Jake Paul and DEI - a Metaphor
"Don't let your quest for attention be the bane of your future." Dr. BLR
Growing up in the 1960s, I was fortunate to watch heavyweight boxer Cassius Clay, aka Muhammad Ali, methodically defeat most of his opponents. Although he wasn’t my favorite, I was a fan of Ken Norton; Ali epitomized greatness. Their contemporaries included Joe Fraiser, George Foreman, and Larry Holmes, all of whom were at the top of their game.
Fast-forward to the 1980s and 1990s, when the likes of Mike Tyson, Riddick Bowe, and Evander Holyfield emerged. The speed, power, and prowess of the boxing profession accelerated. The path had been laid so that only the best of the best would prosper. Most of the champions during this period were Black Americans, and it remained that way for many years until the rise of the Ukrainian Klitschko brothers, who ruled the division for years until a white American, Tyson Fury, took over. He was grossly out of shape, yet he won his fights.
The boxing federations expanded, and championship belts multiplied, which meant you could have three or four heavyweight champions at once. And I won’t mention any of the lower weight divisions because that was a complete clusterfuck.
Shortly afterward, my love of boxing waned. The cost of pay-per-view fights was too high, and the eagerness among boxers to take a chance on a knockout disappeared, except for a few fighters. I got just as much satisfaction from watching the fight the day after it was uploaded to the internet.
Over the years, several fighters retired only to unretire and box again. Their actions sparked the YouTube era of influencers throwing their hats into the ring, trying to draw some of these fighters into a staged pay-for-play fight. On the surface, it was a mere exhibition fight that gave enthusiasts something to do on a weekend. Again, I waited until the next day to see who had won.
I didn’t appreciate this form of entertainment because I thought it cheapened the sport. That was until YouTube influencer Jake Paul started calling out some retired fighters. I can’t say I knew much about him, because I didn’t find any of this new-generation entertainment appealing. Apparently, he made his name influencing young people and became one of the richest YouTubers before transitioning into the boxing sphere. Why, I have no idea. He was already wealthy, but greedy people can’t help themselves.
Paul won a few fights before suffering his first loss, then went on to face former MMA fighters and a basketball player who needed a kidney. He ultimately pulled out a unanimous decision against Mike Tyson in what was believed to be a fixed fight. I will reserve comment because I didn’t actually watch it. He amassed a 12-2 professional record. However, at some point, a person must know their limitations and realize that the prospect of being the next “Great White Hope” is futile when the most competent don’t look like them. Paul’s inclusion in this arena didn’t serve him well in his last fight against Anthony Joshua, a Black two-time unified world heavyweight champion.
The fight was on Netflix, which I have, but I wasn’t aware of the event date. Still, I couldn’t see Joshua putting his reputation on the line for a quick payday. He is still a young man capable of regaining his status in the heavyweight division. As always, I watched the fight the day after and was pleased with its outcome. Paul ventured into an arena where he may have thought he was the most qualified, but he got his ass handed to him, with a broken jaw to boot.
At this point, I am going to call it like I see it. Paul was a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) opponent in a sport dominated by Black and Hispanic fighters. He has a large following, I think mainly white, so he probably believed he would dominate and take over. Slow your roll. He received his wake-up call, and I hope he retires from boxing and sticks to YouTube and gaining more followers.
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