09/05/2026
There was a time when the ambiances of life, without however extinguishing it completely, had driven me away from my passion for boxing. By a twist of fate, on June 1, 2019, I came across a match held at Madison Square Garden in New York, where the world heavyweight champion Anthony Joshua was set to defend his titles against the then undefeated challenger Jarrell Miller, who, after failing a drug test, was replaced by Andy Ruiz Jr. Ruiz is the classic "underdog," with a physique that looks more like a provincial taco vendor than a 16-armed warrior: against every prediction, he wins the fight by KO in the seventh round, becoming the new WBA, IBF, IBO, and WBO world champion. Like a bolt out of the blue, this story of Rocky in salsa brought back my love for the Noble Art. A lot of water has passed under the bridge, and that magical night at Madison Square Garden has earned a place in the history of boxing. Last night, at thirty-seven years old and inactive for two, Andy Ruiz returned to the ring against the giant Damian Knyba, a Polish boxer of over two meters. We all know how it went. Describing and commenting on the match is considered superfluous. I find it more significant to depict Ruiz's story to once again capture the state of the sport. A continuous, almost pathetic, rehashing of a punchline where even the most seasoned fighters struggle to find the flavor of boxing; Ruiz is, in every way, a former boxer, and boxing has never spared anyone. Here we are even at a "geographical" paradox: never seen a Mexican boxer stepping into the ring without dressing in "fame." Ruiz hasn't had a "fame" in ring for years, and in boxing, you can't just mark down the attendance from the start. I find it the worst kind of publicity that can be done to a sport seeking new appeal for a broad appeal, as it was and as it should be. To start over, perhaps it would be helpful to start with a clean slate to get out of a discouraging situation. Instead, it's humiliating. Good boxing to everyone.