Jake Paul vs Gib and why boxing’s big YouTube experiment needs to end

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In the barmy world of professional wrestling, ‘kayfabe’ is the art of making the audience believe that all of the fights, feuds and general gimmickry are 100 per cent true, and not scripted or staged or pre-determined in any way. The audience know this isn’t the case, sure, but for a few entertaining hours and with a cold beer in hand, they willingly play along to keep the ridiculous show on the road.

Boxing relies on its own type of kayfabe. Not literally, of course. When a boxer gets punched in the face they get punched for real and when things go wrong they go wrong catastrophically. You don’t play boxing, as the old saying goes. But boxing has always had its silly side and those who wish to immerse themselves in the sport are frequently forced to not so much suspend their disbelief, as bring it to a hard, screeching halt.

How else do you explain everything that boxing fans are forced to endure? The ducking. The doping. The mismatches. The late nights. The dodgy scorecards. The alphabet soup of minor and major world titles. The eye-watering pay-per-view prices. The bribes. The backhanders. The sportswashing. Boxing has long been a sport perpetually on the verge of eating itself.

And then came the YouTubers.

It all started in November, when Brit KSI narrowly outpointed Logan Paul in front of a sellout crowd in Los Angeles. It was wild. It wasn’t very good. And, last night in Miami, Logan’s younger brother, Jake, took on a man who goes by the name AnEsonGib (‘Big Nose Na’ backwards … no, me neither) hoping to win to set up a vengeful grudge match with KSI. He did, via a first-round TKO, in a fight that made November’s nonsense look as skilled as the Rumble in the Jungle.

The biggest problem was that, in between the press conferences and professionally-shot interviews and YouTube callouts, seemingly nobody had bothered to teach poor Gib how to box. And so at the sound of the bell he immediately rushed Paul in a bizarre, squat, square on stance, looking like a crab, or an OAP without his walking stick, or a video game character with the crouch button held down.

Paul — who was trained by Sugar Shane Mosley ahead of the fight and at least arrived with some idea of what he was doing — looked bewildered at first, as Gib’s wild swings grazed his ankles. But then he began to find his range. A short right to the temple sent Gib to the canvas. Followed by a flurry on the ropes. Followed by a straight right down the pipe, that floored sad Gib once again. And with that it was all over. Three knockdowns in 2 minutes and 18 seconds.

It was bad. Real bad. So bad, in fact, that it made you reflect on exactly what it is you watch the hardest game for. Is it for the skill, the drama, the competition? Or is it for the exhilaration of watching somebody — anybody — get seriously injured? Not that these questions were of any pressing concern in Miami. “100 per cent the KSI fight will happen, hopefully this year,” Paul gurned into a camera after the battering. “I think we’ll go to Saudi Arabia maybe. I love it there. I love the people there. And I think it’s a great country, super fun.”

Get all of that? Good. Because, in case you hadn’t heard, this is the future of boxing now. Apparently. All week, Matchroom’s Eddie Hearn has been hard at work reassuring long-suffering fans that YouTube boxing is A Good Thing that ultimately benefits the wider sport. It’s a stretch. And his attempts to sell the fight to the dismayed and disinterested have largely revolved around two lines of argument.

The first is that it’s entertaining. Jake Paul and Gib didn’t know how to defend themselves. Neither did KSI or big brother Logan, for that matter. And so the fight quickly descends into an almighty scrap, with more windmills than a walk in the Dutch countryside. Somebody is getting knocked out. To some people, that represents good value. Fine. Yet to others, it’s a bit like turning down a ticket to the Champions League final for an Isthmian League match because you’re most probably going to see a few more goals.

The second is the exposure the sport is gaining from the fights. The YouTubers will help a new generation of fans fall in love with the sport of boxing, or so the thinking goes. But why is this the concern of those who have already shelled out on a DAZN or Sky Sports subscription? Paying customers have a right to demand better. After all, would a cinema buff be happy to buy a ticket to the latest Paul Thomas Anderson flick, only to find that the leading role had been handed to Joe Weller instead of Daniel Day-Lewis to help pull in a fresher, younger audience?

That’s not to say that YouTube boxing does not have its place. The audience is quite clearly there. But give them their own cards, tailor-made for their own fans. Because to feature them alongside the proper professionals does nobody any favours. And it is hard to see how a future in which the sport so nakedly prioritises the pulling power of random internet stars over the natural ability of its athletes does not spell the end for boxing.

Oh. By the way. Before the YouTube foolishness, Joseph Diaz stunned Tevin Farmer to capture his IBF super-featherweight title, despite sporting a savage cut above his eye so deep that, in the post-fight interview, it was almost possible to catch a glimpse of his brain. And, in the main event of the evening, Demetrius Andrade dropped and stopped Luke Keeler in nine rounds to retain his WBO middleweight title. Maybe that matters to some of you. Then again, maybe not.