What Tank Davis vs. Jake Paul Really Says About the State of Boxing

Well, well, well.

Reportedly, on November 14th at State Farm Arena in Atlanta, we’re going to see Gervonta “Tank” Davis step into the ring against Jake Paul. And it’ll stream on Netflix.

Let’s call this what it is: a spectacle.

Now don’t get me wrong, this is going to make money.

Big money.

We’re talking about potentially over $100 million in revenue. The kind of money that’ll make even Floyd Mayweather tilt his shades down and nod in approval.

And listen, I’m not mad at that. I understand the economics. I understand the business.

But here’s the problem: it comes at the expense of boxing.

Tank Should Be Fighting Roach or Shakur — Not a YouTuber

Tank Davis is 30-0-1 with 28 knockouts. A legit champion. A proven star. But let’s not sugarcoat this: Lamont Roach Jr. deserved a rematch.

He fought Tank to a controversial draw back in March. He hurt him. He exposed vulnerabilities.

And let’s not forget, Tank literally turned his back in that fight.

Referee Steve Willis let it slide, but that was a moment Roach should’ve had on his record.

And instead of running that back?

We’re getting Jake Paul.

Jake Paul.

Jake Paul is Entertainment, Not Legacy

Listen, I’ll give Jake Paul his props. The man knows how to sell a fight. He’s not just a social media influencer — he’s a marketing genius.

But let’s not confuse that with being a legitimate top-tier fighter. He’s not Canelo. He’s not Crawford. He’s not even in the same orbit as Tank.

And the fact that Tank is lowering himself to this tells me exactly where the sport is right now: the bag matters more than the belts.

Ali. Frazier. Foreman. Hagler. Leonard. Holyfield. Mayweather. Hearts. These were fighters who fought for legacy first. They fought killers, not clout chasers.

If we’re keeping it a buck?

Those legends are rolling over in their graves right now.

Boxing’s Identity Crisis

This fight — Tank vs. Jake Paul — is the perfect symbol of boxing’s identity crisis.

Is it a sport? Or is it sports entertainment?

Netflix will make it look pretty. Jake Paul will do his trash-talking. Tank will come in with his icy stare and heavy hands.

Social media will be buzzing.

But when the dust settles, the question remains: what did this do for the sport? Did it move the lightweight division forward? Did it give us clarity at the top of the rankings? Did it honor the lineage of the sweet science?

The answer is no.

What it did was generate a bag. And that’s where we are now, folks. A world where legacy gets sacrificed at the altar of revenue.

I’ll be tuned in. You’ll be tuned in. Millions will watch. But let’s not pretend this is what boxing was meant to be.

This isn’t Ali-Frazier.

This isn’t Hagler-Hearns.

This isn’t even Mayweather-Pacquiao.

This is Tank Davis vs. Jake Paul.

The biggest bag… with the smallest meaning.