Ryan Garcia and Conor Benn are more alike than they’ll ever admit

Chances are you will hear all the usual words said by all the usual people ahead of Saturday’s WBC welterweight title fight between Ryan Garcia and Conor Benn. Whether they are said by the fighters, or the people around them, you will doubtless hear words like “champion” and “challenger” and “underdog” and “legacy.”  You will hear “Las Vegas,” the location of the fight, as well as “Zuffa,” the name of the promotional entity behind it. You will hear “Turki,” a nod to the Saudi financier Turki Alalshikh, followed swiftly by “thank you,” as is now customary. 

There will then be talk of “timing” and “preparation” and how that preparation, despite its length and its grueling nature, has never been better. There will be mention of “welterweight,” the division in which Garcia and Benn will fight, and “middleweight,” the division in which Benn was last seen competing. You will, in reference to Benn’s weight cut, hear words like “tough” and “brutal” and “sacrifice.” There will also be some Spanish words, most of them said by Benn, the Brit, plus a number of insults, each considered harmless because they are not sticks nor stones. In this instance, you will hear the following: “big child,” “spoiled brat,” “privileged,” “influencer” and “idiot.” 

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To summarize, there is a lot to say about Saturday’s fight and no shortage of words available to either sell it or express one’s thoughts on it. The only words off-limits, it would seem, are ironically the two words partly responsible for making Garcia vs. Benn such a compelling, lucrative and talked-about event. 

One of those words is “clomiphene.” The other is “ostarine.”

Those, sadly, were the names of the two performance-enhancing drugs for which Benn (clomiphene) and Garcia (ostarine) tested positive, in 2022 and 2024 respectively, and are words both men claimed were unfamiliar to them until they were at risk of being defined by them. Only then, when accused of using and relying on these drugs, did Garcia and Benn seek to discover what the words actually meant. 

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For the rest of us, the same was true. Some might have known the word ostarine due to previous cases (there have in boxing been a few, unfortunately), whereas clomiphene, or clomifene, was a performance-enhancing drug new to most who cover the sport. It’s perhaps for that reason many were so quick to latch onto the drug’s tenuous connection with eggs and decide that an overconsumption of eggs might have been the cause of Benn’s downfall. It’s perhaps for that reason Chris Eubank Jr., Benn’s big rival, brought an egg to a press conference and smashed it across Benn’s cheek ahead of their first and long-delayed fight in 2025.  

Regardless, those two words — ostarine and clomiphene — stuck to Garcia and Benn and for a period threatened to undo all their good work. As true as it was that smells fade with time, little could be done about the stain left behind, some said. Now, no matter what either man went on to achieve, the careers of both would contain an asterisk, a little smudge on the page, a “Yeah, but …” 

Of the two, this shift in how they were perceived appeared to bother Benn more than it did Garcia. With Benn, an emotional, heart-on-sleeve type, the ramifications of that positive test — two of them, in fact — were more strongly felt by virtue of his career only just starting to purr and a massive fight against Eubank falling by the wayside as a result. This not only cost Benn an enormous payday that year, but, such was the size of Benn-Eubank, the whole of Great Britain had their eyes and ears open at the time of it being canceled. That meant on the Wednesday of fight week, when the nation finally heard the news, “clomiphene” was a word spoken and heard in pubs, offices and gyms. In next to no time theories were being explored; egg puns hatched. 

Garcia, meanwhile, was already so deep inside whatever character he was playing in 2024 that it was hard to tell whether news of his positive tests (two of them; one recorded the day before his April 20 fight with Devin Haney, the other recorded the day of that fight) affected him in the slightest. At the time it just seemed par for the course with Garcia; his latest boo-boo, his latest prank. We had, as a sport, enabled and almost infantilized the unruly Californian to such an extent that year that anything he did in 2024 was: A) unlikely to come as a surprise, and, B) soon to be forgiven. 

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In fact, the only inconvenience from Garcia’s perspective was the timing of those positive tests. After all, when the news broke many of us were still in the process of apologizing to Garcia for doubting him ahead of his grudge match against Haney, which he won so impressively over 12 rounds. To somehow make amends, we each wanted to retract all the things we had said pre-fight about his mental wellbeing and apologize for showing concern. We even admired his Machiavellian scheming when, at the end of the fight, he said in the ring: “You really thought I was crazy? You lost your own mind.”

