
AUSTIN—As the lightbulb went off in Garret Wood’s head and he began to issue his challenge, two blasts of smoke erupted from the floor while a deafening echo from the crowd of 700 reverberated off the walls inside Fair Market, the small warehouse venue hosting this amateur boxing card in mid-October.
“Booooooo…”
Wood could hear the sold-out crowd antagonizing the next fighter. He could also hear White Collar Fight Night promoter Seth Zanutto screaming from his microphone.
It was so loud, one could barely hear themselves think.
But Wood, the CEO of the growth marketing agency GetScale, was clear.
“People talk a lot about Nick Bare,” he said of the Bare Performance Nutrition founder and CEO. “People know he can sell supplements. They know he runs. They know he can lift things up pretty quick. But I think the people want to know: Can he fight?”
Is that a challenge?
“Yeah, that’s a call-out,” Wood responded. “He’s got nothing to win from beating me up, a whole lot to lose, and that makes it absolutely terrifying, so I’m all-in on it.”
Mind you, this request came just minutes after Wood’s first win in the ring, a doctor’s stoppage verdict in his bout with Dominic Massimillian, a fellow CEO. Punch after punch, Wood forced his competitor to the ropes and then out of the fight. On those facts alone, he may have been, pound-for-pound, the best fighter of the night.
In some ways, though, the boxing part was easy.
Most fights went the distance on this night, which capped off the second annual White Collar Fight Night in East Austin. There was a little bit of boxing, a little bit of backyard-brawling, and a whole lot of heavy breathing.
Now, as for the post-fight glow that came next?
“It was a blur,” said Johnny Benavides, who opened the night and won his first bout.
Wood tried to slip his big frame through the crowd afterward, but it was tough. Onlookers in tailored suits and evening dresses bunched shoulder-to-shoulder inside the converted warehouse in East Austin. Drinks clinked. Smokes were had. Shouting for your favorite fighter was requisite. Everywhere Wood turned, another handshake followed. “You crushed it,” one friend said. “Unbelievable,” said another.
“It’s so nice that my friends showed up before the fight, not after,” Wood said, “and that’s because they wanted to watch the fights. But they also loved me regardless. It was great to put on a show for them.”

Fighters mill around the staging area before White Collar Fight Night on October 17. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night

Garrett Wood readies for another round in the ring during White Collar Fight Night on October 17. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night
Minutes after her own fight, Camille Cochran could uniquely understand that feeling.
The 30-year-old consultant for Adobe had been building up to this moment for so long. She had applied and signed up for White Collar Fight Night over three months ago. It was Zanutto, a long-time friend, personal trainer and founder of the series, who nudged her toward that goal.
The hard part was finding the time.
Cochran was a busy woman—from a high-stakes 9-to-5 job to responsibilities with a run club, marathon training, and nights out with friends. A total of 18 fighters withstood 12 weeks of training at Richard Lord’s Boxing Gym. Diego Ojeda, an Austin-based realtor who won his fight over Amir Lancaster, navigated a wrist injury at one point. His ringside moment came with a posse of family and friends watching his every step—including his mother, father, brother and girlfriend in the front row. “This is everything I could have imagined it would be,” he said.

Camille Cochran raises her hands in victory after defeating Suchi Desai in her boxing match at White Collar Fight Night on October 17. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night
Doing anything for the first time is one giant leap into the unknown.
“I’ve never been more nervous,” Cochran said.
But entering the ring, she looked the part. And that was in a literal sense: she braided her hair into tight cornrows, much like Laila Ali. Maybe it was strategy—to intimate her competitor. Or maybe it was posture—I need to look like a fighter.
Whatever the reason, it worked, because Cochran and her competitor, Suchi Desai, backed up Zanutto’s big bet on a women’s fight within the first few seconds. The tandem traded blows, looking every bit as comfortable as the men.
Steady on her feet, Cochran threw punches with ferocity, more than once forcing Desai onto her back foot. Desai countered. But Cochran always had an answer.
She credited her cornerman, Richard Lord—the owner of Richard Lord’s Boxing Gym and Austin’s longtime boxing statesman—who told her, “Don’t throw anything but a one-two. This is a straight punch fight.”

