The bell for the final round rings and 20,000 people are on their feet at Crypto.com arena (staples center) as the two titans collide in the center. Ortiz comes out violently. He knows this is his last shot and he catches Ruiz early with the left, but Ruiz responds without hesitation landing punishing power of his own. Ruiz uses a strange high guard to pry past the southpaw's left and land the counter right. It’s beautiful boxing. Ortiz ultimately takes the round but Ruiz the fight. Andy “The Destroyer” Ruiz had sat down Luis “King Kong” Ortiz three times over the course of 12 rounds and that is difficult to overcome. As the arena emptied my friends and I sat and discussed the aftermath. It was a great fight. 12 rounds of heavyweight thunder, of knockdowns, and comebacks, and beautiful boxing, and yet something hung over us.
We were left slightly wanting - but why?
As goes the heavyweight division so goes the sport of boxing. Maybe it was Rocky, maybe it’s Tyson’s shadow or Ali’s ghost, or maybe it’s just the simplicity. Everybody understands “heavy.” The big boys. The top dogs. The “Baddest Men on the Planet.” Most don’t shadow box in front of the mirror and cry out Welterweight CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! Even if that might currently be the weight class of the best in the game - Lookin at you Bud. No, the casual boxing fan raises their arms and crowns themselves heavyweight champ. Even when we were just boys, roughhousing in the basement, heavyweight was the name.
Gone, though, are the days of the heavyweight kings. We had Fury, I enjoyed the cerebral Klitschko’s, and Usyk is promising, but no more Tysons, no Holyfields, no Foremans, no Alis, and no Marcianos. Fury may have even given us the best heavyweight trilogy in the modern era but who watched? The diehards did, and maybe casual viewers caught one, or saw the knockouts on Instagram, but did they sit down and watch? Did it dominate the zeitgeist like Ali V Foreman? Did it have the hype of a Tyson fight? Don’t get me wrong - the past decade has had some of the best prize fighting in the history of the sport. Divisions like welterweight and lightweight have provided incredible match-ups and even better fights, but sadly no one is paying attention.
So why?
Time -
It is 2022, not 1922. The hardscrabble Dempsey route to fame and fortune is no longer the only route. There are more avenues of success today than in boxing’s heyday and if you are so violently inclined there are other mainstream alternatives. The rise of MMA has surpassed boxing as the best violence on TV. Combat sports have evolved and the chess match of the sweet science cannot compete with the parity, brutality, and drama of Mixed Martial Arts. MMA also provides its own brand of technical precision and gamesmanship but is mixed with a level of unpredictability and wildness and athleticism that cannot be matched. Leon Edward's spectacular head-kick knockout of Kamaru Usman (In a fight Edwards had been losing badly) should be more than enough to understand the allure. Hell the average UFC undercard will have more drama and more highlight reel moments than most heavyweight boxing matches.
Entertainment -
A decade-plus of “the money era” created an age of lackluster matchups and kept the viewer's eye on a 150 lb counterpuncher who picked his opponents wisely. That isn’t a slight against Floyd either - he is and only should be loyal to himself - it just didn’t lend itself to blockbuster fights. Floyd created the business model of “The Bad Guy.” Or maybe just popularized it. Either way, Mayweather played the heel in boxing better than anyone. Thousands paid for his fights solely based on the hope that they could witness him lose and
Floyd - a master in more ways than one - made them pay for it, every time. Mainly because he was just that damn good. Fighters took Floyd's lead and focused more on negotiating contracts and picking ideal matchups than taking the biggest fight. During that same time period came along a combat sports alternative with little politics and a whole lot of action. The fans followed that action and boxing took a back seat. But competition breeds supremacy and in the mid-2010s boxers started looking for the best fight and not the best match-up.
The fights got better and better and MMA’s rising tide made boxing better and better with the arms race culminating in the largest combat sports event in history. The return of Money May vs The Notorious One, Conor McGregor. It was glorious and fun and completely unnecessary and yet everyone wanted it. Everyone - casual, diehard, and anyone in between, gathered together to watch the brash MMA superstar take on boxing’s bad guy in the squared circle. The fight’s legitimacy aside, briefly we all were able to collectively experience what boxing felt like 50 to 100 years ago. A time when Dempsey took on Tunney at Soldier Field or when Ali fought Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle. Unfortunately, nothing lasts and the spectacle that was Mayweather V McGregor brought a circus with it.
