There’s a way boxing should feel when a heavyweight fight is announced: anticipation, debate, curiosity.
Deontay Wilder vs Derek Chisora produces none of that.
Strip away the marketing noise and what’s left is uncomfortable. This isn’t a fight built on momentum, rankings, or relevance. It’s a fight built on names — and names alone. That’s why Wilder Chisora fight criticism isn’t negativity for the sake of it; it’s a necessary conversation about where heavyweight boxing keeps going wrong.
Because this isn’t nostalgia. And it certainly isn’t progress.
This Isn’t a Heavyweight Contender Fight — It’s a Name Fight
Let’s start with Derek Chisora.
Chisora is approaching his 50th professional bout. That alone tells a story. He’s been in wars, sold tickets, and entertained fans — but his career has been defined by brave losses rather than meaningful wins. He’s failed repeatedly at British title level and has never seriously positioned himself as a world champion threat.
That’s not disrespect. That’s reality.
And yet, here he is again — not because he’s earned a final run, but because he’s familiar. Boxing keeps recycling him because it knows exactly what it’s getting: toughness, noise, and a marketable backstory. Sporting logic doesn’t enter the equation.
Wilder Hasn’t Been Elite for Years — We Need to Stop Pretending Otherwise
Now let’s talk about Deontay Wilder.
This is where the Wilder Chisora fight criticism really sharpens.
Wilder hasn’t looked like an elite heavyweight since his losses to Tyson Fury — and even then, the cracks were already there. Once the aura of the right hand disappeared, so did the mystique.
Since then:
- Beaten comfortably by Joseph Parker
- Stopped by Zhilei Zhang
- Looked slower, flatter, and mentally absent
This isn’t a temporary dip. This is decline.
Yet boxing insists on framing Wilder as a “dangerous comeback story” because it’s easier than admitting the obvious: he’s no longer part of the heavyweight future.
Selling Decline as Drama Is Boxing’s Favourite Trick
This is the real problem.
Rather than being honest, boxing markets these fights as:
- “One last run”
- “A clash of warriors”
- “High-risk entertainment”
But what it’s really doing is selling decline as drama.
There’s nothing nostalgic about two fighters well past their best being thrown together because the division doesn’t want to make hard decisions. This fight doesn’t elevate contenders. It doesn’t clarify rankings. It doesn’t move the heavyweight picture forward.
It simply fills a slot.
And that’s why Wilder Chisora fight criticism matters — because these fights don’t exist in isolation. They crowd out opportunities for younger heavyweights who actually need exposure, development, and meaningful matchmaking.
Heavyweight Boxing Keeps Eating Its Own Future
Every time boxing books a fight like this, it sends the same message:
We trust old names more than new ideas.
Instead of investing in emerging contenders, the division keeps circling back to familiar faces because they’re “safe”. But safe fights don’t build eras — they stall them.
Heavyweight boxing doesn’t have a talent shortage. It has a courage shortage at matchmaking level.
And fans feel it.
This Isn’t About Disrespect — It’s About Honesty
This isn’t an attack on Wilder or Chisora as people. They’ve both earned money, respect, and careers most fighters never get close to.
But boxing owes fans honesty.
Call this fight what it is:
- A cash-out
- A nostalgia sell
- A marketing exercise
Not a meaningful heavyweight event.
Over to You
Is this harmless entertainment — or another example of boxing refusing to let go of the past?
That’s the debate worth having.
Drop your thoughts in the comments, share this with another boxing fan who’s tired of recycled matchups, and head over to CMBoxing for more unfiltered boxing opinion that doesn’t dress decline up as progress.
Because if we don’t question fights like this, boxing will keep serving them up — and pretending it’s what we asked for.