Boxing is the micro habit we have in between listening to people talking about boxing
Mark Robinson/Canelo PromotionsAs I’ve always said, when Saul “Canelo” Alvarez headlines an all-day pay-per-view on Halloween in a war zone in Saudi Arabia, you have to write a running diary about it. Even when there’s a non-zero chance that running diary will end abruptly with the description: “Feed goes out. Doesn’t come back on. Maybe going ahead with this fight card was a bad idea.”
Well, good news: That didn’t happen.
(I guess I should have written “spoiler alert” first, for those who were unsure whether missiles flew in the vicinity of The Venue in Riyadh on Saturday.)
The fight card began on time at 10:00 a.m. ET, and it ended not so on time some nine hours later. Nothing was canceled or interrupted by violence of the non-pugilistic variety. And all of my usual guests — International Boxing Hall of Famer Nigel Collins, New Jersey Boxing Hall of Famer Bill Dettloff and International Boxing Hall of Fame Induction Weekend volunteer David Kushin — were able to attend.
So here goes with the return of the BoxingScene PPV running diary, for the Halloween day “Mexico vs. the World” Canelo-Christian Mbilli card, where for every treat (a couple of rounds of boxing action) we got a trick (endless studio blather):
10:19 a.m.: My guests aren’t planning to arrive until about 1 p.m. (the PPV portion of the card is scheduled for 1:45), but I intend to watch from the moment DAZN goes on the air — a mark I miss by about 19 minutes because I have to run out to the grocery store to pick up tomato pie (basically cold pizza without cheese) and assorted snacks. So I TOTALLY missed the first two rounds of Brayan Leon vs. Hector Aguirre because I TOTALLY would never have DAZN streaming on my phone and the phone positioned on my dashboard as I drive home from the food store, because that would be dangerous and I am an adult who makes smart decisions. Anyway, Leon-Aguirre, an eight-rounder between unbeaten super middleweights, is in round 3 when I plop my rear on the couch.
10:27: Broadcaster Sergio Mora questions his own choice of the word “sanctuary” and says he was also considering “refuge,” and blow-by-blow man Todd Grisham tells him he made the right choice. Wait a minute, are you telling me it’s possible to have a friendly conversation about Sergio’s vocabulary rather than insulting him when he tries to use an SAT word? Hmm. Weird.
10:35: The arena appears nearly empty, except we can see in the second row on the hard cam the duo of Richard Schaefer and Rick Reeno. Which means the viewing audience gets to play the guessing game, “What is Reeno’s Halloween costume?” (That is a Halloween costume, right? Nobody would go out in public dressed that way otherwise, surely.) I’ve narrowed it down to country music star, pro wrestling manager and aspiring porn actor.
10:43: The opening bout goes the eight round distance, and Thomas Treiber has the scores: 77-75 and 78-74 twice, all for Puerto Rico’s Leon, giving “the world” a 1-0 lead over Mexico.
10:46: I need to stop and lodge my annoyance over people making a storyline out of the fact that Canelo is the challenger, not the champion. Who cares? He’s the A-side. Mbilli is the one trying to take what he has, not the other way around, regardless of who previously captured an interim trinket. We all need to do a better job of ignoring the alphabets.
10:50: Ringwalks begin for our second bout, undefeated Mexican middleweight Emiliano Rojo against Romania’s Flavius Biea — who is 37 years old and sports our first dad-bod of the card. I am tempted to nickname him “Flabius,” but, that’s unfair — he’s more soft than flabby. It does remind me, though, of a time in college when we met this guy with long, flowing hair who was terribly out of shape and, this being the mid ‘90s, at the height of Fabio’s fame, we began referring to him as “Flabio” behind his back. It was funny then, and it’s funny now.
11:09: The ref stops it with Biea taking a beating along the ropes at 1:38 of round 4, tying the score at Mexico 1, World 1. The first fight of the day was competitive and enjoyable to watch. Rojo-Biea was neither of those things.
11:24: Ringwalks begin for Bek Nurmaganbet vs. Marcos Vazquez. Nurmaganbet sounds like the name of a Kazakh online sportsbook.
11:31: We might just have our 2026 Knockout of the Year. In the second round, Nurmaganbet scores with a right-left-right combination, the left hand in the middle being the key punch that separates Vazquez from his senses. The Mexican underdog is down and all the way out, which is unfortunate for him, but as fans, watching that replay over and over will carry us through this undercard.
11:57: Uh-oh. The first yawn of the day escapes my mouth as the broadcasters kill time between bouts due to the early finishes in the last two fights.
