Some inside Zuffa Boxing actually welcomed Shakur Stevenson walking away. When the planned Devin Haney matchup collapsed, the company found itself staring down massive financial obligations with zero marquee headliner to show for it.
Dan Rafael noted that parting ways worked out for both camps, despite the optics sting of Zuffa dropping a prized marquee acquisition right out of the gate.
“There are some people that are sort of relieved that they’re not going to, you know, go down that pit of that money,” Rafael said to Total Boxing.
The broadcast setup explains plenty about why Zuffa executives felt that way. Per Rafael, even if Haney versus Stevenson crossed the finish line, the US broadcast rights belonged to DAZN instead of Zuffa’s domestic partner Paramount+. Zuffa faced bankrolling an enormous purse just to drive its biggest potential viewership straight to a competing network.
Rafael pointed out that securing both men in the ring demanded north of $20 million just for the main event. Spending that kind of cash to cement Shakur as the promotion’s central figure, while asking Paramount+ subscribers to tune in elsewhere, looked like bad business.
When the Haney talks cratered, backup plans looked rough. Zuffa put a hold on Newark’s Prudential Center for January 23, but finding a credible dance rival for a hometown showcase proved tough. Footing an astronomical bill for a soft touch would leave Zuffa paying elite rates without the blockbuster that validated signing Shakur initially.
“I don’t think that everybody involved with Zuffa Boxing and/or their parent company TKO was that upset that they were able to separate because I think they might have had some buyer’s remorse,” Rafael said.
Shakur exiting before ever fighting under the banner definitely hurts Zuffa’s reputation, especially after hyping up the Haney clash. Still, the numbers explain the decision. Retaining Shakur only worked if Zuffa locked down the right opponents alongside favorable platform deals to balance the books. Once Haney slipped away, cutting ties cost far less than trying to patch up an expensive mistake.
Shakur commands elite, eight-figure purses, but his track record does not show independent pay-per-view drawing power or the ability to move tickets outside of a localized Newark gate. When a promoter guarantees that kind of money, the fighter has to generate massive subscription spikes, sell out neutral venues, or command major foreign site fees. Shakur has not done any of that on his own.
His safety-first, low-volume style makes that financial gap impossible to bridge. Fans want drama, sustained action, and knockouts. Shakur is technically brilliant, but his emphasis on distance control and minimal engagement often draws boos from casual crowds and turns off broadcast executives looking for viral, highlight-reel content. Promoting a fighter with that approach is an uphill battle, especially for an outfit tied to the UFC and TKO brand, where audiences expect relentless pressure and decisive finishes.
Paying top-dollar purses for Shakur to out-point mismatched opponents in tactical dull contests would have eroded fan interest and bled capital fast. Zuffa avoided footing the bill for an expensive, low-entertainment asset who brings little commercial leverage to the table.
