“I want to avenge Canelo’s loss,” Garcia said. “I just wanna beat his ass. I want that. He knows that I want that. I’m willing to test him to see where he’s at.”

The emotional angle gives Ryan his talking point, but the true lure sits entirely in the bank account. Crawford stepped away having conquered five divisions and collecting undisputed honors across three of them, leaving little to prove competitively.

Yet Ryan represents one of the few paydays large enough to disrupt a comfortable retirement. Crawford publicly brushes off the callouts, yet he keeps biting on the bait. Every response gives Ryan exactly what he wants: sustained interest, free promotion, and the lingering sense that Crawford’s competitive fire might still be burning. Ryan is playing the promotional game, plain and simple.

The idea that he genuinely cares about restoring Canelo Alvarez’s honor does not hold up under any serious examination. Heand Canelo spent years trading subtle jabs and outright criticism after their messy split from Eddy Reynoso’s gym. Ryan walked away from Team Canelo feeling dismissed, while Canelo openly questioned Ryan’s discipline and commitment. Wrapping himself in the Mexican flag to claim he wants to avenge his former stablemate is just theater designed to manufacture a narrative.

The reality comes down to leverage and bank accounts. Ryan just took care of Conor Benn, his profile is at an all-time peak, and his contract situation makes him the ultimate free agent prize. He knows His Excellency Turki Alalshikh holds the checkbook, and he knows Crawford holds a close relationship with Riyadh Season. If Ryan can convince Crawford to step back through the ropes, it generates the exact kind of massive, nine-figure global event that Turki loves to finance.

By attacking Crawford’s fame and pretending he is fighting on Canelo’s behalf, Ryan accomplishes two things at once: he baits a prideful champion into engaging on social media, and he positions himself as the only mega-money option capable of luring Crawford out of a comfortable retirement. It is purely self-serving, calculated business disguised as loyalty.

Ryan holds a massive commercial weapon in the American market. Canelo built a traditional, diehard pay-per-view empire over fifteen years, but Ryan commands a younger demographic that consumes the sport entirely differently. When you pair his chaotic viral reach with an opponent who actually commands respect, the box office numbers explode. Canelo negotiated from undisputed leverage and a decade of headlining Mexican holiday weekends when he secured that nine-figure package against Crawford.

Garcia does not have that historical equity, but he brings something Crawford sorely lacks: pure commercial buzz. Crawford has the belts, the historical greatness, and the pound-for-pound accolades, yet he never evolved into a mainstream draw on his own. Ryan brings the eyeballs, the casual sports fans, and the ticket sales. That creates the ultimate bargaining chip with Riyadh Season.

If Turki Alalshikh wants an event that captures mainstream American culture rather than just hardcore boxing purists, a Crawford-Garcia clash is one of the few pairings left on the table that checks every box. Ryan knows this, which is why he is setting the financial bar sky-high. He knows Crawford will not lace up the gloves again for standard money, and he knows he is the only active name who can justify that kind of purse to the backers in Saudi Arabia.

It is completely surprising that Shakur did not see right through it. In everyday conversation, telling someone “we should hang out one of these days” is code for “I hope I never run into you again.” In boxing, it is even worse. It is the ultimate polite dodge.

Ryan basically patted him on the head, tossed out an empty compliment for the cameras, and moved on. The fact that Shakur responded with enthusiasm instead of recognizing the brush-off shows how disconnected he is from his actual standing right now. He thinks he is a peer Ryan is eager to work with, while Ryan clearly views him as an unnecessary headache with zero upside.

When a fighter actually wants a match, they name dates, talk weight, and call promoters. They do not say “one day” while complaining about how impossible you are to deal with. Shakur took the bait completely. There is definitely a cultural disconnect there, but it is also pure boxer delusion fed by modern social media hype. Coming out of Newark, communication tends to be direct, blunt, and aggressive. In that environment, if somebody does not want to fight, they usually tell you to kick rocks, or they talk trash right to your face. If Ryan had outright insulted him, Shakur probably would have understood the situation immediately.

