Yes, That Was My Voice You Heard on Netflix

Two years ago, if you had asked how I would make my Netflix debut, I’d have said to look for my name in the credits of the My Fighting Family mini-series. Somebody would have bought film and TV rights to my memoir, and I’d be sitting on that money, plus watching the royalties roll in after the inevitable bump in book sales.

All of that still might happen, and it would mark my first actual Netflix credit. But my debut? That just happened. It surprised me as much as it will you, and occurred during the final buildup to the main event of Saturday’s massive boxing card, a showdown between titanic heavyweights Tyson Fury and Arslanbek Makhmudov.

The fight itself unfolded as expected. Makhmudov imposed his raw strength in round one. Fury, big and skilled and, above all, cagey, tamed him from there, controlling pace and range, and landing just enough punches to remind everyone it was a fight, winning a lopsided decision.

I should have suspected something, given two realities I already recognized about this matchup.

First… yes, this bout served as a showcase for Tyson Fury, a chance to promote both his Netflix reality series, and his next fight, whether it’s against Oleksandr Usyk, Anthony Joshua, or that old warhorse, TBA.

But organizers needed to choose the B-side to the main event carefully, and Makhmudov fit the assignment. He was a long-shot on the merits and at the betting window, thanks to his one-dimensional attack and leaky defense. But he has legitimate power in both fists, and a string of highlight-reel knockouts on his résumé.

And let’s face it: he looks the part. He’s big and bearded and built like the grizzly bears he wrestles when he goes back home to Dagestan. So we knew that the big-picture run-up to this fight, as well as the fight-night broadcast leading to the main event, would feature video clips and audio blurbs playing up Makhmudov, his menacing physical presence, and the threat he represented to Fury’s plans.

And Reality Number Two?

I’ve been covering Makhmudov’s fights for four years, so I’ve seen that physical strength and punching power up close. Corey Erdman and I were ringside in Montreal, on a snowy Saturday night in 2022, when Makhmudov clobbered Marius Wach. And we were present two years later in Shawinigan, Que., when he battered Miljan Rovcanin over two bruising rounds. Early on, Makhmudov hit Rovcanin with glancing blow to the left shoulder, and the impact sent Rovcanin through the ropes, onto the ring apron, and nearly into our laps at the broadcast table.

Read the first half of that previous sentence again. Glancing blow to the shoulder, and it still launched a 236-pound man damn near into orbit. Makhmudov hits that hard.

Then last June in Quebec City, I watch Makhmudov maul Ricardo Brown in a rumble that longtime rassling announcer Jim Ross would describe as a Slobberknocker. Two huge guys with heavy hands who looked across the ring and saw a big, strong, slowish opponent they could hit. Neither man was wrong. Makhumudov was just right first.

Corey had caught a cold that week, so I slid over to the play-by-play chair. That card culminated in a clash between Christian Mbilli and Maciej Sulecki for the WBC interim title at 168 pounds, and aired live on ESPN+. Those two details signalled that my voice would accompany a few of the video clips that circulate on social media in the aftermath of major fight cards. One night on the mic, but I knew those highlights would live long lives afterward.

As for the heavyweight fight on that card, the internet enjoyed my one-liner about referee Junior Padulo, and his futile efforts to bring order to a classic Sloppy Heavyweight Brawl.

“He might bed looking in the wrong place,” I said. “This is a hockey fight on dry land.”

So I should have noticed those two realities were on a collisions course Saturday afternoon as I planted myself on the couch for the Fury-Makmudov main event. The pre-fight sizzle reel featured the two gigantic heavyweights big-footing their way around downtown London, towering over buildings as they lumbered toward each other like Godzilla going to meet King Kong. I watched them make that long walk, saw the highlights, listened to the interspersed audio clips, and heard a voice I thought I recognized.

“One of the hardest punchers in the division,” it said over a visual of one of an old Makhmudov ring entrance. Sounds like something I would have said about him. It’s also true. Just look at his record.

“That is raw power,” the voice said a few seconds later.

Definitely describes the tool he’s used to win all the fights I’ve called. Force and finesse are mutually exclusive with Makhmudov. He doesn’t come to play chess and win decisions.

“Once he puts those paws on you, it’s trouble!”

That was me, for sure. Said it in the afterbuzz of the Ricardo Brown KO. I didn’t expect the tens of millions of people watching on Netflix to make the connection, but the dozens of you reading this post know it now. The clip still on Netflix, though, archived until you unsubscribe, or until the data centres run out of juice. Uncredited but unmistakably me.

Two realities combined to land me three seconds of airtime during a Netflix special event, and prompted two big questions.

First, how do I package this highlight on my CV? Right now I’m thinking new social media bios that read, “Boxing commentator, as seen on DAZN and heard on Netflix.”

And second: how long until I show up in the credits because some high-powered production company as adapted my memoir for the screen and landed a big-money Netflix deal?

Can’t answer that question.

I just know it won’t sneak up on me.

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