WHERE ARE THEY NOWwhere-are-they-nowdawg-fightdada-5000

WHERE ARE THEY NOW: FIGHTERS FROM THE DAWG FIGHT DOCUMENTARY

What happened to the fighters from Dawg Fight? From Dada 5000's rise to BKB owner to the tragic fate of Treon Johnson, tracking everyone from the 2015 Netflix documentary.

March 3, 20267 MIN READARTICLE

Where Are They Now: Fighters from the Dawg Fight Documentary

When director Billy Corben's Dawg Fight premiered on Netflix in 2015, it pulled the curtain back on a world that most Americans had only glimpsed through shaky YouTube clips. The documentary took viewers into the backyards of West Perrine, Florida -- a neighborhood in unincorporated Miami-Dade County defined by poverty, violence, and a backyard fighting culture that served as both entertainment and survival mechanism for the young men who lived there.

The film centered on Dhafir "Dada 5000" Harris, the promoter who organized bare knuckle bouts in his backyard and gave fighters from the neighborhood an outlet for the aggression that might otherwise manifest as gang violence or street crime. But Dawg Fight was never just one man's story. It was the story of a community, and the fighters who populated its backyard rings carried the film's emotional weight.

A decade after its release, the fates of those fighters tell a story as complicated and often tragic as the documentary itself.


Dada 5000 (Dhafir Harris): From Backyard Promoter to BKB Chairman

Dada 5000 was always more promoter than fighter, but Dawg Fight cemented his reputation as both. The documentary showed him organizing bouts, recruiting fighters, and building an infrastructure for backyard combat in one of Florida's most dangerous neighborhoods. He was the Don King of the underground -- charismatic, controversial, and impossible to look away from.

The years following the documentary's release were turbulent. In February 2016, Dada fought Kimbo Slice on Bellator's main card -- a fight that nearly killed him. After losing by TKO in the third round, Dada went into cardiac arrest backstage and was rushed to the hospital with kidney failure. The fight was eventually ruled a no-contest after Kimbo tested positive for a steroid. Four months later, Kimbo was dead from congestive heart failure.

Those twin tragedies could have ended Dada's story. Instead, they became the foundation of his second act. In April 2019, Dada co-founded BYB Extreme Fighting Series alongside Mike Vazquez, creating a professional, state-sanctioned bare knuckle promotion that formalized the same type of fighting he had been running illegally in his backyard. BYB merged with the UK-based BKB in 2024, rebranding as BKB Bare Knuckle Boxing.

The promotion secured broadcast deals with VICE TV and Telemundo Deportes Ahora, giving it access to millions of viewers. Dada remains a central figure in the organization, though his own competitive career has been complicated by his cardiac history. A scheduled return bout was pulled by the Florida State Boxing Commission following a medical evaluation that raised concerns about his heart.

The man who ran illegal backyard fights in the documentary now runs a legitimate bare knuckle promotion with network television deals. Dawg Fight was not the end of his story. It was the prologue.


Treon "Tree" Johnson: The Tragedy at the Heart of the Film

No discussion of the Dawg Fight fighters can proceed without acknowledging the fate of Treon "Tree" Johnson. One of the documentary's most prominent and compelling fighters, Johnson was a physical specimen who brought raw power and genuine heart to the Perrine backyard ring. His fights were among the film's most memorable sequences.

In February 2014, Johnson was killed at the age of 27 after being struck by a police Taser during an encounter with law enforcement. His death devastated the Perrine community and profoundly affected the filmmakers. Director Billy Corben later said that Johnson's death was one of the factors that galvanized his determination to complete and release the film regardless of distribution challenges.

Johnson's death underscored the precariousness of life in West Perrine and the broader reality that the fighters in Dawg Fight were not performing for cameras -- they were living in a world where violence, whether in the backyard ring or on the streets, was a daily presence. Tree Johnson should have had decades of life ahead of him. Instead, he became a symbol of everything the documentary was trying to say about the neighborhoods that produce backyard fighters.


Kimbo Slice: The Final Footage

Kimbo Slice was not a Dawg Fight fighter in the traditional sense, but his presence in the documentary is among the most historically significant footage captured of him before his death. Kimbo grew up in the same Perrine neighborhood as Dada, and the two men's histories were deeply intertwined. The documentary featured Kimbo in scenes that provided context for the broader backyard fighting culture of South Florida.

When Kimbo died of congestive heart failure on June 6, 2016, the footage in Dawg Fight took on an additional layer of historical weight. The documentary became one of the last substantial visual records of the man who had invented viral street fighting, captured in the neighborhood where it all began.