For a time, it felt like we had, too. Having seen Garcia dupe and eventually dominate Haney, we fully believed he had performed the ultimate ruse, evoking Randle McMurphy in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” But then Nurse Ratched — or VADA (Voluntary Anti-Doping Agency) in this case — saw right through it, ended Garcia’s fun, and jolted us all back to reality with some shock therapy. Suddenly now, not only was Garcia’s win over Haney tainted, but everything we either thought or said before the fight was again deemed justifiable. If anything, we now had reason to regurgitate it, that humble pie, and rejoice when, in late June, Garcia-Haney was amended to a “no-contest,” with Garcia fined $1.1 million and suspended for a year. 

As for Benn, he professed his innocence throughout the 525 days he was absent from the ring. It was during this period, which he called “the darkest time,” Benn tried to clear his name and protect what remained of his damaged reputation. For no longer was he simply the son of Nigel Benn, Britain’s popular former world middleweight and super middleweight champion. Instead, Conor Benn now had other associations: clomiphene, eggs, controversy. It was a narrative shift, a total redefinition, and it changed him. It changed how he carried himself and it changed how others viewed him. It also matured him, though only superficially; only in the way a divorce, death of a parent or an unexpected child tends to mature a man.

Essentially, Benn had lost it — control, that is. He had no control of his own narrative or future anymore and no way of going back to being known as just a fighter’s son. Even if he had aspired to one day step out from his father’s shadow, never would he have wanted to do it like this. Never would he have wanted this to be the identity he had created for himself, standing on his own two feet. 

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Still, as a fighter, all Benn could do was the only thing he knew: fight. This meant a couple of routine bouts against Rodolfo Orozco and Peter Dobson, just to prove to people that he was now in the clear, followed by a timely reminder to us all of how forgiving boxing can be when there is money to be made. 

Simply put, it took only two fights for Benn to find himself back in position to get rich with Chris Eubank Jr., and suddenly, three years on from their first attempt, the pair stood to get even richer. Forget their fathers and the family lineages, the sons now had a new fight-selling angle. A more universal one. One more likely to create chaos at press conferences and intrigue among the general public.

That’s presumably why at every press conference we heard, alongside the usual words, provocative words like “cheat” and “scumbag” and “d***head” and “a**hole.” It’s why, in less than three years, a positive drug test went from something punishable to something marketable; from a black mark to a plot point, promotional tool and punchline. 

Even losing the fight, which Benn ultimately did, was no punishment. How could it be when defeat led only to a rematch more profitable than the first fight. Better yet, that rematch, held seven months later, gave Benn the opportunity to avenge his loss to Eubank, and in doing so, experience some form of redemption. That was certainly how it felt watching Benn lean over the top rope and stare down the crowd after outworking Eubank during their second fight last November. It wasn’t an apology Benn wanted at that moment, I don’t think. He just wanted respect, that’s all. Respect for winning. Respect for proving people wrong. Respect, most of all, for carrying on when lesser men would have spiraled or given up. 

Garcia, on the other hand, didn’t want anything from anybody. He returned from his 12-month suspension in a vacant WBA “regular” welterweight title fight — your guess is as good as mine — and managed to lose a 12-round decision against Rolando “Rolly” Romero in Times Square, New York. Dull and disappointing, were it not for his age (now 28) and his notoriety, plenty would have started fishing for the right words for the Ryan Garcia ring epitaph there and then. However, as tempting as that may have been, most of us know better than to believe a boxer gets what they deserve in this sport. Most of us know that winning isn’t the be-all and end-all in the land of opportunity. 

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Sure enough, less than nine months after getting outboxed by Romero, Garcia was awarded another title shot, this time against Mario Barrios, the WBC welterweight champion. This time Garcia showed up, too, winning a unanimous decision after 12 rounds and reminding us, in spurts, of the qualities he possesses when focused on just being a boxer. Now, at 28, the only words important to Garcia and said in his company are the following: “WBC champion,” “Las Vegas” and “Conor Benn.” 

“Is he [Benn] deserving of this shot having not fought in the [welterweight] division in four years? That’s not for me to say,” Garcia (25-2, 20 KOs) told reporters last week. “He’s ranked No. 1 [with the WBC], I guess, so you’ve just got to handle business. It’s no secret that his dad’s name has given him a lot of privileges, but I’m not going to put a man down for his dad putting in that hard work for him and putting him in that position. 

“I can’t really hate on it too much, but he has not had it hard at all. I think he fought in the amateurs in Australia — who the f***’s fighting there? He didn’t really fight that many professional fights, if I’m not mistaken. He’s never fought a young fighter. All of them have been older: Chris van Heerden, Chris Algieri, Chris Eubank. Chris this, Chris that, all over 30 [years old]. Bro’s got a type.”

