Are Promoters Building Stars or Wrapping Them in Bubble Wrap? Time to Put Up or Shut Up.

By Billie Sloane

Let’s cut the noise for a minute. In today’s boxing world, everyone’s shouting about “building stars.” Promoters love to parade around, telling us they’ve got the next pay-per-view king, the new 'face of boxing,' or the second coming of Ali. But here’s the real question: how many of these promoters are actually building legends? And how many are just packaging fighters in bubble wrap, feeding them soft touches, and selling hype like it’s gold dust?

Too many fighters today are having their records padded like a stat-padding striker in a beer league. It’s high time we said it plain—boxing fans aren’t stupid. They see through the endless excuses, the cherry-picked opponents, and the overhyped stars who get world title shots without breaking a sweat. Boxing isn’t about keeping a glossy record intact—it’s about stepping up, taking risks, and proving you belong.

Building Legends: A Dying Art?

There was a time when fighters had to fight—truly fight—to earn their place at the top. Look back at the legends of the sport: Muhammad Ali, Marvin Hagler, Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran. These were men who didn’t just take on challenges—they sought them out. They craved the biggest fights, the toughest battles, the most dangerous opponents, because they knew that’s what it took to become great.

But what do we see today? A bunch of prospects treated like they’re porcelain, their promoters more interested in protecting their “O” than testing their mettle. Fighters turning pro at 20-0 with opponents who have a combined record that wouldn’t frighten your nan. Are these the future legends of the sport? Or just shiny, over-polished stars with more Instagram followers than knockouts?

Building Legends or Filling Pockets?

There was a time when fighters fought—really fought—to earn their spot at the top. Look at the all-time greats: Muhammad Ali, Marvin Hagler, Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran. They didn’t just step into the ring for a payday. They sought out the toughest opponents, the biggest challenges, the most dangerous fights—because they knew that’s what it took to become legends.

Fast forward to today, and we’ve got prospects with padded 20-0 records, fighting nobodies with losing records just to protect that all-important zero. Where’s the hunger? Where’s the heart? Instead of chasing greatness, too many fighters seem more concerned about keeping their undefeated record and posting gym selfies on Instagram. Are these the future legends of the sport? Or are they just shiny marketing products with more followers than knockouts?

"Fighters today aren't always chasing legacy—they’re chasing likes."

And the promoters? They’re not blameless. They’ll tell you they’re “building stars,” but strip away the PR spin, and one might suggest: they’re building profit margins. They’re taking the scenic route, spoon-feeding prospects opponents who couldn’t scare your nan.

As Eddie Hearn admitted in an IFL TV interview, “Fans want to see the best fight the best. That’s how you build a legacy.” But are we really getting that? Sure, they’ve delivered some cracking shows, but even the best promoters sometimes take the safe road. 

Frank Warren knows the game all too well. “A fighter’s career is about timing. You can’t just throw them in too soon—when the time is right, you make the big fights.” Timing, sure. But sometimes, “timing” feels like an excuse to keep a fighter on easy street while the fans scream for real fights.

Ben Shalom, the new kid on the block, admits, “We have to strike the right balance between building a career and giving fans what they want. There’s no point building a star no one believes in.” And that’s the key—if the fans don’t believe in you, what’s the point?

We’re told these fighters need “time to develop,” that they’re “learning on the job.” But here’s a question for you: did Duran, Leonard, or Ali need 25 fights against nobodies before they faced the real sharks? Of course not. They stepped up, they took risks, and in doing so, they became icons.

The Fighters Aren’t Innocent Either

Let’s not pretend this is all on the promoters. Fighters today have more control over their careers than ever before. They can call the shots, demand the big fights, and carve out their legacy if they have the guts to do it. But how many are actually willing to risk it all? How many are ready to face an opponent that might just ruin their unbeaten record?

Lomachenko, for all the criticism he gets, is one of the few fighters who consistently takes on the best. He’s fought killers at multiple weights and, whether you love him or hate him, you can’t deny he’s out there seeking greatness. Compare that to some of these other so-called “stars” who seem more interested in Instagram than in-ring warfare. How many of them are willing to face their toughest challenges head-on? How many are ready to really put it on the line?

Tyson Fury, speaking to IFL TV, put it bluntly: "If you want to be a legend, you’ve got to fight the best. You don’t get remembered for what you didn’t do." And he’s right.

The Other Side of the Coin: Do Fighters Need Perfect Records to Get the Big Fights?

It’s easy to scream “put up or shut up” from the sidelines, but here’s the flip side—can fighters even get the big fights without an impressive, unblemished record? If you’re sitting at 2-0, do you really deserve a shot at someone with 20 serious wars under their belt? Should a raw, untested prospect be catapulted into the deep end before they’re ready? The reality is that in today’s boxing landscape, records and rankings aren’t just for show—they’re often the ticket to the biggest stages.

The sport is built on structure. Rankings matter. Without them, how do we determine who deserves a world title shot? Sure, padded records are frustrating, but the question is, how else do we assess a fighter’s readiness? Should a young, hungry kid with two pro wins really step in with an experienced, battle-tested champion just for the sake of entertainment? Where’s the line between risk and recklessness?

