Millions will tune in to watch the brash YouTuber get his comeuppance – the fight will likely go on as long as Joshua decides to let it

An undersized loudmouth disruptor arrives in Miami for a no-hope fight with one of history’s most destructive heavyweights, exploiting every available lever of new media to amplify his delusions of grandeur to mass audiences. There are mounting concerns for his mental and physical wellbeing, with doctors, commentators and former fighters openly questioning his soundness of mind and wondering whether he might end up in hospital – or worse. The oddsmakers have made him an 8-1 longshot, a price that feels almost charitable given the epic scale of the mismatch. The buildup revolves less around the favorite than around the smaller man’s mouth: his noise, his presence, and the creeping suspicion that spectacle may finally have outrun sense.

Cassius Clay wound up shocking the world back in 1964 when he made Sonny Liston quit on his stool after six rounds at the Miami Beach Convention Center. But it’s right here, on the eve of Friday night’s scheduled eight-round showdown between Jake Paul and Anthony Joshua at the nearby Kaseya Center, where those curious rhymes with the past come to a screeching halt.

The ring’s standout problem-solver steps away from ‘competition’ on his own terms and with an unblemished record across five divisions

Terence “Bud” Crawford has always fought like a man who wanted to leave no room for argument. Not simply to win, but to win so cleanly that dissent collapses on contact. So his retirement announcement on Tuesday didn’t feel like a sudden fade-out so much as the closing of a file: tidy, decisive, signed in his own hand. Three months after scaling two weight divisions to outclass Canelo Álvarez in Las Vegas and become the undisputed super-middleweight champion, Crawford says he is stepping away “on his own terms”. In the cruellest sport, that is rarer than a perfect record.

Boxing is purpose-built to keep you in. To lure you back with one more payday, one more belt, one more chance to settle a score that only exists because the promoters or the public insist it should. The hurt business has never been conducive to happy endings. The preferred vernacular is violent or sad or compromised: a stoppage you don’t see coming, a dubious decision, a diminished version of yourself preserved forever in high definition.