On one coast was Shakur Stevenson, the undefeated WBC lightweight champion and former Olympic medalist, fighting in his hometown of Newark, New Jersey, live on ESPN with Joe Tessitore ready to soundtrack a spectacular knockout.
This was the future of boxing.
On the other coast was a pair of former mixed martial arts fighters, each in their late 40s, trying to rekindle a rivalry (or at least cash a check) that began in the UFC half a decade ago. Except now it was a boxing ring.
Nate Diaz came into the fight in Anaheim, California, and aired on pay-per-view with an 0-1 record as a professional boxer, the loss coming to former YouTube star Jake Paul. Jorge Masvidal had a 1-0 record, but that win came 19 years ago. Was this real?
This was what bothered boxing.
One was boring, in front of a crowd that did not fill the stadium, with fans booing and even coming out in the final rounds due to lack of action.
The other was a raucous and wild scene, with two fighters trying to take each other down, exchanging multi-punch combos and leaving the crowd that filled the venue screaming.
Even if you didn’t see one or both, if you know anything about the current state of boxing, you can probably determine which was which.
Look, this isn’t a column that says “boxing is dead.” Boxing is never dead. Bad, boring fights can happen to anyone at any time. There are plenty of talented and exciting boxers out there, including the 27-year-old Stevenson. It’s always about a great rivalry or some big, charismatic stars who have re-emerged.
That said, Saturday was a tough night in a series of tough nights.
Diaz and Masvidal proved once again why they were capable of attempting to stage their own fight (it was co-promoted by Diaz’s Real Fight Inc. and Masvidal’s Gamebred Boxing), let alone drawing more than 18,000 people to the Honda Center. They fought, they took risks and they entertained.
In total, they threw 1,394 punches (720 from Diaz, who beat Masvidal on the judges’ scorecards) in a frenetic back-and-forth fight in which no one dared look away. Stevenson and Artem Harutyunyan threw just 869 punches in total (446 from Stevenson, who also won on the scorecards) as each corner implored their men to let go.
Stevenson is a far superior boxer to Diaz: in fact, he landed more punches (170 against 151) simply by choosing his striking points. However, that is not always the goal.
At some point a fight is a fight, even if skill level and championship aren’t really at stake.
Diaz and Masvidal know how to do it. It’s why they have a long-standing fan base, it’s why they attract celebrities to their events, it’s why the whole night on the sidelines somehow worked. made works.
Both wanted to knock each other out and were willing to dare to try. It wasn’t always that way with Stevenson.
In the end, if you tuned into both, there was no debate about which was better, let alone which you would be more willing to pay for in the future.
For Diaz, this was a revitalization of a career that could have ended in defeat. Yet he remains popular for one reason: the authenticity of his personality and the ability to generate some emotion (which seemed to be missing when he said he lacked motivation against Paul).
Maybe there will be a rematch with Paul. Or maybe there will still be the Conor McGregor trilogy in the UFC. Or maybe something else.
For Stevenson, there will be many more WBC lightweight title defenses and fights. He isn’t going anywhere, but this was a real opportunity for him personally and for traditional boxing in general.
The sports calendar was sparse on Saturday night and ESPN did everything it could to try and build up the fight and a potential star. This was an opportunity to sell Stevenson to a mainstream audience, with some highlights to be broadcast on social media.
Instead, the fighter was left trying to ignore the boos from the bored crowd, saying they were for Harutyunyan, whom he felt was overprotective.
“It’s hard to prove yourself if you don’t have a fighter trying to fight back,” Stevenson said. “He’s just trying to survive.”
Stevenson is philosophically right, but how much should that matter to fans? It doesn’t matter exactly who the fans’ frustration was directed at. It was a reasonable response to what was happening, or more importantly, what wasn’t happening.
For old-school boxing fans who deserve better, the fight in Newark was expected to showcase what the sport is supposed to be about, a far cry from the supposed sideshow in California.
The thing is, sideshows can be a lot of fun, especially when Nate Diaz is once again the ring leader.