This was not the first time Garcia had questioned Benn’s merits as a title challenger, of course. He had in fact questioned them at a press conference back in July, whereupon Benn immediately returned fire, suggesting Garcia’s route to Saturday’s title fight has been no trickier than his own. 

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“He says this has been rushed, but it has been 10 years in the making,” Benn (25-1, 14 KOs) said. “He [Garcia] got his arse handed to him by Rolly [in May 2005] and then magically got a world title shot [in February 2026]. I’m coming off the back of a ‘Fight of the Year’ up at middleweight [against Eubank Jr.], avenging my loss … “

It was then that Garcia, wearing a white vest and sunglasses, interrupted Benn to say: “He almost got beat up by Regis Prograis [in Benn’s most recent fight in April]! His face was squished by Regis Prograis! If I let this man beat me, that will be crazy. Five rounds is all it’s going to take.”

For all their tough talk, implicit in both their responses that day was an acceptance that a degree of favoritism has occurred and that certain big-name privileges have been granted to them both. If in need of further proof of that, just look at how keen the sanctioning bodies and the sport’s promoters were to have Garcia and Benn involved in world-title action once cleared to fight and in spite of their transgressions. Rather than wash their hands of them, or make them work for it, quite the opposite was true. Their absences, as stars and as money-makers, was felt by the sport. Their returns were therefore welcomed. 

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Which is why, when Benn calls Garcia a “spoiled brat” or, more specifically, an “influencer,” one wonders if there isn’t an element of projection at play. Because the truth is, even though Benn — a man proudly “locked in” — has not invested as heavily in his online clout as Garcia, he has still become a powerful online commodity since gaining notoriety in 2022: a headline, a clip, a meme, a target. Indeed, had the 29-year-old not become so online-infamous, and so “influential” in today’s sporting world, it’s difficult to see how a fight like Saturday’s would be happening, at least now, with the form of both fighters — in and out of the ring — so patchy and Benn, as a welterweight, relatively unproven. 

Then again, maybe that’s the point: maybe, like influencers, controversial fighters have a way of overwhelming us with their presence until there is genuine commercial value in having them around, granting them favors, turning a blind eye. They also know how to sell — themselves, their products, a narrative — and snatch an opportunity when it comes. This weekend Ryan Garcia and Conor Benn will unite to make hay; next year Jarrell Miller might fight for the heavyweight championship of the world.

“I think it was my resilience and my passion for all elements of the sport, from entertaining and creating content to being a great fighter,” Garcia said last week, when asked what makes him different from the rivals he may have outlasted. “You’ve got to be able to do it all in this day. Times change, so you have to adjust and evolve and make sure you get good at everything you do. If you don’t, you’re going to be falling behind the wheel. That’s just the truth.

“Like anything in life, you’ve got to develop and you have to grow and your character needs to build. I became a professional at 17 and a lot of attention was on me right away, so it was more of a process of just learning the ins and outs and understanding what to do and what not to do; what distractions are messing with me. A lot of little things played their part but it all led me to this moment that I’m at now, where I understand more what I have to do, where I have to be. It’s really enlightened me to be a way better athlete right now.”

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Benn, who turned professional at 19, speaks with the gratitude, or relief, of someone who once envisaged his career going down a very different path. “Sometimes I sit there and take it all in and think it’s a blessing to be in the position that I am in,” he told Sky Sports. “You know, to go from stadium shows — sellouts — to then headlining in Vegas for the WBC title. I sit down and I go, ‘Yeah, life’s good.’ This is everything I dreamed of and everything I worked hard for.”

Stripped of all context, the words of Benn and Garcia could be attributed to any young professional fighters on the cusp of a title fight; the focus more on the future than the past. Perhaps, in that respect, by raking up the past without their permission you do both them and their impending fight a disservice. Perhaps you should instead acknowledge the fact they have been cleared to fight and try to enjoy what is, despite the lingering smell, a genuinely exciting clash between two big personalities. 

Or perhaps you are right to highlight the otherwise ignored. Perhaps you are right to believe that such information is as relevant to a fight as how many titles either fighter has won and how many weight divisions they have previously conquered. Perhaps you still dream of a time when Michael Buffer, or anyone in that same role, is allowed to deliver this information and say those elusive words during the pre-fight introductions. You know, for a bit of context. To help us understand how we all got here. 

That shouldn’t detract from the fun or the occasion, by the way. It’s just kind of important is all. Important to know and important not to either forget or forgo in favor of making money and having a good old time. Besides, this is a fight; people will always watch. Nowhere, in fact, is it easier to separate the art from the artist than in a boxing ring. There it is encouraged. There it is necessary, crucial to one’s enjoyment.