Sometimes I genuinely wish I knew less about boxing.
That’s a strange thing to admit when you’ve spent years following the sport, learning how it works and becoming fascinated by everything that happens both inside and outside the ring.
I love understanding boxing.
I love knowing why fights get made, why they don’t get made, how promotional relationships work, what mandatory positions mean and how one result can completely change the direction of a fighter’s career.
But there are nights when I wish I could forget all of it.
Because there was once a time when watching boxing was wonderfully simple.
You put the television on.
Two fighters walked to the ring.
You watched them fight.
Then you went to bed.
Become one of those obsessive boxing fans, however, and eventually you stop watching only the fight in front of you.
You’re watching the next fight as well.
You’re thinking about rankings, promotional contracts, purse splits, broadcasters, sanctioning bodies, mandatory challengers and what victory or defeat means for both fighters.
You hear an exciting fight being discussed and instead of getting excited, experience immediately tells you why it probably won’t happen.
And sometimes I wonder whether knowing too much about boxing can actually make it harder to enjoy.
I Miss When a Fight Was Just a Fight
I can remember watching boxing without needing to understand everything surrounding it.
Of course I knew who the fighters were. I understood championships and rankings. I had favourites and I cared who won.
But I wasn’t constantly calculating what every result meant.
Now I can be watching somebody and thinking:
Right, if he wins this, he’ll probably get the title fight.
Then:
If he loses, where does he go?
Then:
He’s taking too many shots here.
Then:
Don’t get hurt.
Before you know it, you’re barely watching a boxing match anymore.
You’re mentally managing someone’s career.
That’s what years of following the inner workings of boxing can do to boxing fans.
Every fight becomes part of something bigger.
That knowledge can make boxing fascinating.
It can also make fight night bloody exhausting.
You Hear a Great Fight Mentioned and Already Know It Probably Won’t Happen
This might be the biggest difference between being a casual boxing fan and somebody who has followed the business for years.
Two fighters mention each other’s names.
Immediately, people start getting excited.
And you’re sitting there thinking:
Yeah, that’s never happening.
Not because it wouldn’t be a brilliant fight.
Usually, that’s precisely why everybody wants it.
But you start doing the boxing politics in your head.
Different promoters.
Different broadcasters.
Different sanctioning bodies.
One fighter has a mandatory due.
The other has contractual obligations.
Someone wants the bigger purse.
Someone wants their name first on the poster.
Someone wants home advantage.
Someone has an option on another fight.
Someone decides the risk isn’t worth the reward.
There are occasions when boxing fans can almost predict the collapse of a potential fight before negotiations have properly started.
That’s knowledge you can’t unlearn.
The casual fan hears two great fighters discussing fighting each other and thinks:
I’d love to see that.
The experienced fan thinks:
I’d love to see that, but there’s absolutely no chance all these people agree.
And that’s sad.
Because anticipation is supposed to be part of sport.
Boxing has trained some of its most dedicated followers not to believe anything until both fighters are standing in the ring.
Knowing Boxing Politics Can Ruin the Fantasy
There are two completely different things to understand in boxing.
There’s the sport.
And there’s the business.
Understanding the sport makes watching it infinitely better.
The more you learn about distance, timing, footwork, feints, positioning, defence and adjustments, the more you see.
A casual viewer might see a quiet round.
An experienced boxing fan might see one fighter gradually taking away the other’s jab, changing the distance and setting something up that eventually pays off three rounds later.
That’s brilliant.
It’s one of the rewards for following boxing for years.
Understanding the business can have precisely the opposite effect.
Suddenly you know why the obvious fight might not happen.
You know why a boxer is protecting a particular ranking.
You understand why somebody doesn’t want to risk their mandatory position.
You know why a promoter might prefer an easier opponent before a bigger event.
You understand why broadcasters matter.
You know why the champion standing in the ring with a belt around their waist might not necessarily be universally recognised as the best fighter in the division.
