Opinion: Making a Fortune with Freak Shows

Recently, we learned that 43-year-old Floyd Mayweather Jr., arguably the greatest boxer in the over 140-year modern history of the sport, will be facing Logan Paul in a pay-per-view exhibition. Paul is a YouTube celebrity with a legion of prepubescent fans and an 0-1 professional boxing record, and is best known for filming a corpse in a Japanese forest.

The announcement shouldn't be surprising, coming on the heels of the insane success of the recent exhibition between Mike Tyson and Roy Jones Jr. That bout between two men eligible for AARP, with a provision calling for larger gloves so that they wouldn’t hurt each other too badly, sold a phenomenal 1.6 million pay-per-views. For reference, that is more than every Brock Lesnar or Ronda Rousey fight, the famous UFC 100, UFC 200, and UFC 251 cards and the vast majority of Conor McGregor pay-per-views. Only McGregor-Diaz 2 matched that 1.6 million figure and McGregor-Nurmagomedov surpassed it. And yet many boxers, toiling in relative obscurity fighting for thousands per match, are currently better and more skilled than either Tyson or Jones. So what can fans and promoters alike learn from this?

First, let's define what a spectacle, or less charitably, freak-show fight is. It's a match where one or both competitors is nowhere near a top fighter, but they generate considerable interest through factors independent of combat itself: celebrity status, perhaps, or their accomplishments in the sport 30-plus years ago. Their accomplishments in a different sport altogether. Their physical appearance. A large size disparity between the two competitors. Clearly, this applies to Mayweather-Paul. Mayweather might still conceivably be a top fighter, but Paul certainly isn't. And let's drop the charade that either of the once-legendary, now elderly boxers that competed recently are, either. Tyson might have looked good for a 54-year-old, but he was average for a 44-year-old, and practically any current Top 100 heavyweight boxer would crush him like a bug.

Now, before we go any further, let's get one point straight. There is absolutely nothing wrong with freak-show fights or enjoying them. Hell, I like them myself! Not only did I watch Tyson-Jones Jr. with considerable interest, but I had a lot of fun seeing Logan Paul's younger brother Jake take on Nate Robinson, with Robinson claiming he is the greatest all-around athlete ever, and his arrogant, disrespectful approach to a dangerous, demanding sport like boxing ending in predictable fashion. I had similar amusement in watching Phil Brooks in the UFC's own freak show fights, although I was disappointed that Mickey Gall didn't humiliate or hurt “CM Punk” more. Luckily, photographer and weekend warrior Mike Jackson satisfied both desires in Punk's second outing, by design.

The point is, whether you're watching Tyson to evoke the nostalgia of his iconic run through the heavyweight division in the 80s or want to see a delusional basketball or pro wrestling star receive a brutal awakening, there is a wide range of appeal to these affairs, even for supposed “hardcore” fans. One also shouldn't be surprised that the average person finds these more intriguing than a match between borderline world top-50 contenders, or even many championship fights. Most people care relatively little, if at all about fighter skill or quality in a vacuum. They want to be entertained, either by the personalities involved or the nature of the fight itself, and they have some interest (less than many would believe) in seeing what the supposed best in the world have to offer. The latter is why championship bouts are so heavily promoted, even when the title itself is farcical, such as most boxing belts.

However, let's note a sobering reality. It's very difficult to get the confluence of names and factors to have a wildly successful spectacle fight. If it was so easy to attract eyeballs and dollars, far more events headlined by freak shows would make a fortune. Consider the very same “CM Punk.” Despite being one of the biggest names in pro wrestling of the past 20 years with some mainstream fame, it's questionable how much interest he attracted. UFC 203, his debut, headlined by Stipe Miocic vs. Alistair Overeem, did about 450,000 buys. That's a decent number, but nothing special. Miocic's previous fight, a headliner against Fabricio Werdum, had done about 325,000 buys, and his next fight, a rematch against Junior dos Santos, did about 350,000, so some speculate that “Punk” accounted for about 100,000 buys. I'm not entirely convinced, as Miocic-Overeem seemed like the biggest fight of the trio at the time to myself and other fans, but perhaps it's valid. Regardless, Punk's appeal was short-lived, as his second appearance at UFC 225, headlined by Robert Whittaker vs. Yoel Romero 2, was a card that did a very average 250,000 buys. Not every combatant is one of the biggest young celebrities in the entire world like the Paul brothers are. Nor are they one of the greatest, and perhaps the single most famous, beloved, and exciting boxer ever, who also had massive mainstream success, like Mike Tyson, fighting another unique, beloved, legendary champion like Roy Jones Jr. And the timing for Tyson to come back was absolutely perfect, 15 years removed from his last professional fight against Kevin McBride—an embarrassing loss—and plenty of time to reinvent himself in between.

So what conclusions can fans draw about freak show fights? For one, don't feel remotely guilty for enjoying them! Even the most hardcore, longtime fans love them. Just be honest with yourself and everyone else about what the hell you're watching, and the associated appeal.

More interestingly, what can promoters learn from this? Based on what I've observed, moderation is key. There is a market for these standalone pay-per-views, even within top MMA organizations, but sparingly. I loved the way that Pride Fighting Championships used to incorporate freak-show fights. We would get the occasional Paulo Cesar Silva sighting, or Japanese actor Ken Kaneko facing Charles Bennett, but they would be in the middle of a card sandwiched between many elite, world-class fighters. And while we would see Fedor Emelianenko taking on Wagner da Conceicao Martins or Mirko Filipovic facing the future “Alberto del Rio,” such matchups were rare, and only very rarely the main event. Think of them as a spicy, exotic ingredient that would become too overpowering if overutilized, but is fun in small doses. Too many such fights can, among other problems, hurt an organization's credibility. The UFC got away with the “CM Punk” experiment and a handful of smaller events headlined by over-40 heavyweights in steep decline, most notably Mark Hunt versus Alexey Oleynik, because it was uncommon. Meanwhile, a lot of fans still mock Bellator to this day for infamous freak shows like Royce Gracie versus Ken Shamrock 3 or Kevin Ferguson versus Dhafir Harris, since they went to the well a little too often and a little too blatantly back then. I think Scott Coker has learned this lesson, as he recently released Frank Mir and Roy Nelson, and stated no interest in signing Anderson Silva. Meanwhile, I don't mind Valerie Loureda beating an overmatched opponent once or twice a year, or a Pride nostalgia main event with Emelianenko facing Quinton Jackson in Japan.

Whether boxing promoters can restrain themselves, however, is an open question. We may well be sick of such spectacles at this point next year. Only time will tell.