Sometimes the fear is enough - John Riordan on Brooklyn shooting rumour

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK - Gervonta Davis celebrates after knocking out Rolando Romero with a left hook in the sixth round during their fight for Davis' WBA World lightweight title at Barclays Center on May 28, 2022 in Brooklyn, New York. (Photo by Al Bello/Getty Images)

The optimism intended by the ancient American adage of nothing to fear but fear itself has been hollowed out since Franklin D Roosevelt’s inaugural address in 1933.

Sometimes the fear is more than enough.

At 1am on Saturday night, rumours of an active shooter sent a couple thousand frantic Brooklyn fight fans stampeding back into the arena from the main concourse where thousands more feared for their lives.

Baltimore boxer Gervonta Davis had just stopped his opponent in the main event. It was a thrilling sixth round TKO that sent the almost 20,000 partizan Davis followers into delirium.

And since it’s a long weekend here in the US - one that marks the unofficial start of summer - the fear of party-fuelled violence is an entrenched tradition.

There was a travelling contingent too, up from Baltimore for the weekend to watch their young hero add further fame to his name.

In stark contrast to the historic night which happened in this town’s other large indoor arena a month ago where Katie Taylor and Amanda Serrano fought out a classic contest in front of jovial Irish and Puerto Rican fans, Saturday in Brooklyn was more in keeping with the usual tension of a big fight night.

Midway through the first round, as Davis soaked up the aggressive attacks of a hungry and angry Rolando Romero, a huge brawl broke out among spectators, just to the right of our position in the media seating.

Slightly elevated just behind the floor where celebrities such as Madonna, Naomi Osaka and Tracey Morgan were sat around luminaries of the fight game, the 20-man skirmish sent dozens others ducking for cover.

It drew attention away from the main event for a full minute and it was a portent of things to come.

When Davis finally ended the contest after Rolando Romero walked into his brutal left hook, the arena went wild. For ten or 15 minutes, it was unconfined joy all around and, as is standard, nobody wanted to leave until well after the champion himself had left the ring.

Another huge brawl broke out on the floor as spectators slowly made their way to the exits elsewhere. It didn’t bode well when several of the night’s unofficial fighters sprinted for the exits, steeling themselves for round two outside.

“Atlantic Avenue will be a mess,” I said to my Irish colleague Declan O’Kelly. We both counted our blessings that the delayed press conference would keep us at the arena for a few hours while the chaos outside unravelled before dwindling away.

Almost as soon as we uttered the words, all hell broke loose at the other end of the by now mostly empty arena.

From every possible entry way back into the arena from the concourse, as many as 2,000 people rushed in. The sound of screams and feet was intense. There was no let up for 20 seconds or so and we in our media pen could only watch on in confusion.

Which rapidly turned to fear, quickly ushering in acceptance.

After a two-week period during which mass shootings brought this country lower than it’s been in a while, the immediate understanding was that a shooter was not too far behind those panicked people, several of whom ended up with minor injuries brought about by the stampede.

Everyone crouched down and waited for the sound of bullets until the panic subsided. Sports Illustrated writer Chris Mannix irresponsibly tweeted out that he heard a gunshot almost immediately after the rush of people. We did not. It was an awful thing to do. He was quickly set straight by a phone call from someone who made him think again.

And we all then awkwardly lingered there until finally we were given the green light to head down to one of the only safe spaces in the building: the post-fight press conference.

I was there for Spike O’Sullivan but he had long gone and media access to undercard fighters is limited these days. No part of me wanted to venture outside so I stayed there listening to the inane sycophantic questions being softballed at Davis, Romero and the promoter.

There was no gunshot in the vicinity of the venue, NYPD officials confirmed later. But the fear itself was more than enough to traumatise everyone in attendance.