12:03 p.m.: Undefeated local junior lightweight Sultan Almohammed makes his entrance, and a crowd of dozens pops for him.
12:30: Almohammed appears to drop Erick Villegas in round 6 on a delayed reaction to a body shot, but the ref rules it a slip and buys Villegas time by ordering his corner to wipe up a wet spot on the canvas. Not that it matters in the final round of a one-sided fight, but this flies in the face of all of boxing’s traditions of favoritism toward the house fighter. A few minutes later, Almohammed wins a 60-54, 59-55, 59-55 unanimous decision.
12:38: Staring at a little downtime between fights, I decide to take Otis Dumbledore Raskin out for a quick dog walk before the guests arrive — and Bill and Nigel pull up that very minute. So it turns out to be an even quicker walk than intended, but Otis does accomplish the liquid end of his mission, which is good enough for now.
12:58: Featherweights David Picasso and Carl Martin are in the ring, and Bill declares, as he looks at Picasso, that he can’t root for guys with their hair parted on the side. Fair enough. Meanwhile, it’s occurring to me that I’ve rarely heard a less Mexican-sounding name than “David Picasso,” and I’ve certainly never heard a less Filipino-sounding name than “Carl Martin.”
1:00: David (Kushin, not Picasso) arrives in the middle of the opening round of the final pre-PPV fight, and the gang’s all here now. As always, David comes armed with vegan baked goods from Papa Ganache. He brought their apple pie once a few years ago, I raved about it, and he’s been bringing it ever since. And I’ve been inviting him back ever since for that reason and that reason alone.
1:08: Picasso and Martin are delivering outstanding two-way action in round 3, the former battling through a gusher of a bloody nose. Our conversation turns to the fact that the DAZN crew isn’t in Riyadh and is instead calling the fights from a studio in London. Which prompts Bill to wonder aloud, “Wouldn’t it be funny if London got bombed?” I don’t think he meant “ha-ha” funny. More like “ironic and peculiar” funny. Which it would indeed be.
1:19: Somehow the conversation has turned to tales of people jumping out of windows. It’s dark, but less dark, I suppose, than talk of bombing major cities.
1:23: Martin goes down in round 7 on what appears to be a slip, which has Nigel enraged — but the slo-mo replay between rounds confirms that Picasso landed a flush jab and that’s what caused Martin’s glove to touch the canvas. So, nice call, referee Hector Afu. It’s a good thing he got it right, as this has been a close fight where one knockdown call could make all the difference.
1:40: One knockdown call did not make all the difference. The scores are read, and it’s Picasso 95-94 on one card, but Martin, despite touching the mat, wins 95-94 and 96-93 on the other two cards to capture an upset split decision — and he promptly collapses to the canvas as emotion overtakes him. It’s a beautiful ending to a thoroughly entertaining undercard fight.
1:41: Meal time! Tomato pie is sliced, beer bottles opened, Coke caps unscrewed, etc. We’re eating relatively quickly, since the main card is scheduled to begin in four minutes and I’m trying to keep the food consumption confined to the kitchen rather than risking tomato sauce spills on the couch or Otis trying to steal food off plates. As it turns out, we could have chewed as slowly as we wanted to …
2:18: A full 33 minutes into the main broadcast, after a dose of studio chatter between Scotts Kate and Malik and Chris Mannix that under no circumstances should have lasted more than five minutes — but apparently DAZN thinks subscribers are paying for the privilege of watching live podcasts — the ringwalks for Reito Tsutsumi vs. Raymundo Rojas at last begin. We soon observe that Reeno is wearing a Mexican flag bandana under his cowboy hat, an interesting touch. I guess I can add “confused Breaking Bad cartel extra” to the list of Halloween costume possibilities.
2:30: A chopping left hand drops the overmatched Rojas early in round 2. A combination drops him again in the corner moments later and this seems a fine time to halt the mismatch, but it’s allowed to go a few seconds longer until ref Andrei Cheveliov calls it at 2:27 of the round with Rojas on his feet but taking a beating. A reasonably impressive win for the now 6-0 junior lightweight Tsutsumi, and the tally hits 5-1 in favor of the world over Mexico with just three fights to go. So, congratulations, citizens of the world (not including Mexico).
2:54: The broadcasters have been vamping since that early ending to Tsutsumi-Rojas, but we’re talking over their podcast, and surely our conversation is more interesting. It includes Nigel declaring, “I’ve always wanted to get high with Bob Arum.” See, told ya this was more interesting than anything going on in the DAZN studio.