California, especially the Southern California media machine Ryan operates in, runs on polite Hollywood speak. People out here will smile, tell you “let’s do lunch sometime,” and act like your best friend while having zero intention of ever seeing you again. Ryan’s “one day, we should do it” is straight out of the Los Angeles playbook of saying no without looking like the bad guy. Shakur took the words literally because he expects a flat rejection to sound nasty.

Beyond the regional difference, Shakur is trapped in his own echo chamber. When you are an elite talent surrounded by a team telling you that you are the boogeyman, you convince yourself that everyone is genuinely dying to test themselves against you. He actually believes Ryan stays up at night thinking about proving who the better boxer is.

Ryan does not think like a purist; he thinks like a business. Taking that polite brush-off as genuine mutual interest shows just how badly Shakur misreads both the West Coast passive-aggressive dodge and his own actual market demand.

Ryan also saddled Shakur with the blame before any real talks could even start. That reputation is well earned. Stevenson already blew a massive clash against Devin Haney at 147 pounds by demanding a 144-pound catchweight handicap. Prior to that blunder, Stevenson attempted to pawn Haney off on his buddy Keyshawn Davis, only to see Davis pass on the bout as well.

“This man is hard to negotiate with” 🗣️

Ryan Garcia and Shakur Stevenson go back and forth about a future matchup 👀 pic.twitter.com/xy1SGuAzcU

— Ring Magazine (@ringmagazine) September 14, 2026

Shakur completely overestimates his market value. Outpointing Teofimo Lopez proved his technical skill, but delivering a boring, safety-first performance never grants a fighter the leverage to boss around the sport’s primary box office attractions. Ryan has outgrown 140 pounds anyway. Stevenson is a newcomer to the weight class. Garcia has no reason to drain himself or grant catchweight concessions just to cater to a defensive specialist who brings little commercial appeal to the ticket booth.

Idle since January, Shakur risks burning through the entire calendar year hunting unrealistic paydays while trying to dictate impossible terms. He desperately needs a realistic opponent, a signed contract, and an actual ring date. Ryan’s noncommittal comment will not put food on his table.

Tank’s response makes it clear that contact between the camps does not mean the rematch is close. Davis initially named 140 pounds, later offered 144, and now ridiculed Ryan’s insistence on the full welterweight limit.

Garcia revealed that Davis and Al Haymon reached out to open talks for a rematch. Instead of jumping at the offer, Garcia immediately laid down the law: the fight happens at the full 147-pound limit, and Davis must take a tune-up first.

“I can confirm Gervonta and Al have contacted my team. 147 or nothing,” Ryan said on X. “And I want him to get a tune up fight and be at his best when we fight. He has some stuff to handle but we for sure going to get it going on. Let’s rumble.”

Telling Davis to go find an interim opponent is the ultimate power move. It treats Davis like an unranked challenger auditioning for a shot at the crown, not a pound-for-pound star. Davis is coming off a flat, controversial draw against Lamont Roach, an outing that destroyed his invincibility and wounded his box-office appeal. He needs Garcia to restore his standing, but Ryan refuses to hand him a lifeline.

Ordering Gervonta into a tune-up also eliminates every built-in excuse about inactivity while Ryan handles business of his own. Garcia plans to defend his belt in December or January, targeting Angel Fierro or Isaac “Pitbull” Cruz.

Taking Cruz would be a direct psychological attack on Tank. Cruz gave Davis twelve grueling rounds in 2021. If Garcia blows Cruz out inside a few rounds, Davis will enter negotiations with zero credibility remaining.

Davis already senses his control slipping away. He tried offering 140 pounds, then floated 144 from burner accounts. Ryan shut down both numbers without hesitation. Fresh off obliterating Conor Benn in two rounds, Ryan has zero reason to drain himself.

Davis spent years calling the shots. Now he is the needy party begging for terms, and Ryan is perfectly content to make him wait outside.