Because it is just two people punching each other at the end of day, there are plenty who feel entitled to offer their opinion on a sport like boxing and speak as though they know what they are talking about. This has become more evident in recent years, too, when boxing, like everything else in life, has pivoted from valuing expertise and insight to prioritising attention, speed, and whatever fits the algorithm. 

As a result, we are at the point now where those speaking about boxing are not the most knowledgeable on the subject, but rather the most “famous” or “popular” people with at least some knowledge of it. In fact, it doesn’t even necessarily have to be knowledge of the sport. It can just be a passing interest in it, or a passing interest in the spectacle of two people punching each other (something everybody has).

In recent years they have all had a go, with varying degrees of success. We have had football people talk about boxing, basketball people talk about boxing, MMA people talk about boxing, and we have had numerous podcasters, influencers, and reality TV stars enter the scene on account of it being so damn easy to talk about. They don’t just talk about boxing, either. They tell you about it. They deliberately go out of their way to be controversial with so-called “hot takes” in order to generate attention. Then, because loud and simple always wins, it is to these men and women some boxing fans look for their daily dose of boxing content. Soon, without spending a day in a gym, they feel like they belong. 

The same is true of interviews with boxers, which are no longer the privilege of the working press. Instead, these are now conducted by anyone and everyone and all that really matters, it seems, is that a boxer or promoter is presented with a camera and the freedom to get their point across, unopposed. Even at press conferences we have now become accustomed to seeing the boxers interviewed either by their own promoters or by the host, ostensibly to smooth the process, but ultimately just draining it of any flavour whatsoever. 

On fight night it is no different. Insight tends to be in short supply there as well, with a far greater emphasis on pundits saying what promoters or broadcasters want to hear and interviewers often appearing more like fans, happy just to be there. 

Oh, and it’s not only boxing. In football (soccer), too, there is a growing trend of YouTubers and influencers becoming go-to pundits, particularly on Sky Sports, which, as you can imagine, does not sit well with some of the purists and traditionalists. Fair or not, these fans claim to have trouble listening to chronically online twentysomethings tell them about a sport they have (a) never actually played and (b) only followed for a few years due to their limited life experience. 

Of course, rather than this being a deliberate attempt to dumb everything down, such moves simply reflect the habits of an ever-changing world. They represent a cheap and easy alternative, in other words – just as women’s world-title fights did around the time of the pandemic. Which is to say, it is not the fault of enthusiasts plucked from obscurity and cast as “experts” if Dave from Dagenham is dissatisfied with the sound of his analysis. It is instead a consequence of those in the sport allowing the sport to be undermined and debased. 

It's only when you get to witness a conversation between two people who actually “get” the topic they are discussing that you realise the drawbacks of this new approach to capturing attention. If, for example, you happened to watch Andre Ward interview Joe Calzaghe for over an hour on his YouTube show The Art of Ward (All the Smoke Fight), you will have been reminded of how it feels to learn things and gain insight when consuming boxing content. 

These days the offering of that seems like a radical act; something divisive and liable to alienate and lose a content creator their audience. Yet in the hands of Ward, not only a great fighter but a thoughtful interviewer, the prospect of hearing him interview Calzaghe, a fighter just as great, was catnip for those of a certain disposition. 

It didn’t disappoint, either. In fact, Ward’s trip to Newbridge, Wales to see Calzaghe was one of the more fascinating and valuable bits of boxing content anybody has produced this year. The reason for that is obvious, you might say, for the pairing of two boxing greats will only ever create magic. But it is also worth reiterating just how different this was to everything else we are force-fed, like hospital food, or prison food, on a daily basis. Rather than slop, the meeting of Ward and Calzaghe was a gourmet meal; something to savour, something that required cutlery. It didn’t come in a brown paper bag, nor could it be devoured in a few minutes with one’s fingers. Afterwards, too, you didn’t even feel bad, or guilty, or desperate to locate the nearest toilet to purge all that you had allowed to enter your body. 

Maybe that’s what happens when you get two retired fighters with common ground sharing their thoughts on the sport. Or maybe true nourishment is seeing the sport taken seriously by people who care about it and are not using it as a punch line, or for cheap content. So rare is it these days, in fact, whenever you get a whiff of it – especially on YouTube – it feels as though you have travelled back in time; back to when boxing was considered difficult, and nuanced, and a sport for discerning types who had acquired the taste.

For bucking the trend, The Art of Ward deserves credit. There you can find interviews not only with Calzaghe, but also Roy Jones, Laila Ali, Terence Crawford, Devin Haney, Shakur Stevenson, David Benavidez, Claressa Shields, and many more. All were conducted by Ward and all because of this are markedly different from anything else you will have seen involving these fighters. Which, I suppose, begs the question: are retired fighters the ideal interviewers, or is Andre Ward, a retired fighter more intelligent than most, the exception? 

We have, it’s true, seen countless other retired fighters launch podcasts and try their hand at interviewing. Some do it out of sheer boredom. Others do it to stay relevant. Either way, there is often a feeling that you are watching a megaphone preacher preach to a flock of pigeons only interested in the crusts of bread at their feet. For most, it is just a cry for help; a “remember me?” yelled into the vortex that is modern life.

And yet, even if the nature of their profession has cruelly impacted their ability to discuss it, boxers are clearly worth listening to – always. They, more than anyone, know how difficult this sport is and how seriously it needs to be taken. They, more than anyone, know how it feels.