Johnny Benavides, head of partnerships at Supabase, won the first fight of the night. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night
Cochran earned the decision after the third round.
“Winning was definitely the reward,” she said. “I’m very happy I won. I’m not someone who wins a ton of shit because I don’t do things like this.”
The first fight of the night, however, didn’t go exactly to plan. While officials built the ring from scratch inside Fair Market, there were some hiccups getting the ropes to meet regulations. As the clock struck 9 p.m., Zanutto calmed the crowd and implored them to remain patient. Benavides, the head of partnerships at the AI-scaling platform Supabase, struggled to cage his energy ahead of his matchup with Lorenzo Bluesummer. “That was a bit difficult to control, the things we didn’t plan for,” he said.
There was also a late, technical scratch—two fighters, Josh Lincoln and Bob Miranda, were deemed ineligible because they were more than 10 years apart in age (a rule they only learned less than 24 hours out from the fight, Lincoln told Austin Fit Magazine).

While a total of 18 fighters trained for White Collar Fight Night, only 16 could fight on October 17. two fighters–Josh Lincoln and Bob Miranda–were ineligible because they were more than 10 years apart in age. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night
Once the green light was given, cannons billowed smoke into the air, walkout music played, and boxers ambled their way into the ring. Spectators lined up in chairs ringside, while VIPs ordered gin and tonics and reveled in the night in cordoned-off areas. A production company streamed the event live. Commentators gave their insights from the floor. The first fight felt like one giant fever dream, a series of punches whistling into the air, bodies smashing into one another.
Benavides eventually steadied and earned the judges’ points. “Candidly, when you get hit for the first time, you just have to respond,” he said. “And that’s what I did.”

Diego Ojeda prepares to defend against Amir Lancaster during White Collar Fight Night on October 17. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night
The third fight of the night was perhaps its best. Ojeda paired against Lancaster, two social media stars aligning for bragging rights. Ojeda had previously fought in another boxing event, so the matchup was not his first. But Lancaster, who in April recorded a 4.5-second 40-yard dash and a 44.5-inch vertical jump at an athletic combine, was no novice athlete either.
The fight was ballistic, fast, and jaw-droppingly good. Ojeda leveled a punch. Lancaster came back with another. The rounds flew by. Lancaster looked like the superior fighter. But Ojeda was nailing him where it hurt.
By the time the fight finished, Lancaster was hunched over the ropes, gasping for air.
Ojeda took the title, and his family absolutely lost it. For the next 15 minutes, his family whooshed through the crowd, cameras and flashes in tow. Ojeda’s brother, the social media star Alex Ojeda—who in 2025 was described by Time as the “Tom Cruise of TikTok”—followed Diego around, and the starboy moniker was flipped.
“I don’t know what to say,” Ojeda said. “This is kind of crazy.”

Seth Zanutto, the founder of White Collar Fight Night, was also its promoter and ringside announcer. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night
While the fervor continued into the night, Wood made a stark connection that put it all into perspective.
“I don’t mean to preach,” he said, “but one of the best things about believing in Christ is all the important questions you ask yourself, like, ‘Who am I?’ and ‘Am I enough?’ Those questions you answer to yourself before you do any of this.
“Then you can step into these things and take it for what it is: boxing is just boxing. It’s a lot more fun when you’re not answering big questions. You can just go do this because it’s fun.”
Maybe Wood went home satisfied that he gave it his best. Maybe he also believed that a couple minutes of fighting was just that—that it was one fleeting moment.
But in a perfect world, his next round wouldn’t be so far away. He might seek the answers driving him forward, toward another fight and another glamorous night like this. Maybe he could finally put to rest the question that’s been on his mind since he started this journey three months ago.
“Am I the baddest CEO in Austin?”

Diego Ojeda won his battle with Amir Lancaster, though both came up bloodied from the effort. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night

Garrett Wood speaks to the crowd following his win at White Collar Fight Night. Photo Credit: Ian Clennan/White Collar Fight Night