Friends, is it to you the most wonderful time of the year? Not me, not as Nick Reiner stories gum up my scrolling stations.
Hoping that dirty and sad saga is a psychic belch, an exorcise offering to the gods of future prospects, i.e., the Fates. Through the narrower lens, looking back at the “fight game” in 2025, I confess it’s been kind of a crap year for the sport, and some of that can be blamed on “fate.”
Missing Big George Bad
I was under the delusion-assumption that George Foreman would continue to be a pillar of a man, until that cruddy news came that on March 21, 2025, “Big George” joined the crew.
I’d poke him when others from his majestic age passed away. Muhammad Ali, he loved him for helping teach the value of winning-for-losing; Foreman processed his death. Joe Frazier went in 2011, so did Ron Lyle, Ken Norton in 2013, and “The Greatest” Ali departed in 2016. I’d understandably get a reaction from Foreman to the passings of past foes. His recall was invariably gracious.
Yep, I figured George, trimmed down and still active, would have a fruitful and continuing wind-down. The sport did not have a better living attribute of the glories of pugilism than George Foreman, and his absence summoned shadows.
So, while at times I willed myself to look on the bright side and embrace (if sagely) the changing of the guard within the realm, it would be hard to stay positive.
My hopes for an only-up ascent for Turki Alalshikh took a wicked tumble as I watched, half in horror, his NYC Times Square behind-partitioned card unfold on May 2. Guys, going through the motions for overstuffed checks left my resolve for the bright side looking challenged.
Tom Gerbasi Leaves A Huge Hole
If Foreman’s departure hit hard, then the death of fight game (boxing, UFC, etc.) lifer Tom Gerbasi, at 57, hit a deeper nerve. I am 56, and lord, Tom from Staten Island ran marathons and played soccer all the time. A little extra cloud has hung in the sky in my mind since the ex-Max Boxing executive and Mr. H Congeniality, H for humble, died on September 16.
Holidays Bring Memories, You Better Watch Out
Meaningfulness of it all bubbled up while I watched this 2025 of boxing play out from the humbled Brooklyn home office:
That office—it doubles as my pad, divorced dad acting like boxing, in transition. And as I texted Happy 94th to Bob Arum on December 8, I had some old-time Christmas carols playing on a fireplace YouTube channel, and I heard about chestnuts roasting over an open fire, which sounded cozy.
I looked into my SMS, and hello, Con Ed is kindly informing me that my bill is ready. As if it were a restaurant and they’d given me A-plus service at a reasonable fee.
No answer back from Bob, he is on media blackout while he finds platform homes for his Top Rank brand fare, another reason my years assessment is low. This second half of 2025, Top Rank homeless and Premier Boxing Champions is a different endeavor now, with Al Haymon removed from day-to-day as compared to ten years ago… Ouch. It’s the slowest Saturday in American pro boxing in forever.
If I wanna keep indulging the certain vibes, of absence from the scene, writ large and smaller, my mind wanders from open fires to DAZN’s desires: when is my year up with them, and then they will charge at an “enhanced” rate, so their PPVs will be included. Not looking forward to it, not loving how 2025 has been playing out overall.
Sorry To Cast A Pall
Terence Crawford showing mastery over the faded Canelo Alvarez (just 35 but turned pro at 15) helped lift my spirits in the sport some. As I type this, though, thoughts of that malevolent-looking Nick Reiner stick in my head. He had a fight with Billy Hader at the Conan O’Brien holiday party on Saturday, ok.
That sick kid, his eyes tell a bad story in photos—dark psyche. Not ideal to dwell on, but this is Dateline’s world, we are just renting space. Oh, ok, here is something to look at: instead of how Turki’s imposition on the sport sucked the air out of many rooms we’d come to rely on.
Thanks Be To George
I relied on Big George to offer me spiritually sound counsel when I was a dad trying to help a kid with issues (bipolar) and my own cluttered psyche, and I miss that option.
The loss of a couple of lifers, George and Tom, both renowned for their extraordinary decency in their spheres, shaded my perception of another transition year for the old warhorse of a sport.
A Toast To Brighter and Better Days In Boxing
Here is a toast to less cloudy scenes in 2026, here is a plea to the influencer gods that the Shakur Stevenson vs Teofimo Lopez (both age 28) tussle to come is one for the ages.
Two young men, physical primes of their lives, the opportunity to have a fight (series?) of generational import is there. Will the opportunity be taken, or will the safety-first mindset predominate?
The May 2 Times Square event, an archetypical “looked and sounded good on paper” deal, had me yearning for some gritty 70s/80s vibe return. Turki juggles a lot and has a few full plates. A savior should be full-time, no? The same vibe is there for me with Zuffa Boxing and Dana White. Diluted Dana has multiple plates full already. He can’t serve all with deserved vigor, can he?
Maybe it is best to finish this look back at an off-year with a look forward.
Bye Bye Bud?
As I type, folks are responding on social media about Terence Crawford’s retirement. 38 years old, saying he has had enough. No, then to the rumored rematch next September versus Canelo? No, then to another oversized check? Sorry to cast a pall, y’all. But this year in boxing, from a U.S. longtime reporter of/fan, has been subpar.
Give a grade, Woods, wrap it up. The year in boxing gets a C. We had pockets of good meat in a sh*t sandwich, C. We will see which way it goes re: influencers and spin-fluencers moving forward. There may be obvious blowback to AI’s norms shifting, and people might shout down accounts buoyed by self-like buying. C. With a lot of D weeks.
Check back next year, fate willing, we will be able and inclined to opine. I do have gratification for that.
I am hitting send to the editor while “Oh come let us adore him” plays out on TV. Happier New Year, everyone!
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