The air in my room is humid and a bit stale as I sit here, just finished crumpling a sandwich wrapper into a forlorn papier-mâché ball in the corner. Anyway, welcome back—or maybe it’s more like “hello” depending on how long you’ve been around—to another roller coaster ride through Magno’s Bulging Mail Sack over at FightHype. This little ritual of ours seems to have a knack for poking bears and making waves, but hey, that’s what makes life spicy, right? Today’s cocktail includes some musings on Eubank-Benn and the ongoing saga we call boxing media.
First off, a nod to a reader named Mo stirred some mental soup for me.
“Hey, Paul,” Mo starts, probably typing with that kind of grim determination people have when they’re trying to untangle Christmas lights. It’s clear Mo’s pondering a real head-scratcher about this idea that no one’s figured out how to make money doing decent boxing journalism. Makes sense if you think about it. If true journalism’s as dead as disco, is the scene the best it’s got? It’s like expecting gourmet cuisine at a gas station. Or am I being too cynical?
Diving in deeper, Mo intelligently points out how other sports like baseball and football have turned their passion into serious businesses. But boxing? It’s like we’re the oddball uncle at the family reunion, everyone loves us, but no one’s lining up to start a business with us. So while everyone’s out there eating caviar, boxing media’s still munching on day-old biscuits, I guess.
And then he hits on something real though—how some journalists might prefer their small slice of stale pie to sharing a bigger tasty one in a cooperative. Because, oh boy, the idea of sharing, right? Bit of a unicorn concept! Anyway, Mo paints this cool vision of a world where you’d have something like a superhero association for struggling ex-fighters. Compare it to the Hero Initiative in comics, and it’s a dream, a beautiful “what if.”
So anyway, let’s pretend we’re just two pals sipping watery coffee at a diner, talking this out. I think there’s juice in the idea of a truly independent boxing media right now. Like a fresh-squeezed OJ kind of juice, not that boxed nonsense. Fans right now are drowning in fluff, and maybe—just maybe—they’d latch onto some raw no-holds-barred coverage. The problem? Well, it’s a multi-headed monster, isn’t it? Launching this wouldn’t just be flipping a switch. We’d have to practically wrestle the ‘establishment’ coz these behemoths like things just the way they are, thank you very much. We’d be the pesky mosquito in their perfectly temperature-controlled room.
And if you want a real kicker, check out how these bigshots lately only seem to care about the size of their wallets, and not the stories behind the ink. No wonder everyone feels stiffed. I’m working on this pipe dream to rally independent voices. Tried before, fizzled quicker than a cheap firework. Bummer. You got any leads, let me know, but don’t hold your breath.
Anyway, transitioning like a DJ with one earphone half-off (yeah, smooth, right?), Dennis drops a line about the upcoming Eubank Jr. and Conor Benn clash. Before I spill my thoughts, just know—even contemplating this match gives me a headache like rush-hour traffic. Why, you ask? Frankly, it seems more about spectacle than sport. If Saturday’s got me folding laundry and simmering pasta, I might skip it unless someone offers me popcorn. Listen, Eubank likely has the edge, but this fight already smells like a perfectly crafted controversy—pushed to set up a double-dip payday via rematch. Boxing sure can be poetic with its nonsense sometimes.
Feel like chattin’ or scolding me about these ramblings? Go ahead, toss in your two cents over at Magno’s Bulging Mail Sack at FightHype—where the sass meets the sport.