Send in the Clowns -
The rise of youtube boxing and the proverbial clown car that has come with it has given boxing a, forgive me, black eye. It’s been made into a punchline and an Instagram gimmick. And for those that would say it has brought more “eyes” to the sport, I would say that the attention is short-lived. These people have come for the circus, not the sport, and the second the clowns go so too will the circus goers. This is nothing new either. The kayfabe of the carnival is an age-old con perfected by the PT Barnums of the world. Call them snowmen, hustlers, or conmen it makes no difference - all of them are just emptying your wallet while giving you a show. The mid-90s and early 2000s even saw a rise in “celebrity boxing” with the likes of Danny Bonaduce, Vanilla Ice, and Tonya Harding taking the ring.
These kids are just the new iteration of the same old con - all that’s different is the media.
But this isn’t about roided-out Disney kids “fighting” retired wrestlers. This is about actual boxing. Heavyweight destroyers and lightweight savants. You wouldn’t know it but as mentioned previously the last ten years have seen some of the best boxing since the 1980s. From the Ukrainian phenom Lomencheko to the Mexican superstar Canelo, to the enigmatic gypsy ringmaster that is Tyson Fury, boxing isn’t short on talent. The welterweight division is arguably better now than during Mayweather’s reign, with fighters like the aforementioned Terrance “BUD” Crawford and my personal favorite Errol Spence.
Lightweight has a roster so deep there aren’t enough belts to go around - with Lopez, Kambosos, Haney, Loma, Davis, and more. And even the big boys are worth paying attention to. Usyk defied the odds making the jump from cruiser to heavyweight and is looking unstoppable. Fury’s dominance looms over the division after his so-called retirement and Ruiz keeps looking scarier and scarier. Most importantly all of them WANT to fight each other. No one’s ducking no one. 20 years ago Canelo never fights GGG, let alone three different times. Not because he wouldn’t want to but because someone wouldn’t let it happen. A promoter, a suit, a manager - someone protecting their bottom line. That seems to be gone now. The suits have been silenced or they felt the fire lit by mixed martial arts. Whatever the reason, these days, boxers are taking risk over reward. Legacy outweighing the allure of any showtime deal. The fans have proven they don’t give a damn if you are undefeated they give a damn if you fight the best. The greats are driven to fight the greats and the people want to see it. Mayweather V McGregor may have brought the clowns but it also proved something undeniable. The masses want it. The people want to see the best fight the best and the fighters need the answer. They have to know - am I the conqueror or the conquered?
Without the answer to that question, some men can’t live. It is why men enter a boxing gym, climb mountains, and erect skyscrapers.
“When I’m dead, and gone, and nothing - how will I be remembered?”
We all desire legacy. Whether that be the legacy of living honestly or of living violently. Violence is rarely beautiful. Violence is mostly terrible and brutal and sad. But those who execute it with grace and in sport deserve reverence. That artistry was on display Sunday, September 4th when Andy “The Destroyer” Ruiz took on the dangerous Cuban Southpaw Luis “King Kong” Ortiz. Andy Ruiz is a destroyer. True to his nickname. But to the point of this piece unless you spend your days talking shit at your local boxing gym you probably haven’t heard of him. Ruiz is best known for decrowning Anthony Joshua and proving to the world that the British golden boy was far from untouchable. His opponent, Ortiz, is a war horse with a 300-fight amateur record and has been in the squared circle for almost as long as I've been alive. He’s a crafty southpaw with vicious power who was the first to touch-up Deyontay Wilder before Wilder was exposed by Tyson Fury. Going into that Sunday night at Crypto.com Arena (cough Staples Center) the two were poised for a heavyweight battle of serious note.
So why then?
When the final bell rang, why were we left wanting?
Hell, I don’t know. Maybe social media and the attention economy have rotted our brains. Maybe the beautiful violence of MMA has left us desensitized and continuously waiting for a highlight knockout. Maybe the clowns won and we are starved for the drama. Or Maybe we expected Ruiz to walk right through Ortiz, and if we did we were fools. The reality is that the fight was good and fair and dramatic and that’s all it needed to be. Boxing doesn’t need to be MMA, it doesn’t need to be reality TV, and it doesnt need to be the circus. Boxing will endure the ebbs and flows of fandom, of carnival acts, and conmen, and competition. It always has and always will. Boxing doesn’t need to be dressed up or whored out -
