There was a lingering feeling in the pit of my stomach during Saturday's Canelo Alvarez-Liam Smith bout that was hard to ignore and was probably best summed up in this tweet.
Boxing fans should demand more from their favorite sport. This new norm is heartbreaking.
- Brian Campbell (@BCampbellESPN) September 18, 2016
Cynical fans on social media were quick to remind that this "new norm" wasn't that far removed from what we have experienced as a whole over the past decade. While in most cases that's true, with boxing's many shortcomings having long become accepted by its worn down and underserved fan base.
But if we're being honest when looking at 2016 as a whole, it's difficult to overlook that this is just about as bad as it gets. Already successful at running off casual fans thanks to its broken system, boxing is now threatening to do the same to its backbone of hard-core fans -- the same ones who defend (and most importantly fund) the sport's slow decay.
Here was Alvarez, the Mexican superstar and de facto face of the sport, headlining a pay-per-view no one asked for against a little known and overmatched opponent. The only thing "at stake" outside of Alvarez and promoter Oscar De La Hoya lining their own pockets was the trinket of a 154-pound title Smith had captured despite not having a signature victory of any kind.
The fight also took place in a division in which Alvarez -- the sport's lineal middleweight champion, no less -- has no interest in competing in. Even the undercard played down to its dismally low level of expectations.
Afterward, both Alvarez and De La Hoya spun narratives of half-truths while attempting to put off for another year the superfight that should have already taken place -- Alvarez's showdown with unified middleweight titlist Gennady Golovkin -- to a time when "Triple G" will conveniently be closer to age 36 and fans will be worn out from the journey getting there.
While Alvarez and De La Hoya aren't exclusively to blame for boxing's deeper dive into irrelevance in 2016, their unrepentant heel turn is discouraging when you consider their history for giving fans what they want and deserve.
But during a calendar year in which nearly all parties involved have put their own immediate financial needs in front of the long-term health of the sport, it's becoming increasingly difficult for fans to separate the heroes from the villains.
This isn't the "every other year" phenomenon that has recently plagued the sport, with both 2012 (drug suspensions, promotional cold war) and 2014 (well ... everything) proving awful, only for the sport to rebound spectacularly in 2013 (great fights, healthy competition between HBO and Showtime) and 2015 (launch of PBC, Floyd Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao buzz).
This is much worse, with years of disturbing trends finally escalating to the level of an epidemic. This is an entire sport taking the path of least resistance in hopes of creating a spark for that one great fight on the horizon, only to then milk it for all its worth with bait-and-switch tactics in the buildup.
Sound familiar? It's Mayweather-Pacquiao all over again, which is something De La Hoya is clearly looking to replicate with Golovkin-Alvarez. But the flippant way in which he's testing the patience of his own customers during a time when boxing no longer has the collateral to do so is short-sighted, especially after so many casual fans -- the ones needed to sell large numbers of PPVs -- vowed to never be fooled again after the $100 dud last May.
Instead, 2016's biggest fights have been a series of glorified mismatches and gratuitous rematches, making boxing feel more like a touring rock concert than an actual competition, with top superstars being paid handsomely to play their hits in fights designed to make them look good. Watching Alvarez croon his adoring crowd of 50,000-plus fans at the cavernous AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas, very much felt the same way, which was probably by design.
Alvarez has become just another imitator of the dangerous precedent set by Mayweather, who repeatedly leveraged his sublime talent and marketability into a series of low-risk marquee fights for large rewards. It's a business model designed by Mayweather's adviser and PBC creator Al Haymon, who let's not forget came to boxing fresh off his success as a giant in which avenue? Yes, the concert promotion business.
It's the same copycat model being attempted by PBC fighters like Adonis Stevenson, Danny Garcia and Adrien Broner, with each one gaining an inflated sense of financial worth after being overpaid for showcase fights, providing them with literally millions of reasons to outright avoid the dangerous ones.
It's one thing for only one of boxing's top stars to consistently match himself disproportionate to his talent level, as fans had endured with Mayweather in recent years. But when it quickly becomes nearly every big name in the sport, making fights that matter becomes impossible.
Gone is the fantasy that if casual fans, who only came around twice per year to complain how boring and expensive a Mayweather pay-per-view fight was, would just watch the sport on the other 50 weekends each year, they would be hooked. Not in 2016.
Not with HBO, long the gold standard for boxing on premium pay cable, handcuffed with budget issues, forcing one non-deserving fight after another to the PPV level. And not with PBC largely refusing to match its best against each other in cards not funded by Showtime/CBS, while constantly flooding the market on other networks with fights not worthy of being televised.
Even the one fight that truly matters above all this year -- the Nov. 19 showdown for pound-for-pound supremacy between unified light heavyweight titlist Sergey Kovalev and Andre Ward -- has been saddled with an unnecessary year-long buildup in which both fighters looked underwhelming in tune-up bouts, robbing from the potential crossover buzz.
The sport has done well to fight off the constant "boxing is dead" hysteria in recent years by providing its hardened regulars with just enough reminders as to why they fell in love in the first place, despite constant obstacles like big-name promoters proving unwilling to work with each other.
The reason is because boxing's almost arrogant resiliency takes root within a singular reality that remains true: When it's operating at its best, no other sport can provide an equal high or summon as deep an emotional reaction as boxing. In fact, it's not even close.
In that regard, boxing is an addiction for most true fans that is very hard to quit. Promoters know this; in fact, they feast on this. But it's an abusive relationship at best, especially in 2016. And when there's little payoff to be found for the fans whose hard-earned pay keep the sport moving, soon enough there's little reason to tune in.
It's heartbreaking to know that your favorite sport must complete its decades-long fall before it can ever truly be fixed.
It's very likely that 2016 won't be that year, despite the many problems that boxing remains embroiled in. But it would be nice if those in power woke up to the reality of the sport's sinking-ship existence and spent less time preparing their own lifeboat.
It would be just as nice for fans to finally use their voice in the only true manner that affects change -- with their wallet -- and stop accepting the status quo.
Alvarez-Smith wasn't the only thing that's wrong with boxing in 2016, but it's surely a microcosm of the "path of least resistance" trend that is further distancing this once great sport from the potential that still exists, buried deep within the ruins of its own remains.