An Open Letter to Those(In General) Who Say I’m Wasting My Time

To everyone who tells me I’m wasting my time expecting change from SCI,

I need you to understand something clearly.

This was never just about SCI.

Yes, they’re part of the conversation. Yes, people are frustrated. Yes, expectations weren’t met. I see all of that. I feel it too. But reducing everything I do to “waiting on one company” misses the entire point.

This is about standards.
This is about respect for the sport.
This is about the future of boxing games.

Boxing is one of the most technical, strategic, emotional, and culturally rich sports in the world. It deserves games that reflect that depth. It deserves care. It deserves craft. It deserves developers who treat it like more than a niche side project.

When I write, organize ideas, build systems, host discussions, and push for structured feedback like independent surveys, I’m not begging one studio to listen.

I’m helping define what the genre should look like.

And there’s something even bigger at stake.

We do not want boxing stuck in a one-company ecosystem.

We want multiple major studios making boxing games.
We want competition that drives innovation.
We want different creative visions.
We want real evolution in gameplay, presentation, career modes, AI, and realism.

No genre thrives when one door controls the entire room.

Here’s the reality people ignore:
There are companies interested in boxing.

But serious studios don’t invest millions of dollars blindly.
They don’t gamble on guesswork.
They don’t build games based on scattered tweets and loud arguments.

They want clarity.
They want organized demand.
They want credible data.
They want proof that players care about specific features, systems, and experiences.

They refuse to play a guessing game with budgets that big.

That’s why advocacy matters.
That’s why structure matters.
That’s why documentation matters.
That’s why community alignment matters.

This isn’t noise. This is signal.

Silence doesn’t move industries forward.
Communities that organize, document, and articulate what they want do.

Even if one company doesn’t respond, the work still matters.
Ideas don’t disappear.
Standards don’t vanish.
Future developers do research communities.
Publishers do look for market signals.
Studios do study player expectations.

The record we create today becomes the blueprint someone else uses tomorrow.

That’s impact.

Wanting smarter AI isn’t complaining.
Wanting deeper career ecosystems isn’t whining.
Wanting realism, authenticity, and meaningful player choice isn’t negativity.

It’s passion for the craft.

I’ve invested years into this space.
I know the sport.
I’ve lived it.
I’ve built platforms.
I’ve written detailed proposals.
I’ve created design frameworks.
I’ve had real conversations with people inside and around the industry.

That isn’t wasted time.

That’s commitment.
That’s advocacy.
That’s refusing to let a sport I love be treated carelessly in gaming.

Some people wait and accept whatever ships.
Some people disengage.
Some people criticize without offering solutions.

That’s not me.

I build.
I document.
I communicate.
I organize ideas so developers can actually use them.
I push for structured feedback so player voices become measurable insight, not background noise.

Not because change is guaranteed.
But because progress never happens without people who care enough to push.

If nothing changes today, the work still has value tomorrow.
If one studio ignores it, another may build on it.
If one game falls short, the blueprint for a better one still exists.

So no, I’m not wasting my time.

I’m investing it in raising the bar for an entire genre.
I’m investing it in the future of boxing games.
I’m investing it in the communities that love this sport.

And that will always be time well spent.