Steel City Interactive: Whose Company Is It Anyway?
Undisputed: Whose Game Is It Anyway?
The Dream That Hooked the Boxing World
A small studio from Sheffield once reignited an entire genre’s hope. When ESBC (eSports Boxing Club) appeared online, boxing fans finally felt seen.
The now-legendary Official Alpha Gameplay Features (First Look) video didn’t just trend — it exploded, pulling in over a million views. The footage showed fluid footwork, realistic defense, and punches that carried real momentum. No over-polish, no arcade chaos — just pure boxing.
Fans weren’t the only ones impressed. Developers, animators, and even rival studios applauded it as a bold, authentic step forward. ESBC wasn’t a game — it was a statement: boxing deserves better.
But somewhere after that high point, the studio’s rhythm began to slip.
From Underdog to Unrecognizable
What began as a simulation built on respect slowly morphed into something else — something safer. Mechanics simplified. Movements stiffened. Patches fixed symptoms instead of causes.
It was as if a different team had stepped into the corner.
And in some ways, that’s exactly what happened.
When Experience Rewrites Vision
Will Kinsler joined after that million-view explosion — after ESBC had already proven that realism sells. He came aboard to add “industry experience,” help with scaling, and bring professional order to the chaos of success.
But his arrival changed the studio’s energy. The tone of updates shifted from “we’re building something special” to “we’re balancing expectations.”
Fans and even other developers started whispering theories. Many knew Kinsler’s past ties to EA, and the speculation spread: was he unintentionally — or even intentionally — steering SCI away from true simulation to protect the corporate giant he once worked with?
There’s no concrete evidence of sabotage, only community suspicion. Yet the fact that so many believed it shows how fractured the trust had become. Because from the outside, the changes looked less like guidance and more like interference.
The Founder Who Trusted the Wrong Voice
Ash Habib, the founder, was the believer. His vision was raw, fan-driven, and deeply personal. But when rapid growth arrived, so did pressure — investors, deadlines, and the fear of over-promising.
Habib leaned on Kinsler’s experience to stabilize the company. What he couldn’t see at first was that stability can also suffocate creativity. The more control shifted toward “industry best practices,” the less the game looked like the passion project that captivated the world.
It’s not that Kinsler didn’t understand games. It’s that he didn’t understand this one.
When the Cheerleaders Fell Silent
Remember all those early developers and studios who rooted for ESBC? The ones who praised its authenticity and ambition? Many of them have fallen silent.
The same professionals who once tweeted their excitement now avoid mentioning Undisputed altogether. They’ve watched the updates, seen the design changes, and privately echoed the same disbelief fans express publicly: Why walk away from what worked?
The uncomfortable answer seems to be: because someone thought it was too risky to keep being different.
The Culture Shift Inside the Gym
Inside Steel City Interactive, you can feel the clash of philosophies. Habib’s side wants the realism that earned fan loyalty; Kinsler’s approach prioritizes market safety and data-driven adjustments.
The communication has changed too. What once sounded like developers speaking directly to fans now reads like polished PR. The transparency that built trust has been replaced with the same scripted tone players hear from big publishers.
And that’s what hurts most — SCI was supposed to be the opposite of that.
A Vision Lost Between Two Voices
The founder built momentum; the veteran redirected it. Somewhere between them, the authenticity died.
Now, Undisputed feels like a talented boxer forced to fight someone else’s strategy — capable, but hesitant. It moves like boxing, but it doesn’t think like boxing anymore.
The Sarcasm That Writes Itself
The title Undisputed once symbolized conviction. Today, it feels ironic.
Nothing about the studio’s direction is undisputed.
Ash had the dream.
Will brought the structure.
But the structure buried the dream.
And fans, who once believed in both, are left asking the simplest question of all:
Whose game is this now?
The Final Bell
Steel City Interactive didn’t just make a boxing game — it made people believe that boxing games could matter again. That belief drew millions before a single publisher was involved.
Then the company invited in “experience,” and experience rearranged the soul.
The tragedy isn’t just that the game changed — it’s that the world saw how good it could be before it did.
Until Steel City Interactive remembers that first viral moment, the one before the consultants and the compromises, the fight for authenticity remains unfinished.
Because in boxing — and in game development — the hardest punch to recover from is the one you land on yourself.




