THE W.A.D.E. Concept - WEEK IN REVIEW - ANDREW TATE AND JAKE PAUL RESPOND!! INOUE DOMINATES HIS OPPONENT...

We’re back home, my voice is in and out, but thank you for the love these past weeks. Early holiday hugs to everyone; today we unpack Andrew Tate’s reaction to the Chase DeMoor upset, and I’m hoping for accountability, not a parade of excuses.

I shut out Christmas and New Year and thought about nothing but this fight. My life paused until December twentieth and then restarted.

That kind of sacrifice is standard in fight prep, which is why this one hurts more when you truly believed you’d roll through Chase.

I don’t live for other people’s opinions. I took the risk against a younger, bigger, more active guy, I’m not scared of him, he beat me, and I’d fight again; I just gassed after two rounds, maybe ring rust, age, or his weight leaning.

Come on—clearly the online noise bothers you; the posts and retweets after the loss gave that away. You didn’t enter thinking you were too old; you expected an early knockout and it didn’t happen, so own the result.

If you do come back, it should be a rematch with Chase; beating someone smaller won’t feel like real redemption.

You won the first two, then your tank emptied and the bigger man mauled you in the clinch. There are no what‑ifs—Chase cut down hard to make weight, fought ugly by design, and your camp didn’t prepare for that grind.

I respect Chase and won’t cheapen it with excuses or rematch talk. There are forces bigger than us; maybe I was meant to lose, maybe he needed the win more, maybe I lost a night of cigars so I get one more minute with my brother; I was in perfect shape and still got zapped.

That framing is disrespectful to Chase. He pushed through when it got messy and wanted it more, not because the universe dialed down your stamina.

Also, it wasn’t a ten‑year layoff—you fought in 2020—so drop the revisionist angle. The “if I were twenty‑three” and “I could’ve chosen a tin can” stuff, plus flexing the payday, undercuts the respect you claim to give.

Chase says I helped his mindset, and I’m proud of that—like training someone so well they can beat even me. Maybe God wanted me to lose so I’d have something to teach; I find the silver in every cloud and I’d still take the fight knowing the result.

Credit for mentoring doesn’t mean you own his win. If you want a different outcome, change the camp and the conditioning, not the storyline.

It’s not hard to get beat up. I thought I took two rounds, then the mental pressure and ten‑ounce gloves hit different, my cardio dipped, and yeah, the jaw hurts.

On paper you maybe took the first and that’s it; the plan was movement and survival to create a few chances, not a phone‑booth war. The bigger question now is how that rebuilt jaw holds up after plates and screws.

Your chin spoke for itself—AJ iced others with that shot and you stayed conscious.

I literally said wow on the canvas; his power didn’t surprise me until it surprised my jaw.

Did you do better than Francis? You lasted longer and nicked a round, but he engaged more and ate several clean shots before going out, so the chin debate is murky. Calling out Francis now is risky with that jaw; one clean bomb could end a comeback.

People yelling runner miss what that fight demanded; some folks just want blood and ignore context.

Fans can dislike the style and still be fair. The hype sold a war, but the only workable plan for you was movement, clinches, and sparse counters, which was never going to be pretty.

It was mental more than anything—the size, the shots, the pressure. I figured I needed more gas, maybe altitude, I started at two hundred and bulked; I learned a lot, and I swear I buzzed him once.

AJ told you he’d break you mentally and he did; no altitude ifs, he’s just levels above you in size and skill. That right hand you landed was big, but it didn’t wobble him.

I’m still boxing.

I’m taking some time off to support you at the Olympics, maybe split time in Puerto Rico, and honestly I’ve got baby fever—I want kids bad, and you’re gonna be a great dad.

I feel that season of life too—Rocky’s with us, Chloe’s moving in, and I’m ready to start a family—now, about Jake and whether he keeps boxing after that double jaw surgery.

There’s precedent; Jai Opetaia came back from a similar bilateral break, and surgeons say once the bone fuses and the plates settle, the risk is not higher than before.

I’m still cautious from my own surgeries—six to eight weeks to heal, liquids for around four, possible weight drop that could nudge him toward cruiserweight or even light heavyweight.

The Joshua fight did around thirty three million live viewers, huge gate, top ten in many countries, but it did not top Canelo versus Crawford, and Tyson’s draw was in another stratosphere.

Jake still sells with the right matchup, but fans want a fight that feels truly competitive; after a long layoff, I’d circle Tommy Fury, with Ngannou or a cruiserweight push as wild cards.

We pivot back to Inoue—dominant against Picasso, a clean twelve round sweep where the only real opening was that left hook lane he sometimes does not pick up.

He’s a joy to watch—shifts from defense to offense in a snap, eats up space, and even as a massive favorite he delivered exactly what a top pound for pound guy should.

The plan was Nakatani next in Japan, but he barely scraped by on the same card, which takes a little shine off the build while still being the likeliest next step.

My dream fight is Inoue versus Bam Rodriguez—small jump in weight, respectful killers who turn into savages on fight night, and I’d love it in the States to boost both names.

Saudi setting, a brief hand wrap dispute, then pure showcase—boxing as controlled violence, art with consequence; odds say Nakatani is next, but give me Bam and Inoue yesterday.

He’s edging toward the twilight of his prime, so line up the signature fights now—whether it’s Nakatani soon or Bam later, we’ll see what unfolds; we’ll find out.