Even Frank Warren admitted, “You have to build a career strategically. You don’t just throw a fighter in with a world champion for the sake of it. They need to develop first.” And there’s truth in that. Without experience, even the most talented prospects risk getting exposed too early. A demoralizing loss at the wrong time can derail a fighter’s momentum—and possibly their entire career.

There’s also the issue of the sanctioning bodies and rankings systems. These governing bodies don’t always make it easy for new contenders to break through. Title shots are often reserved for fighters who’ve climbed the rankings step by step, meaning those with weaker resumes—no matter how skilled—might struggle to get their foot in the door. This isn’t just about protecting records; it’s about earning your place. And in that sense, some level of matchmaking caution is justified.

Ben Shalom put it succinctly: “The rankings are there for a reason. If you give fighters title shots without proving themselves, you undermine the system.” As frustrating as it can be for fans who just want to see the best fights, the rankings do serve a purpose. They ensure that title fights aren’t just thrown together on a whim but are earned through legitimate competition.

The problem, though, is where do we draw the line? Yes, fighters need experience. Yes, it’s important to build a career. But at what point does “strategic development” turn into unnecessary protection? And how many opportunities are lost because promoters, fighters, and governing bodies are too obsessed with maintaining that perfect record?

Maybe the question isn’t whether fighters should be protected or thrown to the wolves. Maybe it’s about striking a balance. Fighters shouldn’t be gift-wrapped easy fights forever, but they also shouldn’t be expected to fight killers straight out of the gate. The rankings should reward merit, not marketability, and matchmaking should be a mix of development and challenge—not just about preserving an unbeaten record to keep the hype alive.

So here’s the real question: How do we reward fighters willing to take risks, even if it means losing a fight? In a world where rankings matter, are we punishing fighters for daring to step up too soon? Should a loss against a top contender count against them, or should it elevate their standing for showing guts and taking on the toughest challenges?

The solution might lie somewhere in the middle. Fighters need time to grow, but they shouldn’t be shielded from challenges forever. If the rankings were less rigid, more merit-based, and less about politics, perhaps we’d see more fighters willing to take risks. Until then, we’re stuck with the same dilemma: Do we risk building stars too fast and losing them, or do we build them slowly and risk losing the fans?

That’s the balancing act boxing is facing. Play it too safe, and the fans turn away. Play it too dangerous, and you might lose the next big thing before they ever get their moment.

Put Up or Shut Up—But Is It That Simple?

The boxing world doesn’t need more fighters with glossy 25-0 records built on beating part-time Uber drivers. It needs warriors—fighters with guts, heart, and the willingness to risk it all. Fans crave true 50-50 fights where both boxers have something to lose, not the mismatches served up to protect records. Fighters like Marvin Hagler fought their way to greatness through fire, not by padding stats. Boxing needs more Haglers, fewer Instagram models.

But here’s the other side—is throwing fighters to the wolves right out of the gate the right answer? In a world where records and rankings dictate opportunities, should a fighter with two or three wins be fast-tracked to face a seasoned champion? A reckless loss too early could derail a promising career before it even begins.

Promoters argue that building a fighter’s career takes time—a delicate balancing act between development and challenge. As Frank Warren put it, “You can’t just throw fighters in too soon. They need to grow into those big moments.” And he’s not wrong. Fighters need the right experience before facing the sport’s toughest opponents—without it, they might never fulfill their potential.

The rankings systems further complicate things. Fighters can’t just leapfrog the line; there’s a process. It’s a frustrating reality for fans, but without structure, chaos takes over.

So where do we go from here? Are fighters being protected too much, or are they being set up to succeed in the long run? Should promoters take more risks, or is the careful curation of careers necessary to keep the sport afloat? The answer isn’t black and white—it’s about striking the right balance.

It’s Time to Find the Middle Ground

The sport can’t afford to play it too safe—but it also can’t afford to throw away talent by rushing them into fights they aren’t ready for. Real stars are made in tough fights, but those fights need to happen at the right time.

At the same time, fans can’t be let off the hook. Are we guilty of accepting mediocrity? Have we settled for spectacle over skill because we’ve been conditioned to accept the hype? Boxing’s magic lies in moments where the best fight the best—moments that leave no room for doubts. Those moments are becoming rarer, and it’s up to promoters, fighters, and fans to make sure we see more of them.

So here’s the challenge: stop the excuses. Derail the hype trains. Balance development with real competition. Fighters need to step up, promoters need to take risks, and fans need to demand more.

The Questions We All Need to Answer:

• Are we, as fans, enabling mediocrity by buying into overhyped mismatches?

• Are fighters too protected—or are rankings doing their job by ensuring contenders earn their way?

• Who do you think is the most protected fighter in the sport right now—and how long until the bubble bursts?

The truth is, boxing doesn’t need more stars—it needs more legends. Legends aren’t built on padded records, cherry-picked opponents, or flawless Instagram profiles. They’re built through sacrifice, hard fights, and the courage to risk it all.

So the next time you see a fighter parading around like they’re the next big thing, ask yourself: are they really chasing greatness, or just cashing checks? Are they a star... or a legend in the making?

In the end, that’s the real question. And until they step up, we’ll never know the answer.

By Billie Sloane