Sometimes knowledge doesn’t give you a greater appreciation of boxing.
Sometimes it simply shows you how unnecessarily complicated boxing has become.
Sometimes I Want to Be the Casual Fan Again
There are genuinely occasions when I envy people who only watch the biggest fights.
They aren’t worrying about what happens next.
They aren’t thinking about sanctioning fees.
They don’t care which promoter represents whom.
They aren’t checking whether a mandatory has been called.
They probably couldn’t tell you why the WBA has made a particular decision, and frankly, there are days when I wish I couldn’t either.
They just watch the fight.
Imagine that.
A Saturday night where the bell rings and your only concern is what happens between the two fighters standing in front of you.
There is something incredibly appealing about that.
I wouldn’t actually trade everything I’ve learnt about boxing to have it back.
But I’d occasionally like to borrow that version of being a boxing fan for an evening.
Every Fight Starts Feeling Like a Career Referendum
This is another thing that happens when you’ve followed fighters and their careers closely.
You stop seeing individual contests.
You start seeing consequences.
A young prospect isn’t simply fighting.
You’re watching to see whether they’re ready for the next level.
A contender isn’t simply fighting.
You’re wondering whether defeat sends them back to the end of the queue.
An ageing former champion isn’t simply fighting.
You’re wondering whether this is the night when their career effectively ends.
And sometimes you’re not even enjoying the fight because you’re worried about the fighter.
Don’t get hurt.
I find myself thinking that far more than I probably should.
Especially when you’ve followed someone’s career for years.
You understand what another damaging defeat could mean. You know how difficult boxing careers can become once the losses start accumulating. You know that the fighter’s instinct will almost always be to continue.
So while somebody else is enjoying a dramatic exchange, experienced boxing fans can find themselves thinking about the consequences of those punches.
Once you’ve learnt enough about boxing, it’s difficult to see punches as simply entertainment.
You Start Watching the Judges as Much as the Fighters
Then there are the scorecards.
A close fight should be exciting.
Instead, sometimes the final bell goes and you immediately feel nervous.
Not because you don’t know who won.
Because you think you do know who won and you’re waiting to discover whether three people sitting at ringside saw the same thing.
You’ve watched enough boxing to know that strange scorecards happen.
You’ve learnt how fights are supposed to be scored.
You’ve probably scored the rounds yourself.
So instead of enjoying the conclusion, you’re mentally running through your card while somebody reads three sets of numbers into a microphone.
Even during the fight you can find yourself thinking:
The judges might like that.
Or:
He’s fighting well, but is he doing enough to win these rounds away from home?
Again, you’re no longer simply watching two fighters.
You’re watching the entire boxing machine operating around them.
Then There Are the Belts
Nothing destroys simplicity quite like trying to explain boxing’s championship system.
WBA.
WBC.
IBF.
WBO.
Then mandatory challengers, interim champions, eliminators, unification fights and undisputed champions.
You can have somebody introduced as a world champion while knowledgeable boxing fans are immediately qualifying what kind of world champion they actually are.
Yes, he’s world champion, but…
There shouldn’t need to be a ‘but’.
Yet boxing has created a system where there usually is.
A casual fan sees somebody holding a world championship belt.
They think they’re watching the world champion.
There are times when I genuinely envy that simplicity.
Boxing Fans Can Become Impossible to Please
There is another side to this argument, though.
We can’t blame boxing for everything.
Sometimes we do it to ourselves.
I’ve previously written about why boxing fans can become almost impossible to please, and perhaps knowing too much contributes to that problem:
The more boxing fans understand, the more conditions we attach to being impressed.
Someone wins, but apparently they fought the wrong opponent.
Someone becomes world champion, but it was the wrong belt.
Someone produces a brilliant performance, but we immediately ask how they’d cope against somebody else.
A prospect dominates and we’re already finding flaws that might become a problem five fights down the line.
A brilliant fight ends and within minutes we’re discussing what it means for somebody’s pound-for-pound position.
We’re constantly looking ahead.