For a deeper look at Kimbo's impact and what happened to the people around him, see our dedicated article on Kimbo Slice's lasting legacy.


The Neighborhood Fighters: Mixed Outcomes in a Tough Community

Beyond the headline names, Dawg Fight featured a roster of fighters drawn from the streets of West Perrine and surrounding areas. These were not professional athletes. They were young men from one of Miami-Dade County's most economically challenged communities, fighting for small purses, local pride, and the adrenaline rush that comes from stepping into an unregulated ring.

The outcomes for these fighters have been mixed. Some used the discipline and confidence gained in the backyard ring to pursue sanctioned amateur fighting. A small number transitioned into professional MMA or boxing at the regional level. But the majority returned to the civilian lives they had been living before the cameras arrived -- working construction, driving trucks, holding down whatever employment was available in a neighborhood where opportunities are scarce.

West Perrine remains one of the most impoverished communities in the Miami metropolitan area. The median household income is well below the county average, violent crime rates are elevated, and the systemic challenges that shaped the lives of the Dawg Fight fighters persist. The documentary did not change those conditions. It documented them.


Billy Corben: The Director's Continuing Legacy

Billy Corben was already an established documentarian before Dawg Fight, known for Cocaine Cowboys and its sequel, which chronicled the drug trade in 1980s Miami. Dawg Fight represented a shift in subject matter but maintained Corben's signature ability to find compelling human stories within communities that mainstream media typically ignores.

Corben has continued to produce documentaries focused on Miami culture and Florida life. His work on the Dawg Fight story remains one of the most accessible entry points for audiences interested in the underground fighting scene, and the film continues to attract new viewers on streaming platforms.

The documentary's enduring relevance is a testament to Corben's filmmaking, but it also reflects the timelessness of the themes it explores: poverty, masculinity, violence as outlet, and the human capacity to build something -- even something as raw as a backyard fighting operation -- out of nothing.


The BYB Connection: From Documentary to Promotion

The most direct line from Dawg Fight to the present runs through BYB Extreme and its successor, BKB Bare Knuckle Boxing. Dada 5000 has been explicit about the connection: the visibility that the documentary provided helped him build the audience and credibility he needed to launch a legitimate promotion.

In a very real sense, the fighters and stories of Dawg Fight are the origin story of BKB. The backyards of West Perrine were the laboratory where Dada refined his promotional instincts. The fighters who competed there were the proof of concept that demonstrated a market for raw, ungloved combat. The documentary itself was the marketing vehicle that carried the concept beyond the neighborhood.

Several fighters from the Perrine scene eventually competed in BYB's early events, providing continuity between the underground era and the professional one. The transition was not smooth -- some fighters lacked the discipline or training to compete in a sanctioned environment, and the step up in competition level was significant -- but the pipeline existed, and it was built on the foundation that Dawg Fight had documented.


The Debate: Did the Documentary Help or Exploit?

Among the Perrine community, opinions about Dawg Fight are divided. Some view the documentary as a positive force that brought national attention to their neighborhood's struggles and ultimately helped Dada build a legitimate business. Others see it as exploitation -- outside cameras profiting from the poverty and violence that residents experience daily.

This debate is not unique to Dawg Fight. It attaches to virtually every documentary about underground fighting. When Streetbeefs was profiled by ESPN and The New York Times, similar questions were raised. When Vice covered King of the Ring in Manchester, the same tension between documentation and exploitation surfaced.

The fighters themselves have offered varying perspectives. For some, the documentary was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to them -- a chance to be seen by a national audience. For others, particularly in the wake of Treon Johnson's death, the film was a reminder that the cameras eventually leave but the problems stay.


Where the Documentary Sits in 2026

A decade after its Netflix premiere, Dawg Fight occupies a specific place in the underground fighting canon. It is the best visual record of the Miami backyard fighting scene that produced Kimbo Slice, Dada 5000, and the culture that eventually spawned multiple professional bare knuckle promotions. It is also a time capsule of a community and a way of life that has largely disappeared from West Perrine, not because the conditions improved but because the fighting migrated to regulated venues.

The fighters from Dawg Fight are scattered. Some are competing professionally. Some are raising families. Some are incarcerated. One is dead. And one -- Dada 5000 -- is running a bare knuckle promotion with network television deals and international expansion plans.

The documentary captured a moment. What happened after that moment ended is, in many ways, more interesting than the film itself.


For more on Dada 5000's journey from backyard promoter to BKB chairman, see our profile in Underground Fighting Legends. For the broader story of Kimbo Slice's impact, read Kimbo Slice's Lasting Legacy.