The rematch between Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao will be a huge event, one seen by millions of people thanks in no small part to the Netflix platform it has been afforded.
But, aside from a ratings spike for the streaming behemoth, and some nice pension-boosting paydays for the fighters, what’s the point of matching a 49-year-old with a 46-year-old when both were glaringly past their best in the first fight eleven years ago?
A better question might be this: Is there any ‘point’ to any of the boxing that Netflix is currently interested in?
For now, there would appear little desire on their part to regularly showcase what some might call ‘real boxing’. And by describing it as ‘real boxing’, the insinuation we’re making is that ‘real boxing’ is better. It’s clearly not better for Netflix, though. They want fights that are easy to understand, easy to take to market and, above all, easy to sell – much like their policy when streaming WWE.
However, one naturally wonders if Netflix would adopt such a strategy with other sports. Would the streamers, for example, entertain the idea of showcasing a soccer match pitting two teams containing a load of 40-something has-beens over a meaningful Champion’s League tie purely for the sake of nostalgia. It seems more likely they’d want the real thing because the real thing is infinitely more appealing to the audience.
So, what does Floyd Mayweather vs. Manny Pacquiao II being such an alluring proposition for a numbers-driven platform like Netflix say about boxing today?
On the one hand, it’s not all doom and gloom. Boxing has long been an ‘event’ sport in which one or two fights come along per year that are truly capable of moving the dial. If a network like Netflix is keen on showcasing those bouts, then at least there is some recognition of boxing's appeal. Furthermore, the thinking goes, if Netflix will invest in this then surely they'll be willing to do the same for a genuine can't-miss contest.
The problem with this becomes apparent when one looks closer at what Netflix executives appear to deem worthwhile. Jake Paul vs. Mike Tyson, Anthony Joshua vs. Jake Paul and now Floyd Mayweather vs. Manny Pacquiao II, serve no real purpose in the boxing landscape. They’re garish curiosities, the kind that draws attention away from ‘real boxing’.
But look at what is approaching on the ‘real boxing’ calendar: Emanuel Navarrete-Eduardo Nunez; Jai Opetaia-Brandon Glanton; Jazza Dickens-Anthony Cacace; Carlos Adames-Austin Williams; Sebastian Fundora-Keith Thurman; Moses Itauma-Jermaine Franklin; Deontay Wilder-Derek Chisora; Caroline Dubois-Terri Harper… Some are appealing matchups to the likes of you and I but try selling one of those to the Netflix bigwigs. The only matchup they’d look twice at, I’d venture, is Wilder-Chisora and whether that falls under the ‘real boxing’ umbrella is a matter of opinion.
It would of course be remiss to not mention Tyson Fury-Arslanbek Makhmudov, which will be streamed by Netflix on April 11. But given Fury’s relationship with the broadcaster – he invited them into his home to create two series of the reality show, At Home With The Furys – one could argue it’s not really boxing in which they’re investing there.
One might also point to last year’s Netflix showdown between Terence Crawford and Canelo Alvarez as evidence against the negativity. After all, that was without question ‘real boxing’. It was a contest between two of the finest pound-for-pound fighters, one with meaning and significance. But it had so many storylines jostling for attention – the biggest being Crawford jumping up two weight divisions, David and Goliath style – that it had the required hook. Though indeed a real fight, it was also something of a novelty. And that notion of it being a one-off is only underlined by the facts that neither man has fought since and the ‘undisputed’ title everyone goes gaga about has subsequently been split into four unrecognizable pieces.
The progressive compartmentalization of the sport is unquestionably a factor in the decline of its appeal. For too long, certain fights that made all the sense in the world would struggle to be made. And when you’re not making the fights that everyone wants to see then the interest will naturally wane. The boom in ‘world title’ belts might have helped certain boxers get certain opportunities but the wider public – that decades ago lapped up the raw simplicity of boxing – has long stopped caring why there are multiple 'world champions' in every weight class. In short, the sport that could once identify and then showcase the best fighters on the planet lost its meaning.
It’s not just the many belts, of course. There is the wider and more important aspect of visibility to consider. The reason why a fight like Floyd Mayweather vs. Manny Pacquiao II, who were both ever-present on HBO and Showtime, will command a significantly bigger audience than both of the excellent Artur Beterbiev vs. Dmitry Bivol fights combined is purely down to familiarity. Every person on the street knows who Mayweather is and who Pacquiao is. Probably one in 50 would be able to tell you what Bivol or Beterbiev do for a living.
To be clear, the issue is not about talent. The sport is not, and never has been, short of talent. But if we had been doing it right all these years, then a fight between Beterbiev and Bivol sells itself. If we had been doing it right all these years, a fight between two men who peaked in the decade before last would not be allowed to take center stage. But in 2026, too many of today's heroes are strangers to the public at large. Why? Because boxing has gotten too reliant on paywalls or it's existed in alternative universes on obscure platforms that only hardcore fans had the patience to pursue. The consequences of shutting the door in the face of Joe Bloggs and his family shouldn’t need any further explanation.
You want everyone to watch? Then you give them what they want and you make it easy-peasy to tune in.
Which is exactly what Netflix believe they're doing with Mayweather-Pacaquiao II. Yet those who claim showcasing such events to the masses will in turn increase the fanbase of ‘real boxing’ should consider this: The first fight, in 2015, drew a record pay-per-view audience that is yet to be beaten. Logically, that the record still stands means it did not create returning fans, it did the opposite. It was wildly disappointing. It came at least five years too late. It felt like the end of an era. The sport, it can be argued, has never really recovered from the sense of anti-climax it generated.
Regardless, it’s estimated that at least fifty-million people will watch the sequel. Does it matter to Netflix if they’re entertained? Not nearly as much as it should to boxing's future. How many of the millions who watched Paul vs. Tyson in 2024 came away eager for more? What's certain is that tens of millions fewer returned to watch Joshua pound Paul the following year. After all, there's only so many pantomimes one can watch before the appeal wears thin. And therein lies the real concern: When the gazillions of people who watch Netflix eventually get bored of boxing, what hope does ‘real boxing’ have of achieving sustainable growth?
