The Anti-American Bias Of American Boxing Fans

These days, the American boxing fan ain’t so “American.”

There was a time when the “USA, USA, USA” chants would fill an arena like a wave of red, white, and blue energy whenever an American pug would engage in battle with a foreigner on American soil.

Back in the day, Joe Louis became an American hero in the oppressive days of Jim Crow when he avenged his loss to Germany’s Max Schmeling as World War II brewed in the background. Fast forward a few decades and these same American fans might be more likely to support Schmelling, delivering fawning praise of his awesomeness through pound-for-pound top dog status and endless social media salad tossing.

That’s just the reality of what the American boxing scene has become– a land where the home fighters are, more often than not, treated like the visitors and obstacles to acceptance and respect are continuously stacked before them.

American Fight Fans, Hating On Their Own Fighters?

Let’s take the case of former WBC heavyweight champ Deonaty Wilder, for example.

There was almost jubilation when he took a beating and an “L” at the hands of the UK’s Tyson Fury. That celebration continued through his second loss to Fury and through his tepid decision defeat at the hands of Joseph Parker. Some American fans only started showing a degree of respect to Wilder after he got knocked out by China’s Zhilei Zhang and it became clear that he would no longer be a top-of-the-food-chain presence.

And although Wilder’s resume could be scrutinized and fairly criticized, the man really did nothing as a fighter to deserve the scorn he got. He fought, threw fists, and knocked people out– everything American fight fans used to demand of their heavyweight champs. Plus, he was the LAST of the American heavyweight champs.

Last July, a disturbingly large number of American boxing fans celebrated the brutal beatdowns of two top-rated American stars– Errol Spence and Stephen Fulton.

Spence was topped by fellow American Terence Crawford, but the loss was celebrated by many as if a dastardly foreign invader had just been humbled by an All-American hero. The affable Spence, who had unified three of the four recognized world titles in the welterweight division and had fought all of the other top 147-pounders leading up to this big-ticket clash, was treated as a heel, well-deserving of a comeuppance.

Fulton, meanwhile, did what fans always claim to want from their stars– he went into a dominant champion’s back yard and dared to be great by going after the very best. But when he was put down by Japan’s ultra-elite Naoya Inoue, he was treated as if he were some sort of bumbling bum. Fulton was not as accomplished or as well-known as Spence, but he got the same nasty backlash from his home country fans.

Gervonta “Tank” Davis does nothing but put on shows, knock opponents out, and exist as the growing grassroots star boxing fans and the boxing intelligentsia always claim to crave. However, the lead-in to any Tank Davis fight is overrun by criticisms and general laments, while the aftermath of a usually scintillating performance is loaded with dismissals and then the doggedly tilted “This PPV was a commercial flop” narrative.

We could go on and on with examples of American fighters being buried by American fans.

Latino fighters are often partially exempt from this scorn, but not always. For example, there’s the dim-witted offensive on David Benavidez, making the bone-headed claim that he’s the one actually avoiding a Canelo Alvarez bout, not Alvarez.

Why The Hate?

 

There are several theories as to why US boxing fans are willing and almost eager to bury their own.

Race could play a factor. It would be absolutely naive to dismiss the impact of race in a sport with a long history of race baiting and racial antagonism. Even in this modern post-civil rights era, where racism is more covert than overt, the undertones are there. Black fighters who don’t just shut up and punch and who don’t follow a traditional business/career path, catch an angry backlash. They are judged more harshly for the same actions that non-black and less “uppity” blacks engage in.

Inactivity is judged as laziness and “ducking,” while there are always “he’s injured” or “it’s the business’ fault” excuses teed up to justify the same inactivity in others. A “boxer” is a “runner” if he’s African American, but he’s a “brilliant tactician” if he’s someone else. An all-action KO artist is a skill-less brute if he’s African American, but he’s an electrifying, all-action banger if he’s someone else. Gervonta Davis’ domestic abuse accusations brought about calls for him to be banned and for boxing to “do something.” Dmitry Bivol’s domestic abuse accusations, meanwhile, couldn’t be buried fast enough.

The racism charge is a tough pill to swallow. But this is, after all, the same sport where American Hero, Joe Louis, was forced to adhere to a guideline on being a “good negro.”

Another factor in all of this may be boxing business related.

It doesn’t take much investigation to see that those American fighters targeted for the most scorn all fight (or have fought) under the Premier Boxing Champions (PBC) banner. The Al Haymon-conceived boxing company just happens to work with most of the top American talents. So, much of the hate directed PBC’s way for disrupting the status quo of the boxing business and for challenging the old guard of traditional protocol, gets passed off to the public representation of the company– the fighters.

PBC is also a black-owned business, so, once again, racial bias can’t be entirely dismissed.

Maybe this lack of American support for American fighters comes down to something as simple as the American boxing fan being jaded, complacent, and easy to be led into cynicism regarding their own product.

Whatever the case, whatever the reason, it’s an irrefutable truth that American fans are not as supportive of American fighters as they should be.

There’s no simple fix for this. Confronting this issue head-on only results in a comeback flurry of excuses and “yeah, but” justifications. Maybe losing even more of their foothold as leaders in the boxing business– and losing more fights overseas– will help American fight fans realize that needlessly burying their own stars is not a great idea.