A confession: I’m no expert in the art of fighting. The closest I’ve come to fisticuffs was a college bar brawl where I threw a single punch (I was the champ!). But boy, do I love a cultural spectacle! And the buzz leading up to the Mike Tyson (age 58, a $20 million payday) and internet God Jake Paul (age 27, a $40 million payday) fight is palpable. You can practically taste the excitement.
Getting ready at the hotel, my cousin Chad Holtzman quips, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for this.” I admit that someone asked if I used “Sports Kings,” leaving me utterly baffled and needing to google what that was. (It’s a sports betting website). But chaos is captivating, and I am all in for the experience. Our friend Dane Berkowitz, the catalyst for this adventure, rounds out our trio for the big event.
Naturally, I want to look the part: red snakeskin Versace cowboy boots, a distressed denim jacket with Navajo beading, all topped with a brown Kemosabe cowboy hat. Chad rocks a blue suit, and Dane looks like, well, a finance bro. We three “nice Jewish boys,” are a comedic take on “The Hangover” trio. (I later spot a guy doing a perfect Zach Galifianakis impression, baby and all).
The night kicks off with a hiccup: the floor access wristbands. At the event, you need a wristband to access floor seating. It’s an absurdly orderly system in a place bursting with unrestrained energy. If this was in Manhattan, people would be ready to riot. If you’ve ever been to an Eagles game, you’ll know what I mean; mention anything, and it feels like the crowd is ready to set the place ablaze. Not in Texas – people are riled to party, but remain surprisingly polite.
I am blown away by the leviathan that is AT&T Stadium. To find our way to the field is a maze of endless suites and club boxes. Wandering though the madness I gawk at the “fashion.” Picture this: a guy sporting a diamond-encrusted necklace of Donald trump’s face complete with MAGA hat. Someone else sports a scary “Scream” costume. A group of kids approach me, quipping, “what do you call a gay dinosaur? Their punchline: “Lick-a lot-a-puss.” I throw a curveball and respond: “You need to ask, ‘what do you call a lesbian dinosaur?’” Their bewildered faces are priceless.
We locate seats and stand in the middle of the action – just twenty rows back from the ring. I feel ready to rumble. I do have a few distractions like my mother constantly texting, worried I might lose my cowboy hat for making spectacle of myself – as if everyone else in Texas wasn’t also rocking the same look.
A woman in a Pucci dress sits next to me looking absolutely horrified during the Katie Taylor vs. Amanda Serrano fight. I also wince when I see Serrano’s eye looking like it had a lip-flip. Ouch! This is however the most exciting battle of the night and gives me a sense of what it must have been like to witness the gladiators at the Colosseum. Even though I feel like Serrano should have won, I am amazed how fast I can get into the whole scene. I am super-charged by the electric energy in the air.
And Jake Paul’s entrance—it is a surreal, almost unhinged moment straight out of an ’80s drug dealer movie. He rolls onto stage in a sparkling leisure suit by Mastermind Japan, accompanied by brother Logan and a caged pigeon, all to the melody of Phil Collins’ soaring In the Air Tonight. The entrance is an opulent spectacle for someone so undeserving and the crowd feels the same, erupting with a loud chorus of “F*** Jake Paul!” Clearly, Paul wears the villain’s cape and by the time Tyson appears, the excitement reaches fever pitch. Clad in all black with “LF*GO!” (Tyson’s energy patch company) emblazoned on his shirt, Tyson is ready to take care of business.
With twenty-two knockouts under his belt, Tyson seems unstoppable. But there’s a reason they say time flies when you’re having fun— two minutes feel like an eternity, especially by round 4 when Tyson is worn out. It is only downhill from there.
In a twist of fate, the evening culminates in a decidedly anticlimactic finish as Jake Paul snags the win. But what a night! From the laughter, the shock and awe, and the wild mix of life forms co-existing moment to moment, I can safely say I’ve just dipped my toes into the exhilarating world of boxing…and I’m here for it! – ALEXANDER HANKIN
