These are sad days for America boxing, ladies and gentlemen.
Where does one even begin to chronicle the utter suckiness of the domestic boxing product in the United States at the moment?
We can start with, arguably, our all-around best fighter, Terence Crawford, who seems to be pouting for a big-money Canelo Alvarez fight in the same way that he pouted for a big-money Errol Spence fight. This time around, though, there’s no Top Rank in his life to force him to get in the ring.
Crawford’s Saudi sugar daddy, Turki Alalshikh, recently told UK reporter Charlie Parsons that “Bud” is only interested in a Canelo fight and is not on board with Vergil Ortiz or Jaron Ennis bouts. This sounds totally in character for a character who, once earning top dog status at 147, has done unto others (in a bad way) what he felt was done unto him.
Without the slightest pause, hint of self-awareness, or recognition of irony, Crawford has become the business-first, risk vs. reward player he’s so bitterly lamented over the years. And that’s fine. Let him soul search his way to emotional maturity at his own speed. But while he tantrums over somebody else denying him a payday he feels he deserves, he’s also keeping his legitimate in-ring awesomeness away from fans and away from a US boxing scene that may not be actually supporting him with their consumer dollar, but can still be energized by his work.
Then there’s Gervonta Davis, who DOES have the star potential that Crawford doesn’t have, but is almost equally indifferent about giving fans what they want.
Sure, losing a proposed big-ticket bout later this year with Vasiliy Lomachenko was entirely the fault of a Lomachenko who wasn’t “in the mood” to fight Davis. But that doesn’t wipe away 98% of the rest of Davis’ career, where his matchmaking has been almost aggressively antagonistic towards the fights that fans actually want to see from him.
As possible Lomachenko and Shakur Stevenson fights fade into the distance, Tank seems fine with disappearing indefinitely until the safest fight for the most money presents itself. Good for him, bad for US boxing.
Meanwhile...
The red-hot nature of Shakur Stevenson’s promotional free agency is mostly the result of slow news cycles as media struggling for content regurgitated headline-friendly quotes about Stevenson from Oscar De La Hoya and Eddie Hearn.
The truth is that anyone signing Shakur to a promotional contract is probably going to lose money on him, long-term. The only in-the-black options for the less-than-electrifying safety-first stylist would probably be one-off bouts with Tank Davis and, maybe, Vasiliy Lomachenko. A rumored Saudi-funded bout with William Zepeda would be interesting, but it would only happen because the Saudis don’t really care about losing money (or about sacrificing a promotional partner’s house fighters).
All in all, though, Stevenson is nothingness to the US boxing scene, just a very good boxer with almost no commercial up side. Plus, he’s so fucking annoying.
And, speaking of annoying…
Ryan Garcia is probably, still-- embarrassingly-- the closest thing the American boxing scene has to a crossover star. Even through the PEDs pop and all the goofy and vile shit he’s said online, he has star power and an actual willingness to get in the ring. Too bad he’s serving a year suspension and inching towards a spectacularly ugly psychological breakdown.
Garcia victim Devin Haney, meanwhile, recently vowed a comeback (because “the game ain’t been the same” without him), then promptly got caught on video sucker-punching some guy at a fair somewhere, precipitating a 5-on-1 beatdown.
Truth be told, I don’t care if Haney ever actually comes back and most fans probably feel the same way I do. Although his loss to Garcia got turned into a No Contest because of Garcia popping dirty, the performance still carried the big stench of an “L.” Nobody can un-see the way an unfocused, semi-trained, and admittedly booze and weed-addled Garcia buckled him every time he landed. That was a legit ass-whupping and it’s going to stick on him.
Let’s not even talk all that much about the American heavyweight scene, where “the next great American heavyweight” Jared Anderson got absolutely starched by Martin Bakole and the next best US big men-- Jarrell Miller and Andy Ruiz-- look like entrants in a hot dog eating contest.
Jaron “Boots” Ennis will, apparently, be tied up with a mandatory IBF defense against Karen Chukhadzhian, in a rematch of his worst and least-inspiring performance. After that, I have zero faith that new promoter Eddie Hearn will get him any opponents beyond the Euro-cans Hearn digs up from his back yard.
David Benavidez will rest in light heavyweight limbo indefinitely, waiting on the winner of Bivol-Beterbiev in somewhat the same way he “limboed” at super middleweight, waiting on Canelo Alvarez.
And don’t you dare look to the recent past for American excellence.
Errol Spence keeps dragging and dragging when it comes to a return to the ring and that would lead one to believe that even he doubts the likelihood of a fruitful comeback. The Charlo twins have melted down. Deontay Wilder is absolutely done. Teofimo Lopez-- with one main stage-worthy performance (versus a totally faded Josh Taylor) in about four years-- has “takeover’d” his way into irrelevance.
All we have is “Bam” Rodriguez at this point.
Yes, these are sad days, America. Sad days where Golden Boy and Top Rank have sold themselves into “partnerships” with the Saudis and where American fans at an American venue were recently forced to stand and pay respects to the Saudi national anthem. And don’t expect PBC to save the day with their once-a-quarter pay-per-views or their eternally pushed-back, but eternally promised “free shows.”
American boxing is cooked.
I have no witty closing retort for this one. We suck.
Got something for Magno? Send it here: paulmagno@theboxingtribune.com