Recent events have forced us to consider and reconsider our greatest American intuitions.  Who should we rescue and who should we let sink under their own incompetence?  The events of Saturday night should make our choices clear—regardless of how you feel about the auto industry, we definitely need Fight Night to come back and to last well into the 21^st century.

Boxing is unlike any other American sport—it is not daily, like baseball, or weekly, like football and racing.  No, a good boxing match is like an expensive dinner out: it can’t happen too often or else it loses its luster, it can’t be the same main course every time or else it gets boring,  and ultimately it’s expensive with no guarantees.  That makes the great meals even better, but it makes the disappointing meals sting the most.  Fortunately for boxing fans, while Saturday night’s appetizers were subpar, the main course was a special meal designed to fatten us up and hold us over through what seems like a constant and interminable winter. 

The very nature of a boxing match is unlike anything else.  It is a special event not just for the people that attend but for all of us at home.  The act of paying $50 (or $64.95 if you watched De La Hoya/Pacquiao in high-def) makes it a necessity for a crowd to gather at one place.  Unlike the Super Bowl, or even Monday Night Football, a big boxing match is too niche, yet still too expensive for most bars to show; so we need to make our own atmosphere.  We invite friends, we buy a lot of food and beer, and even when everybody is too busy to find time to hang out the fight will force our hand and make us drop any other plans.  We don’t need commentators or ex-players to tell us what play they just ran, we saw him drop his left and come in with the right-hook and everyone shouted their appreciation.  But this rare and special night of friends gathering to spend an evening watching a great fight is slowly dying.

There are no more Muhammad Alis, Mike Tysons, or Drederick Tatums to draw in the crowds and make it a true main event.  We’ve had undercards masquerading as contenders for too long.  Boxing itself is no longer a heavyweight.  The biggest fighters have instead gone to UFC, and frankly so have many boxing fans.  In fact if you look at a list of the best boxers in the world today Manny Pacquiao, at age 29, would probably be the only one younger than 30.  And HBO’s ringside commentating crew is a sad reminder that boxing fans are much, much older than that.  The only big draw left is Oscar De La Hoya and at the age of 35, with 44 professional fights, he was never the most prolific fighter—in fact Saturday’s fight was the first time since ’04 that he had less than one year in between fights.  Meanwhile Manny Pacquiao came in with 52 career fights, and De La Hoya marked his third opponent in 2008 alone.  Pacquiao is the people’s champ of the few of us that are left, and this clearly was a changing of the guard; unfortunately, there appear to be far too few fighters capable of taking the torch from Pac-Man anytime soon.

Boxing has more problems than can be listed here but a quick one would look something like: no unified ruling body, dirty backroom deals, and no clear schedule or future plans.  But any and all of these problems can be cured, and frankly none of these problems permanently prevent a good fight night and a good crowd.  HBO is doing their best to build a following for fighters on their regular fight lineup, culminating in a fighter getting a spot in the Pay-Per-View lineup.  In fact HBO has the deepest pockets and most desire to mold boxing back into the mainstream event that it once was.  There are personalities and talent within the sport, all they need is the proper protection and proper avenues to ultimately turn into household names.

On Saturday night, De La Hoya didn’t want to get off his stool for the 9^th round, and in fact during the 8 previous rounds he never threw his trademark jab or really seemed desperate for the knockout he’d been boasting about landing.  Even before the fight his role has become a promoter more than a showcase boxer.  Hopefully with his pending retirement he continues to do more good for the sport outside of the ring—the 24/7 HBO reality show that has followed De La Hoya around before his last few fights is a great blueprint for how to develop drama during the long waits between big fights.  Perhaps the Golden Boy’s greatest gift to boxing will be to regrow the sport even when it’s not him in the ring.