In most countries, boxing masters are more than athletes. They are national treasures. These are symbols of pride, fight and identity. They are honored, decorated and celebrated no matter what happens in the ring.
In Mexico, Julio César Chávez Sr. He is still worshiped as a national hero, almost inviolable in terms of the status of decades after his perfection. Canelo Álvarez can divide the opinion, but the country never turns to him. The presidents hugged their hands, and the entire arenas explode in the songs of their names.
Pacquiao was not just cheering in the Philippines of Manna Pacquiao. He was elected senator, taking into account the highest honors of the nation, and accepted both victory and failure.
In Great Britain Anthony Joshua received OBE, Tyson Fury attracted hundreds of thousands to parades, and Ricky Hatton had whole cities singing his name.
In Japan Nayya Inoue fights at 9am and still sells arenas. Both state officials and corporations set up to celebrate him as a symbol of domestic perfection.
In Ukraine, Vasyl Lomachenko and Oleksandr Usyk became living symbols of rebellion during the war, directly associated with national pride and military courage.
But it is different in the United States.
America, exception
The US does not gather around their masters. He breaks them too often. Local fighters are booed, while foreign opponents cheered like adopted heroes.
Floyd Mayweather was one of the greatest defensive geniuses that sport has ever seen. However, in America he was booed, called boredom and forced to accept the role of a villain only to sell tickets.
Deontay Wilder was a knockout machine, heavyweight with nuclear power, but he never got the same embrace of Anthony Joshua, who enjoyed in Great Britain. In the arenas in the USA, Wilder often looked like a guest, drowned out by traveling British fans.
Andre Ward was everything that fans say that the Olympic medalist, an invincible champion, a supple, family man and a role model outside the ring. Despite this, he was underestimated and emphasized, his brilliance rejected as “dull”.
Terenka Crawford was flawless, destructive in the ring, humble and respectful outside of it. However, Omaha is the only place where he is treated as a master; Throughout the country, he never received a platform or love he deserves.
Even Shakur Stevenson, a adolescent, undefeated technician, was booed in his yard Newark for being “too technical”.
Lesson? In America, it doesn’t matter who you are or how you fight.
If you are skillful and defensive, you are “dull”.
If you are an artist KO, you are “one -dimensional”.
If you are bold, you are “arrogant”.
If you are humble, you are “dull”.
There is no victorious formula.
British contrast
Meanwhile, loyalty in the Atlantic is unconditional.
Golovkin learned this on his own skin. When he fought Kell Brook in London, he was an invincible terror of sport in medium weight. But when Walkouts began, Brook was cheering rafters, and Golovkin was booed. The message was straightforward: in Great Britain you support your man, regardless of the chances.
The same loyalty is the reason why Ricky Hatton was worn like a king even with failure and why Tyson Fury, despite scandals and failures, still fills the arena with voices that never turn against him.
Olympic tip
Even at the Olympic Games, the difference is obvious.
In Cuba, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and Ukraine, medalists celebrate like national treasures.
In the United States, Olympic boxers return home unnoticed, often changing into a professional without a fanfare that their medals should bring.
The question that hangs
Other nations celebrate their fighters because they are them.
In America, the masters are booed, regardless of whether they are offensive or defensive, humble or bold, knockout artists or spotless boxers.
So when the masters are hated no matter what they do, what is left to explain?
Other nations celebrate their fighters as national treasures.
Why is America the only place where Boos drowns out the flag?
