A generation ago, the sport of boxing was an art form instead of an afterthought. The name Vitali Klitschko would have had fans worshiping the fists that battered his competition. Floyd Mayweather Jr. would have been praised for his undefeated record instead of scorned for what he said about Jeremy Lin. The potential Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao fight in May would be receiving the hype that belongs to the NFL combine. And World Boxing Association commissioner Amir Khan would be the commissioner that we loved to hate instead of David Stern.
Today, boxing is a joke. A sport that has been predominantly banished from the mainstream. A faint shadow of the icons who once stood in its limelight. Long gone are the days of the glorified boxing champion. Muhammad Ali, Evandeer Holyfield, and Sugar Ray Leonard are all distant relics of the sport's past. The distinguished call, "Down goes Frazier!" is no longer synonymous with the knockout of heavyweight lore. And George Foreman is better known for selling grills than his career in the ring.
Surely the dead sport must have a murderer. A perpetrator responsible for taking the life of a sport that turned men into titans. Yet the culprit has not been found. There is not enough proof to convict a single victim. We don't know if boxing's killer acted alone, or if he had accomplices. The case of who killed boxing is so complicated, that both Gill Grissom and Catherine Willows both left C.S.I because they couldn't catch the culprit. Even though there are plenty of suspects.
Some say that mixed martial arts killed boxing in the dinning room with the lead pipe.
There is some reason to suspect mixed martial arts. MMA is the fastest growing sport in the country to date. The glorified of knockouts that made boxing memorable are combined with the subtly of submissions to produce jaw-dropping fights. Pitting boxing up against MMA is like putting the Nextel walkie talkie phone against an Iphone; both can take punishment, yet the IPhone can do more cool things than just be thrown at a wall and not break. Yet because it has yet to fully mature as a sport, MMA is not the sole killer of boxing.
Others say that the lack of U.S. star power killed boxing in the billiard room with the wrench.
Compared to the days of Ali, Holyfield, Frazier, and Leanord, boxing star power in the U.S. has burned out. The most recent iconic boxer was Mike Tyson; a man who, in his prime, was impetuous, had impregnable defense, and was ferocious. However, to put it kindly, iron Mike fell into the scrap heap of American culture. Tyson's name is like his former sport, once revered, but has since degenerated into a laughing stock. Sure the U.S. has Floyd Mayweather and his undefeated record, yet his struggle for relevance is painfully visible. Also, the heavyweight champion of the world, Vitali Klitschko, is from the Ukraine. No country will care about a sport it stinks in, and the U.S. stinks at boxing now.
Some suspect that the lack of safety killed boxing in the conservatory with the rope.
This theory is plausible, but the evidence is questionable. Of course boxers would have head problems after years worth of punching each other in the head. There is a fine line between safety and sports, and boxing is no more dangerous as the other sports that entertain us. America's favorite sport (football) is a collision sport that produce dozens of concussions a year. The most watched sport in the country (NASCAR) gets its shock value from cartoonish car pileups. Yet the athletes who sign the contracts to fight are knowingly putting themselves in that position despite the risks. That is common sense and a shame. But if they weren't prepared for the consequences, they wouldn't fight in the first place.
Some people claim that Don King and his hair killed boxing in the study with the revolver.
King promoted some of the most prominent fighters in the history of boxing. He paired together the legendary fight between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier for the "Thrilla in Minilla.' King reaped the huge financial gains of Alli v Frazier and went on to promote boxing icons over the course of two decades. The noteworthy names King has built up includes Larry Holmes, Bernard Hopkins, Julio Cesar Chavez, Ricardo Lopez, and plenty more.
But a man who did so much for the sport also soiled his own talent pool, as well as his own good name. Ali, Tyson, Holmes, Terry Norris, Lennox Lewis, and Tim Witherspoon all sued King. Many of these lawsuits were based on claims that King did not pay his athletes enough. King's name was also defaced by two murders. The first in 1954 when he shot Hillary Brown. The second in 1966 when Sam Garret died after a fight with King. The promoter both built up boxing and mutilated its good name simultaneously.
Every one of these suspects has at least one fingerprint on the knife that murdered boxing. All four of the aforementioned suspects belong on the prison line. Yet because of circumstantial evidence, these suspects cannot be held. And because none of the suspects can be tried, there is no option other than to let them go, much to the chagrin of the grieving people who watched their favorite sport die in cold blood. The Kaiser Soze among the suspects cannot be determined. And just like that, the suspects walk away, and the killer is gone.
