In March, I wrote a column titled “Anthony Joshua vs. Jake Paul and the soft launch of banterweight” thinking at the time I was merely adding to the constant flow of banter coursing through the sport in 2025. It’s why, on a slow news days, I felt no way about putting those two names together – Anthony Joshua and Jake Paul – and then borrowing Eddie Hearn’s favourite phrase. It’s also why I created a division for such matchups, aware of both the gradual leaning in that direction and the growing acceptance of dumb fights in the name of “banter”.
Well, now, just eight months on, it has actually happened. Against all the odds, my prophecy has been realised and it has become a real thing, banterweight. Forget any soft launch, now we have a hard launch to coincide with the announcement this afternoon of Joshua vs. Paul on December 19 in Miami, Florida, live on Netflix.
Isn’t it cool?
Isn’t it funny?
Erm, no. Not really.
Silly though it is, boxing tends to be a rather dangerous sport, too, and therefore banter is something that should be used sparingly and carefully and should never be left in the wrong hands. If it is, it can prove to be deadly and an overdose can often only be fixed with an antidote. In this case, it is fixed either by a dose of reality or by what is commonly known as the old double bluff.
Without one or the other, fighters are free to hide behind banter as much as they want. Jake Paul, for instance, has for years been able to stash call-outs of Saul “Canelo” Alvarez and Anthony Joshua in the bottom drawer labelled “banter” and avoid any backlash for speaking out of turn. “Only joking,” he might have said if ever pressed on it – or, scarier still, forced to back up his words. “Not really.” He could then continue to call out the world’s best boxers while fighting basketball players, mixed martial artists, fellow influencers, and drug-addled geriatrics, all the while telling the boxing industry how it needs to improve.
“I want to fight Anthony Joshua because I know that I will fucking beat Anthony Joshua’s ass,” said Paul on a podcast back in March. “He doesn’t have a chin, and he has no skill, and he’s stiff. I love you, Anthony, and we’re friends, but I want to fight you.”
He was, of course, just saying stuff, Paul. It’s what you do on a podcast and it’s what many do nowadays to grab attention and fame. Deep down, though, for all his bluster, the suspicion back then was that Paul, a cruiserweight, did not truly believe he belonged in a ring with Anthony Joshua. Besides, anybody who watched what Joshua did to Francis Ngannou, another interloper, would surely understand why.
In addition, while plenty have tried to spin the narrative that Jake Paul had “carried” a 58-year-old Mike Tyson for eight rounds last year, the truth, something clear to anyone who knows boxing, was that Paul was (a) unable to find or create an opening to finish the fight and (b) not prepared to take the requisite risk. If in doubt, watch again the first minute of the fight – the only time Tyson moved – and focus on the look on Paul’s face and the skittish way in which he eluded danger. Even in that short period of time, the novice felt something; enough to not take liberties, enough to settle for just winning, enough to “carry” his 58-year-old opponent to the final bell.
Considering that performance, one can only imagine the kind of fear Jake Paul would feel when in the ring with someone like Joshua, a two-time world heavyweight champion. Not even for money, or banter, would such long-lasting trauma be worth it, we all believed.
“For me, we’d do it for the banter,” said Eddie Hearn, Joshua’s promoter, eight months ago. “AJ would fight Jake Paul. But if Jake Paul wants to step up and fight Anthony Joshua, he’ll need the relevant insurance.
“The only thing that was disappointing was that he [Paul] said 2026. That’s like me saying, ‘Yeah, LA Olympics for the surfing, 2028… I’ll be there’. Do it in 2025 if you really want to do it. You’re not going to get much better at this stage.
“But those two have spoken. I spoke to AJ this morning and he said, ‘Listen, of course I’d fight him’. We know Jake creates massive events and you know that is going to create unbelievable viewership. And, no disrespect to Jake Paul, it’s a straightforward night’s work.”
In terms of strategies, nobody in boxing has exploited banter better than Eddie Hearn during his time as the face of Matchroom Boxing. Not only is he the promoter with the greatest gift of the gab, and the best since Don King, Hearn has also managed to ingratiate himself with the public thanks to his cheek and his charm and by never, on the face of it, taking himself too seriously. This approach, combined with a willingness to stay visible and do every single interview, has in turn created a culture of banter within British boxing and allowed banter to pass for various things, including media interviews, press conferences, and, apparently, mismatches.
In some respects, it has been used as a shield; protection. It has replaced tough questions, it has replaced serious subjects, and it has replaced the need to do the right thing. Behind banter, you see, any promoter or mega-rich financier can now essentially hide, ready to say “only joking” or “not really” should it all go wrong or should their actions ever be questioned. Behind banter dumb fights can now be made, dumb behaviour can be excused, and a sport once known for its danger and its high barrier to entry feels liberated to open its legs to anyone and everyone, especially if they come with banter and a massive… following.
But what, in the end, is banter in the context of boxing? Is it a fight like Anthony Joshua vs. Jake Paul, which would no doubt damage Jake Paul but also shut up Jake Paul and do a lot of good for boxing in the process? Is it Eddie Hearn harmlessly singing a song to end an interview? Or is it Chris Eubank Jnr bringing an egg to a press conference and smashing it across the face of Conor Benn to remind him of his past?
I don’t know, to be honest. But if it could be argued that the notion of banter has accelerated the dumbing down of an already silly sport, there is now every chance that it could, in quite the plot twist, also become the thing that returns it to sanity.