3:01: The ringwalks for Rafael Espinoza vs. Ricardo Blandon begin, a mere 31 minutes after the end of the previous fight. Moments later, in discussing the slender physique of Espinoza, Grisham pulls off a mild humblebrag in noting that he’s 6-foot-1, about 195 pounds and considered “skinny.”
3:17: Uh-oh, another very long podcast is about to start. Blandon is cut over the left eye in the third round — inarguably from a punch — and ref Janny Guzman calls time to have the ringside physician check it out, and the doctor recommends he halt the fight. That’s that, TKO win for Espinoza at 1:22 of the third.
3:19: On the one hand, Blandon’s cut was directly over the eye and looked deep and nasty. On the other hand, his cutman applied a little Vaseline and, here we are two minutes after the fight’s conclusion, and it has already stopped bleeding. I think I agree with Mora that they should have let him try to get to the end of the round and give his corner a chance to work on the cut.
3:24: Espinoza gets on the mic, and it turns out he’s a pretty good singer. For those who missed the pay-per-view, the best way to describe this scene is, think Tyson Fury, but without the part where you want to jam icepicks into both of your ears.
3:26: On to dessert — hello, Papa Ganache! Now that we have a sense of the pacing of the card, we’re in no rush to finish up in the kitchen and return to the living room.
4:16: It has been 57 minutes since the last fight ended, and they’re interviewing Lester Martinez inside the arena. I scroll through Twitter and see reports that the reason they’re continuing to waste everyone’s time is because they’ve been ordered to wait for Turki Alashikh to arrive at the venue. Seriously. The desires of one powerful man outweigh the preferences of hundreds of thousands of paying customers. Welcome to planet Earth circa 2026.
4:25: Tris Dixon wins best tweet of the undercard:
Boxing is the micro habit we have in between listening to people talking about boxing
4:26: Tris’ shaming apparently worked; Jaime Munguia and Nikita Zon are beginning their ringwalks. The referee is Tony Weeks, who we all kinda thought was retired following the Vergil Ortiz Jnr-Frederick Lawson debacle, but apparently not. Some parts of Weeks are looking a fair bit slimmer these days. Not all parts. But some parts. Anyway, Weeks provides the inspiration for the second-best tweet of the undercard, courtesy of David Greisman:
We waited so long for Munguia vs. Zon that Tony Weeks is now Tony Months.
4:36: The broadcast feed goes out for several seconds, and we’re all thinking the worst. Admit it, you were too. When visuals return, Munguia is on the canvas — but it was apparently ruled a slip.
4:40: The crowd cheers as Alalshikh enters the arena. Go figure. Then the television audience is treated to a thrilling replay of Alalshikh arriving at the building a few minutes earlier.
4:44: Zon is awkward and is giving the heavily favored Munguia problems, dishing out some quality shots along the ropes. Meanwhile, because “Zon” rhymes with “DAZN,” my stupid brain is trying to formulate a joke about how Munguia thought he was signing up for the Zon standard plan but instead ended up taking on the Zon ultimate package.
4:55: Just when it seems Munguia is shaking off his slow start and taking charge of the fight, Zon hurts him badly early in the sixth round and soon sends him to the canvas — though Weeks rules no knockdown. Zon piles it on but appears to punch himself out to an extent, and now it’s Munguia hurting Zon! It’s an instant contender for Round of the Year, and Kushin is clapping for the fighters from 6,600 miles away. Boxing at its best is just so damned entertaining. As far as I know, verbal studio analysis of boxing has never led anyone to clap from the couch.
5:07: You have to be flexible as a sports bettor. Whereas at the end of that sixth round a knockout one way or the other might have felt inevitable, now it’s the start of the ninth and neither guy seems to have enough left anymore to hurt his counterpart. So I look up the live betting odds on the fight to go the distance and plunk down about half a tomato pie at -150.
5:14: You also have to be flexible as a homeowner. Trick-or-treaters could start arriving any minute, and I don’t want to have to get up in final rounds of Munguia-Zon or during the main event to pretend to care which Disney princess some random 4-year-old is dressed as. So I place the candy basket on a tray table outside the front door, with a note to “Take 2.” The honor system will fail as soon as the first group of 13-year-old boys trick-or-treating without parental supervision arrives, but so be it. I can’t be troubled to answer the door repeatedly on a boxing PPV night.
