I keep asking myself this.

What would it actually take for RABZ Fight Promotions and combat sports to rival the biggest sports league in the Caribbean right now?

Is it the players?

Is it the event itself?

Is it pure hype?

Or do Caribbean people simply care more about cricket than kickboxing, boxing, and martial arts?

Because credit where it’s due, CPL cricket did something special.

They took a sport that came from England and India, wrapped it in Caribbean music, colour, rhythm, and culture, and made it feel like it belongs to us. Now names like Nicholas Pooran, Dwayne Bravo, Sunil Narine, Shai Hope, and teams like the Knight Riders feel completely Caribbean.

So the real question becomes this.

If cricket could do that, what’s stopping Caribbean combat sport?

Across Trinidad and Tobago and the wider Caribbean, live kickboxing and combat sports events are quietly growing, drawing crowds that want more than just sport. They want a real fight night experience.

Is It the Stars?

Cricket has stars. Big ones.

But don’t fighters become stars the same way?

At what point do names like Ronaldo Diaz, Joshua James, Le Shaun Moreno, Nevin Byer, and Zachary Gonsalves stop being “local fighters” and start being Caribbean figures?

Do people really fall in love with sports first, or do they fall in love with people?

Is It the Event?

Let’s be honest. CPL isn’t just cricket.

It’s a vibe.

Music.
Crowd noise.
Flags waving.
Energy before the first ball is even bowled.

So what happens when kickboxing events stop feeling like just fights and start feeling like a full cultural moment?

That shift is exactly what a Caribbean fight promotion like RABZ Fight Promotions is trying to build through live kickboxing events that blend sport, culture, and entertainment.

At RABZ, the fight matters, but it isn’t the only thing happening. The culture carries just as much weight. Maybe that’s the real comparison point, not formats or rulesets.

Or Is It Something Deeper?

Because here’s where it gets interesting.

Cricket had to be adapted to us.

Combat didn’t.

Combat sports have always existed in Caribbean society, long before modern leagues, formal rules, or professional boxing structures.

At our core, West Indians descend from Caribs, Arawaks, tribal warriors. Fighting isn’t foreign to us, it’s ancient. It’s embedded. There’s something about it that feels primitive and raw, almost cellular.

You can’t really explain it.

Fans may never step into the ring themselves, but watching a live kickboxing or boxing event in the Caribbean hits different.

The only thing stopping life changing damage is the referee.
You hear the leather gloves crack.
You see sweat fly with every punch.
The crowd reacts instantly.

It scratches an itch that only fights can scratch.

For many fans, attending a live kickboxing or boxing event in the Caribbean feels less like watching a sport and more like participating in something shared.

So What’s the Real Question?

Is the ceiling for combat sports in the Caribbean actually lower?

Or have we just never fully committed to building it the right way?

Because if cricket could be transformed into CPL by leaning fully into Caribbean identity, then maybe the real question isn’t whether kickboxing can rival cricket at all.

Maybe it’s this. What happens when Caribbean combat sport finally stops asking for permission and becomes exactly what it was always meant to be?