Boxing just can’t help itself. Every time the sport starts picking itself up, brushing off the dust, and looking respectable again, someone decides to drag it back into the mud. Case in point: Jake Paul vs. Gervonta “Tank” Davis on November 14 in Atlanta.
Yes, you read that right. Jake Paul — the internet sensation-turned-boxer who was supposedly in talks for a heavyweight clash with Anthony Joshua — is now set to meet Davis, the WBA lightweight champion who should be running it back with Lamont Roach Jr. Instead, the two are linking arms for a Netflix payday disguised as a “fight.”
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Let’s stop pretending. This isn’t boxing. It’s a cash grab with gloves.
The spin is predictable: Paul brings eyeballs, Davis brings credibility, and together they’ll create a “cultural event.” Sure. And WWE creates extravaganzas every April called WrestleMania. At least they’re honest about it.
The weight disparity alone makes this farce laughable. Paul is a cruiserweight masquerading as a pugilist, while Davis is a lightweight with dynamite in his fists but no business sharing the ring with someone eight weight classes bigger. So what’s the workaround? Easy. Call it an “exhibition,” and suddenly all those pesky commission regulations don’t matter. You can almost hear the rulebook being shredded in the background.
Ever since Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Conor McGregor hoodwinked the world in 2017, promoters and even governing bodies have been addicted to these sideshows. The money’s too good, and the spectacle is too irresistible. But at least “Money May” was at the twilight of his career, playing a victory lap for nine figures. Davis is in his prime. He’s supposed to be the guy carrying boxing forward — not moonlighting in Paul’s clown show.
And that’s the real tragedy here. The sport has been clawing back momentum. Saudi Arabia’s Turki Al-Sheikh and his Riyadh Season project have been giving us genuine blockbusters: the best fighting the best, champions settling scores, a sense that boxing might actually be serious again. Then along comes Paul vs. Davis to remind us that, no, boxing can still be the world’s most self-sabotaging sport.
Will they throw punches? Of course. Will someone get buzzed? Probably. But let’s not confuse violence with validity. This isn’t about legacy. It’s about Netflix streams, merchandise sales, and two men cashing checks so fat they’ll need wheelbarrows.
Boxing fans deserve better than freak shows wrapped in satin robes. Prospects grinding in gyms across the world deserve better. Champions waiting on unifications deserve better. And the sport itself — battered, mocked, and barely hanging on to its dignity — deserves a whole lot better.
So yes, Paul vs. Davis will trend. It’ll dominate social media. It’ll sell tickets. But don’t kid yourself. This isn’t the sweet science. It’s sweet poison.
And every sip drags boxing closer to the abyss.
(For comments or questions, reach the author at nissi.icasiano@gmail.com or visit his Facebook page at www.facebook.com/nissi.icasiano.)
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