Canelo Alvarez, a kingdom under attack and the price of boxing’s largest payday

True or not, we can be sure of this much: Canelo, now 36 years of age, has not boxed since dropping to Terence Crawford 13 months in the past and would, in an very best world, box again after this weekend as soon as February. The motive for that is fairly easy. “I want to fight quick, like in February, because I have two fights left in Riyadh,” he instructed The Ring. “So, I want to fight this one in Riyadh [against Mbilli], and then in February, the next one.”

In other phrases, Canelo desires to get in and get out — as fast as he can. This pertains to Saturday evening, when he challenges once more for the WBC tremendous middleweight belt, and perhaps more usually, too. He is, after all, now on borrowed time. His conqueror, Terence Crawford, announced his own retirement at the finish of last 12 months and Alvarez, who turned skilled at the age of 15, will be conscious he has only so many massive fights left. For now, he might be content material to take the huge sums of money on offer in Saudi Arabia. But, beyond that, one would presume he has other plans. The sort of plans that carry him nearer to home. The sort of plans that make him really feel more snug and further improve his legacy. 

Until then, he will naturally go where the money is, protected in the information that everyone will comply with. They will comply with Canelo, irrespective of risk, because the sport in the end revolves around him. More than that, the sport still wants him. 

One man who has adopted Canelo to Riyadh this week is Robert Diaz, the former longtime matchmaker for Golden Boy Promotions who has adopted the Mexican great for some time. His spouse, Karla, has labored for Alvarez for 15 years and therefore it was never a query that the couple would finish up in Riyadh this weekend. Both knew it would not be as simple getting there as it was when Alvarez fought William Scull in 2025, of course, but that wasn’t to say it could not be achieved. 

“It was alright,” Diaz instructed me last Friday. “I flew from LA to Rome, which was fine, and then Rome to Qassim Airport [in Buraidah, Saudi Arabia], but we couldn’t take off because of luggage. There was a little delay, but it wasn’t to do with the attacks or anything. 

“Then, once we got in the air and landed, we had to go to Riyadh on the street for 4 hours. But we got here ultimately and everything seems fantastic — so far.”

Though keen to stress “so far,” Diaz was just as keen to affirm his confidence in a situation like this one. “There’s been no indication that it [the event] would get cancelled,” he said. “You would think that would be a risk, but when everything appeared to be transferring ahead, we were like, ‘Are you sure?’ And yeah, they were. They were shopping for journey and arranging everything, so at that level it was, ‘OK.’

“It’s funny because last year, after Canelo fought here [against Scull], I ended up going to Pakistan to do a WBA (World Boxing Association) event and they were at war with India. The airspace kept closing while I was there and there was a chance we weren’t going to get out in time. In the end, though, we were fine. So, with this one, there was a sense of, ‘Been there, done that. Let’s go.'”

The factor is, they could have all been in Las Vegas, the combat capital of the world, this weekend. That is where combat followers usually collect in giant numbers and where Canelo Alvarez is always welcome. It is there that, since the retirement of Floyd Mayweather, Canelo has become a headline attraction, typically showing at the T-Mobile Arena or MGM Grand on Cinco de Mayo and Mexican Independence Day. 

In truth, the last time I saw Canelo in Las Vegas, he was there to full his trilogy with Gennadiy Golovkin in 2022. It was September, the weekend of Mexican Independence, and for the Grand Arrivals at the MGM Grand the fighter was welcomed by the trumpets and violins of a mariachi band, as properly as scores of screaming women carrying bandanas. Then on Friday evening, 24 hours before the combat, there was sudden gridlock along The Strip as numerous heavy-duty autos sporting Mexican flags and relentlessly beeping horns crawled into city, home windows down, heads out. 

