10.04.06 – By Aaron King: Entering last Saturday’s welterweight bout between Floyd Mayweather and Zab Judah, Bob Arum, Don King and numerous others proclaimed that boxing’s allure was reaching new corners of the American demographic. Unquestionably, the fight piqued the interest of the black community to unprecedented heights. Arum and Mayweather appeared on “Quite Frankly” with Steven A. Smith a few days before the contest.. Arum’s overt attempts to sell the fight to African Americans came to a head on the program, and what better place to do it. Steven A. Smith and his show are a beacon to the audience Arum was aiming for – the Hip-Hop audience.
Zab Judah has always been Hip-Hop’s first son of boxing. Roy Jones Jr. could lay claim to that title for a little while, but he never had the full attention of that crowd. R.J. was more like an envoy between the two. He didn’t really live the Hip-Hop life.
For Judah, the Hip-Hop world is his own, and with his help, it has been infused throughout boxing, finally introducing two of the most logical partners.
Mayweather doesn’t relate quite as well as Judah does to this audience, but he is by far the most revered talent in not only the black community, but also, in all of boxing.
Bob Arum, ever the shrewd businessman, could read the writing on the wall and marketed the fight with a distinct viewership in mind. In the days leading into the bout, he, King, Mayweather and Judah created an atmosphere that was, to the casual or new fan, akin to a Jay-Z concert.
Outbreaks of violence are, sadly, not unknown to either realm of entertainment. From a shooting after a Busta Rhymes video production to the ruckus that was Bowe-Golota II, controlled violence to threatened violence, the lifelines of boxing and rap were destined to intersect at some point.
And so, on April 8, the ingredients for a Molotov cocktail were set and ready for mixing. Arum and King wanted an event with a Hip-Hop feel. Unfortunately for boxing, they got it.
Only the naïve were surprised by what happened at the end of the tenth round when “Pretty Boy” Floyd’s trainer and uncle, Roger, stormed across the ring after Zab landed a clean low blow-rabbit punch combination. The melee that ensued was, by then, a formality.
As the ring filled with the countless number of enraged posse and red-coated event security, the collective “I told you so” could be heard as far away as Boston. The public not counted as either boxing or Hip-Hop advocate saw the jackpot, two-for-one invitation to rip both sectors of entertainment fall right into their lap. This was evil squared, twice the chance to say, “See, this is what is wrong with (fill in the blank).”
The ugly skirmish that unfolded in Las Vegas probably had nothing to do with the newly furnished alliance between boxing and Hip-Hop, but it matters not. The damage has been done. The chance was there for a fresh and exciting occurrence, and possibly a new brand of boxing endorsement and prosperity. But time and again, as it is for both of the worlds merged into this event, an all too common incident takes the place of what should have been a special night.