This is a twelve-round boxing match, with three minutes allocated per round. There is a one-minute break at the end of each round. A contest of this magnitude differs significantly from UFC bouts. It's challenging to determine which sport is more intense. Although UFC fights typically consist of five rounds of five minutes each, the variety of fighting styles employed in UFC can be far more physically demanding than boxing. However, given that boxing consists of many rounds and lasts considerably longer, the strenuousness of both sports has a way of balancing itself out.
For Ye Chen, the chief concern isn't whether he possesses enough stamina. Instead, he faces the challenge of managing his energy levels in a twelve-round match—especially since he has never boxed professionally before. The real question is if he can preserve his energy throughout the fight or if he can manage to achieve a knockout against Ava in the early going. That scenario isn't outside the realm of possibility. Ye Chen has contemplated this, yet he suspects that Ava's camp is gearing up for a quick finish as well.
Many observers are underestimating the bout, believing that defeating Ava will be a simple task for Ye Chen. This sentiment is echoed by numerous Ava supporters and boxing aficionados online, confidently proclaiming that if Ava cannot score a knockout within three rounds, then he has failed in his mission. Their overconfidence speaks volumes. Do you think Ava is immune to the weight of these expectations? Absolutely not. It's likely that he's also plotting for an early knockout against Ye Chen with a barrage of rapid-fire punches. Therefore, Ye Chen's primary strategy revolves around conserving his energy, avoiding a hasty confrontation, and instead attempting to outlast Ava by exhausting the latter's explosive energy in the first three to five rounds of the fight.
Soon, the moment of truth draws near, and Ye Chen has meticulously prepared himself for his entrance. Notably, boxing introductions tend to be quite theatrical. For instance, there was a boxer who made his way into the arena seated on a throne, underscoring the flair and spectacle that often accompany these events. This occasion marks a highly anticipated cross-discipline clash—the showdown of the century—between the current top figure in boxing and the leading contender in MMA.
At this moment, all eyes fixate on Madison Square Garden, with a live audience present and fight enthusiasts tuning in from all corners of the globe. The opening acknowledgments extend gratitude to sponsors like Ford Motor and Nike Sports, though the total number of sponsors remains unknown. In the manner of a seasoned announcer, the host enthusiastically mentions various names for nearly five straight minutes, implying that the event has attracted copious advertising dollars.
In the meantime, Ye Chen grows impatient backstage. However, he understands that these brands have provided financial support to make this event happen. His own boxing shorts, adorned with a multitude of advertising logos, serve as a visual testament to this. This model of extensive advertising on shorts was once typical in the UFC. Back in those days, payout rates for fighters were relatively low, but at least advertisers showed an interest in showcasing their products, thereby supplementing fighters' incomes. While this arrangement is undoubtedly advantageous for the athletes, it is still inherently exploitative.
The UFC later transitioned to a model in which all fighters donned identical attire, thus centralizing the branding and remittance process. Dana White, with a shrewd business acumen, orchestrated this change, ultimately increasing UFC's overall revenue dramatically. However, from a personal perspective, it could be considered a rather greedy maneuver on Dana's part. This restructuring particularly impacted lower-tier fighters who previously benefited from their own sponsorship opportunities. In essence, if they had fought, they could have potentially earned themselves a payout of around five thousand dollars. Ye Chen remembers earning that much early in his career.
The moment arrives for the fighter who is about to step into the spotlight—a true superstar in the mixed martial arts world. He began competing in professional MMA matches at the age of 26, has risen through the ranks to become the top fighter in the MMAP4P (Mixed Martial Arts Pound-for-Pound) standings, and boasts titles in both lightweight and welterweight divisions. This fight represents his inaugural venture into boxing, and the crowd buzzes with anticipation.
As the announcer calls out his name, the energy in the venue swells. "He is the Terminator of Great Xia, Ye Chen!" The fervor in the arena is palpable. The crowd erupts in cheers, standing en masse, rushing toward the aisle, chanting Ye Chen's name with infectious enthusiasm.
As the stage lights dim, the atmosphere heightens. Highlight reels of Ye Chen's career surge onto the giant screen, displaying his resolute spirit and skill. Fireworks erupt above Madison Square Garden, illuminating the venue in a spectacle that might rival an Olympic opening ceremony. With every burst of light, the audience grows more invigorated, capturing the vibrant scene on their cell phones and cameras.
At last, the fireworks coalesce into the letters UFC in the night sky, signalling the grand reveal. At just that moment, Ye Chen steps into view. The crowd buzzes with excitement.
"Boom!" The sound resonates, yet he and his team remain unfazed amidst the commotion. However, Catwoman's father, shadowing Ye Chen, feels a jolt of surprise at the dazzling display. He observes the darkness enveloping the venue, save for the lit aisle comprised of simulated fireworks, which merely emit vibrant light rather than actual pyrotechnics.
"This is my first time feeling this overwhelming attention from a crowd…" Ye Chen thinks. Being a fan of fighting and sharing the moment with other avid supporters as they enter the arena together is a remarkable experience, one that his future father-in-law will surely boast about for years to come.
Yet, a tinge of exaggeration lingers in the air. If he craved public recognition, he could have joined Anne on a red carpet or attended a formal event. His true desire is to experience the palpable energy of the fight crowd. In these moments, boxing fans line the aisles, reaching out in eagerness to bump fists with Ye Chen. Excited cries fill the space, with fans so fervently cheering that their faces redden, necks bulging, veins pulsing visibly. Ye Chen can't help but feel concerned that someone may collapse from sheer exhilaration, finally grasping why such fervent fans sometimes faint at concerts. In certain cultures, outward expressions of excitement can be exuberant indeed.
As time passes, it's almost Ye Chen's turn to enter the ring. Unlike the octagon of his MMA past, this boxing scene marks a new chapter. His future father-in-law and the team hold the ropes apart for him, and with a graceful hop, Ye Chen steps into the ring, hand raised in acknowledgment to the electrified audience, as all the attention converges on him—center stage.
And so, the story continues to unfold.