Extra Points: A Black Eye for Boxing

By DAVID WEINBERG

A one-ringed circus came to town in Dallas last week.

Jake Paul and Mike Tyson staged a carnival last Friday under the big top otherwise known as AT&T Stadium.  Of course, Jerry’s World is no stranger to hosting such events, given that the Cowboys play there.

Instead of a sword, Tyson swallowed his pride. The only thing missing from Paul’s clownish effort was a water-squirting flower on his lapel.

P.T. Barnum would have been proud.

Anyone who expected a legitimate fight had their heads buried in the sand at Cape May’s Poverty Beach.  As soon as the event was first announced, it smelled like the Delaware Bay at low tide.

Given my experience in covering the sport, I was asked beforehand who I thought would win.  My answer was always the same: “If it’s on the up-and-up, Tyson will knock him out. But I think the fix is in and Paul will win.”

Turned out it was on the down-and-down.

It was not surprising, considering Tyson had nothing to gain by winning and Paul had everything to lose by losing.

At 58 years old, Tyson is decades removed from the intimidating monster who knocked out Michael Spinks at Jim Whelan Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City.  Matter of fact, nearly 20 years have passed since he seemingly ended his career by quitting on his stool against Kevin McBride.

He took this fight because he needed the money and there are no immediate plans for a “Hangover” sequel.

Tyson provided the perfect foil for Paul, who sought to fight a recognizable name to pad his spotty boxing resume.  A win over a legend guaranteed more fights and more millions.

A Tyson knockout meant Paul’s gravy train would run out of gravy.  The result was an eight-round tango that was so choreographed, it should have been scored by the “Dancing with the Stars” panel instead of ringside judges.

Tyson’s only significant punch was the slap he delivered during the weigh-in. He had ample opportunities to drop Paul early in the fight – multiple videos have appeared on social media showing Paul with his hands down and Tyson within striking distance – but declined to take advantage.

Despite the fight being shortened to two-minute rounds, he ran out of gas and took to playfully gnawing on his glove. He had about as much movement as Margate’s Lucy the Elephant.

As Tyson faded from exhaustion, Paul appeared unwilling – or unable – to take him out. He did just enough to get a unanimous decision, but delivered an uninspired and unimpressive performance.

Both fighters emerged relatively unscathed.

But they gave boxing a black eye.  The only thing possibly worse was the broadcast.

Netflix’s livestream was fraught with streaming and buffering problems, prompting one viewer in Florida to file a class-action suit against the network.

Truth be told, I’m a big Netflix fan.  Ozark was one of my favorite all-time series, and I’ve also enjoyed its sports-oriented programming such as “Last Chance U” and “Full Swing.”

But Tyson-Paul was the worst livestream of a sports event since Gavin Belson and Hooli’s Nucleus platform streamed a fictional UFC fight on HBO’s Silicon Valley in 2015.

I should file a lawsuit, too.

After attending a friend’s wedding at the Flanders Hotel in Ocean City Friday evening – congrats to Roger Hoover and his bride, Jackie – I headed down the Garden State Parkway in hopes of catching the fight.

I got home around 11, just in time to see the highlight of the night – a thrilling rematch between women’s standouts Katie Taylor and Amanda Serrano - then waited over an hour and a half for the live main event.

Or so I thought.

Tyson-Paul was in the fourth round when I glanced at my phone and saw that Paul had won via unanimous decision.

But I only have myself to blame for watching it.  As Barnum once reportedly said, “There’s a sucker born every minute.”

Including April 19, 1958.

Thank goodness there was a real, legitimate boxing card at Tropicana Atlantic City the next night, where fans filled the Showroom to watch undefeated local fighters Justin Figueroa and Bruce Seldon Jr. in action.

Afterward, I strode out of the casino and onto the Boardwalk, where I took a deep breath.

Unlike Tyson-Paul, it didn’t smell fishy.