5:24: The co-featured bout does indeed go the distance, I’m about one-third of a tomato pie richer, and Munguia prevails by fair scores of 117-111 twice and 116-112. I now propose a guessing game: What time will the opening bell for the main event ring? (For the record, DAZN advertised main event ringwalks as scheduled for 4:30.) David pessimistically says 6:18. Nigel optimistically goes with 5:55. Bill semi-optimistically guesses 6:00.
5:42: Wow, national anthems are starting already. This bodes well for Nigel’s guess (and for boxing fans’ collective sanity). Turns out it is possible to keep a fight card moving, you just need to get past the part where your benefactor is going to be sharpening his knives (I mean that figuratively, of course) if you don’t wait for him to show up.
5:56: The bell rings! Nigel is the winner, off by a single minute. His prize for winning is a heaping spoonful of pride. And an extra slice of vegan apple pie, if he wants it. Bill observes, meanwhile, that both Alvarez and Mbilli appear bone dry. Clearly, Bill’s hero, George Foreman, rubbed off on him.
6:06: In round 3 of a fight that has thus far been close and difficult to score, Alvarez leans against the ropes and waves Mbilli in to scrap with him. Mora observes that moving forward isn’t really in Canelo’s repertoire anymore. Indeed, it’s not. And he isn’t much of a power puncher these days either. But damn if his defense and his reflexes aren’t still as exceptional as ever.
6:12: Haven’t we been told ad nauseum that Alalshikh is one of the world’s biggest boxing fans and that’s his chief motivation for steering so much of his country’s money toward the sport? Well, for a boxing superfan, he sure seems to be spending a lot of time turning his whole body toward the guy seated next to him, chatting it up and never looking in the direction of the ring while Canelo Alvarez is performing about 15 feet from him. Good thing they held up the broadcast to accommodate this guy.
6:19: Late in round 6, Canelo rips home a straight right hand, his best punch of the fight. At round’s end, I have the fight even, 57-57.
6:23: That sixth-round right hand is now Canelo’s second-best punch of the fight, because he just buzzed Mbilli with a right uppercut. Not too long after, Grisham notes, “Mbilli appears to be running out of ideas.” Yep. He can’t outbox Alvarez, his pressure doesn’t bother Alvarez and he can’t just open up and go for broke because Canelo is one of the best counterpunchers of his era.
6:28: For Mbilli, the fight goes from slipping away to slipped away when ref Afu deducts a point for hitting Canelo behind the head. On the one hand, yes, that was a foul (for which Mbilli instantly apologized). On the other hand, Afu didn’t appear to issue any previous warnings, and he appeared to decide a penalty was in order only after Canelo instructed him to take a point.
6:33: Bill: “Canelo can still fight. Shows you how good Bud Crawford is.”
6:45: Mbilli opens up in the closing seconds of round 12 and gets rocked with a counter right hand as punishment. Yep, it’s easy to instruct someone to go for broke against Canelo, but it doesn’t work. In all three of his losses, he was outboxed by pound-for-pound-level, Hall-of-Fame-bound opponents with exceptional skills. Until he starts to get washed, the Mbillis of the world don’t have a chance against him.
6:48: Scores are 115-112, 116-111 and 117-110, all for Alvarez. If anything, the judges were perhaps a bit friendly to Mbilli.
6:49: Sergio credits Canelo and notes that he’s proven over the years he “wants to fight the best.” Bill responds: “Except for [David] Benavidez.”
6:57: At the conclusion of the postfight interviews, the whole PPV party hops on a postfight livestream podcast with Jason Langendorf and Lukie Ketelle. You see, there’s a time and a place for blathering about boxing. That time is either before the fights start or after they end. Call me crazy, but during a fight card, I prefer to watch fights.
I’m relieved that worst-case scenarios were avoided in Riyadh. Now let’s see what we can do about scenarios that involve charging fans 80 bucks for 29 rounds of boxing and two hours of podcasts.

Eric Raskin is a veteran boxing journalist with nearly 30 years of experience covering the sport for such outlets as BoxingScene, The Good Fight, ESPN, Grantland, Playboy, and The Ring (where he served as managing editor for seven years). He also co-hosted The HBO Boxing Podcast, Showtime Boxing with Raskin & Mulvaney, The Interim Champion Boxing Podcast with Raskin & Mulvaney, and Ring Theory. He has won four first-place writing awards from the BWAA, for his work with The Ring, Grantland, HBO, and BoxingScene. Outside boxing, he is the senior editor of CasinoReports and the author of 2014’s The Moneymaker Effect. He can be reached on X, BlueSky, or LinkedIn, or via email at RaskinBoxing@yahoo.com.