At one level, just to gauge the stage of his reputation, I determined to go to the Grand and Co. store in the MGM Grand foyer. That tends to be where combat merchandise is offered forward of a massive occasion and, for Canelo-Golovkin III, they were promoting merch for both boxers, with one clearly outselling the other. “Canelo sells more by quite a distance and always outsells his opponents whenever he fights here,” revealed Jodi, who ran the store and had been working there “too long to remember and long enough to remember them all [the great boxers].” She then shot me a look of horror when I had the nerve to suggest Canelo’s promoting energy might be comparable to Floyd Mayweather’s. “Oh, come on,” Jodi said. “Mayweather was much more popular. Him against [Manny] Pacquiao [in 2015]?” She rolled her eyes while making a whooshing sound with her mouth. “That was like nothing else. But, of course, they’re both retired now and we miss them. Canelo is the next best thing.”

While Mayweather stays the undisputed king of Las Vegas, Canelo did handle to do something in America Mayweather never did: combat frequently in stadiums. This he did against Terence Crawford in his last combat (Vegas’ new Allegiant Stadium), as properly as in fights against Liam Smith and Billy Joe Saunders (AT&T Stadium in Texas), and Avni Yildirim (Hard Rock Stadium in Miami).

“Canelo was a stadium fighter,” said Doug Fischer, the Editor-in-Chief at The Ring magazine. “They were huge fights and it didn’t matter who the f*** he was fighting. You think the people in Texas knew who Liam Smith was? Liam put up a hell of a fight that night, it was entertaining, but they didn’t know who the f*** he was. 

“Stadium fights are uncommon in America. What I seen that evening [in Texas] was that one, Mexico positively confirmed up, and two, there were complete households there. I was struck by the quantity of younger females and older ladies: Moms, aunties. Somebody would be holding a child or pushing a stroller. They all had the Canelo stuff on. They had the merch, the headbands. It reminded me of [Julio Cesar] Chavez, back when he was the man, the idol. I’m considering, ‘This must have been what it was like to be at a Julio Cesar Chavez combat back in the early nineties.’ I do not think he [Alvarez] reached the heights of Chavez, but he got close — as close as anyone has since. I can’t think of a Mexican fighter or American fighter who can attain those heights now. I just do not see it.”

The key to seeing anything, I suppose, is visibility. In the case of Canelo, that means showcasing him on stages that are large, accessible, and safe. His next fight with Mbilli, for instance, could have quite easily found a home in a stadium, whether in the U.S. or elsewhere. It is arguably a better fight than some of those stadium fights previously mentioned and Mbilli is no less famous than some of those Canelo opponents in the eyes of the public. Besides, Canelo is someone who is by now accustomed to having the biggest stage and audience possible. Anything less would seem to undermine what got him here. 

“Canelo had a couple of issues going for him when he began more than 20 years in the past,” said Fischer. “One, he was in a position to keep lively by trendy requirements. Also, being Mexican, he turned professional when he was 15 and he caught the eye of certain community executives. Because he had white pores and skin and purple hair, there was a community, Televisa, that began showcasing Canelo and the scores were actually good. They appreciated him. He was a humble child. He seemed like a boy but he was in there with males and he was combating tooth and nail and exhibiting a lot of coronary heart. He had an entertaining type and most of the time he would get a knockout, too, which helps. 

“I think probably by the time he was 16 years old he was moved up to main-event status because he was boosting their ratings. For a couple of years, from 16 to 18, he was headlining shows on network television the way boxing stars used to in America. ‘Sugar’ Ray Leonard out of the Olympics was doing the same thing. He would be fighting at seven o’clock or eight o’clock on ABC to a huge market share. 

“That’s how all these guys turned family names. Someone like Ray ‘Boom Boom’ Mancini was a man I grew up watching on common TV on a Saturday afternoon, and Canelo got that same remedy in Mexico as a teenager. Before he had even set foot on American soil as an 18-year-old, he was a family title in Mexico. Because of that, and because of the giant Mexican contingent in Southern California, if there’s a buzz about an athlete in Mexico it’s going to translate here. So, there was already curiosity about him. He already had a ready-made fan base. For his first combat in the U.S., at a on line casino out here [Morongo Casino Resort & Spa in Cabazon, California], there were followers that had made banners and stuff. Even before ‘Canelo’ had caught on as a nickname, these banners would say: ‘Saul Alvarez.’ There was already a group — a little cheering part — ready for him.”