When Sports Become Bigger

In the weeks leading up to this fight between Anthony Joshua and Jake Paul, I was wondering if I would speak on the entire ordeal. Not that anyone would want to hear my take, but I just felt compelled to write on it.

On my platform, I have already spoken about my experiences in martial arts and combat sports in my own series.

(Psst… if you are interested, please go check those essays out.)

I didn’t know what to say or even what to add to the conversation that wasn’t just my initial thoughts of a Joshua victory. An Olympic medalist and Former Heavyweight Champion going against a YouTuber turned boxer didn’t sound like a very competitive affair.

But as the days drew closer, I had to be honest with myself that it was more than just facts and logic that brought me to my decision. It was a desire to see Joshua claim victory.

Don’t let me be misunderstood, I don’t hate Jake Paul. I don’t even know the guy personally to carry such a strong sentiment about him. And even I am old enough to know and understand that one’s persona on social media doesn’t equate to their everyday countenance.

My desire to see Anthony Joshua claim a sound victory was rooted in the fact that this fight encapsulated our culture entirely.

For all of Joshua’s technical flaws, perhaps lapses in where he ranks in the conversation of best in the world, he is still a man who has paid his dues.

• Olympic Gold medalist, 2012
• Silver at the World Championships, 2011
• 2x ABA Championships, 2010, 2011
• 2x Heavyweight Champion, 2017–2019, 2019–2021

Jake Paul, on the other hand, has surprised people in the ring and in training with his dedication and drive, but even then, the gap was too much for people to perceive him as worthy of a shot at genuine bona fide champions and former champions.

But he got the opportunity anyway.

Jake Paul and Anthony Joshua both live in a time where fame and wealth are what decide the opportunities given, not your record, resume, and skillset.

Both men reside in a culture where the wealthy can be given “expert status.”

Where the seasoned journalist or academic can sit across from the influencer on networks. I am no fan of elitism, but at times, the influencer illustrates their professional disadvantages, proving why there is a boundary and distinction in the first place.

Where the reality star believes he is qualified to be president.

And yes, in this case, where the influencer can gain the opportunity to show off his skills against a world-class athlete, not in sparring but in a main event bout.

Sports can become a bigger expression than just the specific accolades and titles; they can allow us to see the world that we find ourselves living in. In the athletes’ stories, actions, and outcomes. And sometimes we may take a sigh of relief, or collect a gallon of sweat at what our eyes reveal.

An Artist’s Duty…

Nina Simone once said:

“You can’t help it. An artist’s duty, as far as I am concerned, is to reflect the times.”

Simone was articulating that more broadly, an artist has to be honest with themselves and let the world around them inform their work.

It may not necessarily be political inside and out, but it must touch upon the lived reality they and their other human beings face. Whether that be politically, religiously, socially, or in a relationship context. Nothing is off the table.

I make a strong argument that such words can also resonate deep within the athlete’s lived experience.

Their body and physique are housed in a society and social landscape that their silence or their success can propel forth narratives that can be utilized to endanger, uplift, and hold in solidarity.

Unfortunately, oftentimes, because sports and athletics call for more doing than speaking, the artist has a clear advantage. They can articulate their intentions and beliefs; they are expected to. Their answers need to clarify and put at ease the masses or powers that be, individually or simultaneously.

The athlete is never asked, so they either have to go out of their way to expose themselves or hope that the focus is placed selectively on their work in the ring, on the mat, in the field, or on the court.

Athletes often don’t choose, but are selected.

Muhammad Ali may be an exception, but Joe Louis was the norm. A Boxer who became a symbol of America’s fight against Nazi Germany.

Jackie Robinson may be the exception, but J.C. (Jesse) Owens was the norm. A track star who competed and defeated German sprinters and long jump competitors.

Athletes become symbols, many times without their consent, but they grow to accept the monikers and the standing they have if positive.

And if it’s negative, sometimes that in itself can be symbolic of sports being a bigger ramp to larger conversations.

The Upcoming Tate Bout

Andrew Tate and Chase DeMoor are scheduled to have a boxing match on December 20th, today, depending on when this essay is released.

I read a USA Today opinion piece, where the writer isn’t just hoping for a DeMoor victory, but an utter and total demolition of Tate in front of the world.

In the author’s view, a loss of this magnitude in the public eye would do more damage to the brand of the toxic masculinity that Tate has built over the past few years since the pandemic.

The author perhaps knows what we all know: it is futile to enter a debate to show the fealty, danger, and ridiculousness of his worldview.

There is no guarantee the courts will hold him accountable in the future. Especially when many have realized he and his brother, Tristan, may have strong connections to members of the Trump family.

So, to many eyes, the only path forward to show the absurdity and danger of such a figure is embarrassment in a field or endeavor that is a pillar to his ideology, combat.

We know not yet how this evening will go. But DeMoor, by some, has been elected a hero and a necessary dose of comeuppance for a man accused of horrible things and polluting the algorithms.

Fighting skill is irrelevant. Personal record no one is considering. The fight scheduled for tonight is being sold as a referendum on the Tate brand and the version of masculinity he has portrayed to the world.

If he wins, he will have another path to relevance.

If he loses, he may very well be ridiculed and reminded of how, despite his ideology and worldview, he wasn’t the stronger, more capable man.

Maybe It Is That Deep

Sports have always meant something more than just what happens on the court or on the field, or in the ring.

Often, it can be symbolic of things that the rest of us may be facing, wondering, or hoping someone speaks to.

The artist paints, writes, films, creates, dances, and exists in a world where it is expected for their work to be symbolic of something besides the medium.

But the athlete plays, performs, competes, and fights in the same historical, cultural, or social backdrop.

And in a time where everything feels political and we hope and desire that our values win out, even if we don’t have the billionaire backers, or right representatives in office, or the perfect nuanced representation on the screens, we look to the court, the field, and the ring for that visibility.

If we find ourselves viewing an individual who represents, supports, or embraces the totality of everything we are opposed to, we hope that the great equalizer of those listed places for athletic achievement to produce some humility and balance the scales of a society and culture that seems so topsy-turvy.

Because we know not how long before those values manifest in our everyday lives.