphere before they risk their lives after a lifetime of dedication to try and realize a childhood dream. In this case though, this was a natural-born hustler realizing as he made it to the ring apron that his hustle was likely having its moment of glory.

In boxing circles, Jake Paul is viewed as a “necessary evil.” What occurs in his fights are merely an afterthought to the spectacle that is at the core of the social media realm that birthed him. Hopefully the public learned from the atrocity that occurred once the exhibition started that smoke and mirrors last for only so long. Hopefully Paul’s moment of being a boxing performer and acting like a true fighter comes to its conclusion. But he isn’t going away anytime soon, especially since his promotional company is now in bed with Netflix.

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