Sometimes so far ahead that we forget to appreciate what we’ve just watched.
Social Media Has Turned Every Fight Into an Argument
Social media has amplified all of this.
There was once a time when you watched boxing with whoever happened to be in the room.
You disagreed about a round.
You argued for five minutes.
Then the next round started.
Now thousands of boxing fans are scoring the fight simultaneously while arguing about every punch.
Someone has it 4-0.
Someone else has it 2-2.
Someone thinks the commentary is biased.
Someone thinks the referee is biased.
Someone thinks the judges are already preparing the robbery.
Someone has decided a fighter is finished despite the fight not actually being finished.
Then the final bell rings and everybody immediately starts arguing about the scorecards.
Sometimes we’re so busy discussing boxing that I’m not entirely convinced we’re actually enjoying boxing.
The Strange Thing Is, I Love Knowing How Boxing Works
Here’s where the whole argument becomes contradictory.
I love the inner workings of boxing.
I wouldn’t have spent years learning about them otherwise.
There is something fascinating about understanding how the sport operates.
Promoters, managers, sanctioning bodies, broadcasters, rankings and negotiations are all part of professional boxing whether we like it or not.
Understanding them allows you to see through some of the nonsense.
When somebody makes a claim about why a fight can’t happen, you can assess whether that explanation actually makes sense.
When a sanctioning body makes a decision, you understand the implications.
When a promoter starts talking about someone’s next three fights, you can usually work out what they’re trying to achieve.
That knowledge is fascinating.
It’s also the problem.
Because you can’t switch it off.
Once you know how the sausage is made, it’s difficult to sit there and simply enjoy the sausage.
Probably not the greatest boxing analogy I’ve ever written, but you get the point.
Knowing More About Boxing Changes What You’re Watching
Perhaps that’s really what happens.
You don’t necessarily enjoy boxing less.
You’re simply watching a different sport from the one you originally fell in love with.
When you first become a fan, you watch what happens inside the ropes.
After years of following boxing, you’re watching everything surrounding them as well.
You’re watching the fight.
You’re watching the referee.
You’re thinking about the judges.
You’re considering the rankings.
You’re wondering about the mandatory.
You’re thinking about what victory means.
You’re worrying about what defeat means.
You’re already considering the next opponent.
And occasionally you’re wondering whether that next opponent will actually happen because you know the promotional politics involved.
That’s an enormous amount of baggage to bring into a boxing match.
Sometimes I Just Want to Put the Television On and Watch Boxing
That’s probably what I miss most.
Not ignorance.
Simplicity.
I sometimes wish I could go back to putting the television on and watching whatever fight happened to be there.
No thoughts about what happens next.
No calculations about rankings.
No wondering whether the winner will actually get the fight they’ve been promised.
No worrying that one defeat will derail someone’s career.
No analysing whether the scorecards are about to produce another controversy.
Just boxing.
Two fighters in a ring trying to beat each other.
I don’t want to know less about the sport.
I’ve spent too long learning about boxing to genuinely want that.
But occasionally I’d love to be able to forget what I know for one Saturday night.
Because knowledge undoubtedly makes you appreciate boxing more deeply.
I’m just not convinced it always makes boxing more enjoyable.
And perhaps that’s the strange price of becoming one of those obsessive boxing fans who fell in love with the sport enough to want to understand absolutely everything about it.
Eventually, you understand so much that you sometimes miss the days when you understood almost nothing.
Has Knowing More About Boxing Changed How You Watch It?
I’d be interested to know whether other boxing fans feel the same way.
Do you enjoy boxing more now that you understand the tactics, politics and business behind it? Or are there nights when you wish you could forget the sanctioning bodies, promoters, rankings and future fights and simply enjoy what’s happening in the ring?
Share your thoughts in the comments and join the discussion.
And if you enjoy boxing opinion, analysis, history and the conversations that go beyond simply reporting who won and who lost, head over to CMBoxing and explore more from the site.