I watched Jake Paul fight on Saturday, again. I’ve written about this activity here, before, at length, qualifying me as a Jake Paul Enjoyer — a seasoned one, at that, because this time I knew which fights to skip. Normally I would have watched the whole card, but Saturday was a monumental event-watching day in general — there was a Warriors game (in which they rested their entire starting lineup and predictably got mauled), some football games (which I didn’t care too much about, because the 49ers weren’t playing and I didn’t have an active gambling interest), two different battle rap events¹— and, of course, Jake Paul. At one point I had four of these things going on different screens. I do not have a Time-Turner² nor eight eyes, and therefore had to figure out how to effectively split my attention; my solution was to not watch the actual professional boxers in the Jake Paul undercard, as they know what they’re doing, and are therefore boring. (Excuse me, sir? I’m here for the clown show, thank you.)
The two fights I did watch both delivered, entertainment-wise — for the wrong reasons, which in this case really were the right reasons. The undercard had former NBA player Deron Williams fighting former NFL player Frank Gore; neither of these people are professional boxers, a circumstance that makes me react like the Sickos meme guy. Before detailing this fight, I think it’s important to note that I was 100% rooting for Frank Gore. He was the only good player on a bunch of trash 49ers teams that I grew up watching, and is a legend in the Bay Area. Also, he seems to be a good guy, and has a crazy work ethic — he was playing in the NFL about a decade after people normally retire at his position, which is super admirable. I own his jersey, and if a Super Bowl were at stake and I had a 2nd and goal at the 5 yard line, I would definitely give him the ball, as opposed to throwing a fade route to Michael Crabtree. (I’m not bitter.)
Having said that, Frank Gore was not a good boxer. He wasn’t bad! I’ve seen worse amateurs; his form wasn’t awful, and he wasn’t doing anything egregiously stupid tactics-wise. He was also at a giant disadvantage, because Deron Williams’ arms were probably about a foot longer than his. However, he had zero defense to speak of; it looked like he was trying to defend punches with something approximating the Philly shell, which is notorious for being a very good defensive style if you are Floyd Mayweather (a professional boxer with better reactions and tactical understanding than nearly every other professional boxer ever), and a great way to get yourself punched in the face if you are anyone else³. I like Frank Gore, but in the year since he had played in the NFL, he had not become Floyd Mayweather.
Deron Williams was actually a pretty decent amateur boxer — at the very least, he knew enough to use his significant reach advantage. (This is surprisingly non-trivial, and more than some professional boxers manage.) He would mostly jab at length, staying out of any real danger; Gore knew that he needed to close the distance between the two and work inside to do any real damage and win the fight, but mostly wasn’t slick enough at dodging or skilled enough at counterpunching to actually accomplish this. To my infinite entertainment, instead, nearly every time Williams would tag him with a combo, he reverted to his non-boxing instincts and bullrushed Williams, seemingly attempting to perform either a football tackle or an MMA takedown, neither of which are legal in a sanctioned boxing match. Williams had no idea how to handle this strategy, although I can’t actually tell if this is something a skilled fighter would have been able to exploit, or if it had the element-of-surprise advantage of professional training leaving you unprepared for the man who has never picked up a sword before.
Williams’ various attempts at defending this rushdown were several degrees of hilarious. One time, he matador-sidestepped and shoved Gore through the ropes at ringside, which is also highly illegal, and stopped the fight for a minute as the referee checked on Gore. Later in the fight, he responded with an MMA move of his own and essentially suplexed Gore. (I probably don’t need to mention this, but — also illegal!) His usual counter was probably the funniest, in that he would contort his body into an overhanging L shape by sticking his ass out. This might be a reasonable takedown defense? I don’t know enough about MMA to tell you; it definitely delayed Gore’s contact with his midsection. However, nearly every time he tried this, he happened to be facing away from the camera, and it mostly looked like he was twerking.
Gore resorted to throwing wild haymakers in the last round or two, almost none of which actually landed, and never actually protected his face with his gloves, which meant he got punched a lot. He clearly lost, although one judge scored the fight in his favor, somehow. I wished some NFL team — preferably one with Super Bowl aspirations — had signed him off the street this season instead of this. (There’s still time, but I doubt this display did him any favors.)
By contrast, the Jake Paul fight was actually boring (until it wasn’t, but we’ll get to that in a second); he is getting dangerously close to actually boxing professionally. His fight was a rematch against Tyron Woodley, who had stepped in for a rematch on two weeks’ notice, replacing the legitimate boxer Paul was slated to fight (Tommy Fury — a suspect, low-tier boxer, but a boxer nonetheless, who has name recognition by virtue of being the brother of Tyson Fury, the heavyweight world champion).
Woodley had been angling for a rematch since the end of their last fight, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t been training, but he had definitely regressed. Notably, the punch that was the cornerstone of his game plan from the first fight — a powerful overhand right that threatened to knock out Paul in a single blow, and which had, in fact, knocked out several MMA fighters — was completely absent. I don’t think he threw this all night; I wondered if perhaps he had been overcoached, in some misguided attempt to instill boxing fundamentals (jab! work inside! clinch!) instead of playing to his natural strengths. In practice, what that meant was that both fighters basically did nothing. Paul (rightfully) respected the possibility of the overhand and mostly stayed at a distance; Woodley would land a combination and then back off, or enter a clinch. Mostly, they stared at one another at arms’ length; the crowd started booing before the end of the first round.
Woodley opened up a cut on Jake Paul’s head a few rounds into the fight. There was a lot of blood — enough that it appeared to be obscuring Paul’s vision. Bizarrely, despite this being a circumstance in which even literal animals realize that predatorily attacking the injury is the correct tactical decision, Woodley staunchly stuck to his game plan and continued to retreat every time he managed to deal damage. For this gross miscalculation, he was rewarded with a lifetime of disgrace as a Twitter meme, as Jake Paul slept his ass in a clean, no-cap-emoji Knockout of the Year candidate. I doubt there will be a third fight.
Several names were floated as to whom Paul should fight next, including other retired MMA fighters and disgraced/bad professional boxers. I posit that all of them will be appointment viewing. Please send help.
[1] These were both underwhelming for different reasons, although that would deserve its own post — best summary I can give without going too in-depth is that I listened to two randos battling in a Discord server Sunday night and heard better bars than anything than the professional rappers came up with the night before. Shout out to “you not safe on the block, I got plus frames,” that’s 🔥🔥🔥.
[2] In a parallel universe somewhere, the reason people hate JK Rowling on Twitter is that Harry Potter and the Cursed Child contains a scene where Harry uses a Time-Turner to win money betting on Jake Paul fights by knowing the outcome in advance.
[3] See this Hamilton Nolan piece for a better insight than I can write, and ignore that it’s about Adrien Broner, who turned out to be somewhat mediocre.
