Thailand’s underground cockfighting world just got a headline-grabbing jolt: a champion rooster named Fakhamram — fresh from an earth-shaking victory at Kaew Khok Krot stadium in Nakhon Ratchasima — has been sold for a jaw-dropping 6.5 million baht. The sale came hot on the heels of a five-round, multimillion-baht showdown on Sunday, August 17, that featured two elite birds and a prize pot so enormous it felt more like a sporting spectacle than a traditional fight: 125.1 million baht.
The epic clash: Fakhamram vs. Jao Kaotao
Under the lights at Kaew Khok Krot, Fakhamram — representing Richa Farm — faced off against Jao Kaotao of Ban Suan Nong B White Rooster Farm in a match that had the crowd holding its collective breath. Both birds fought under the customary rules for high-stakes matches: spurs and gaffs wrapped, five bruising rounds, and drama to spare.
Fakhamram set the tone early, landing sharper, cleaner blows and slipping out of harm’s way with an agility that seemed almost theatrical. By the end of round one he had edged ahead on points; round two only widened the gap as Jao Kaotao struggled to find a rhythm. By round four the writing was on the wall — Fakhamram had claimed victory, sending fans into a frenzy and cementing his reputation as a bona fide cockfighting legend.
A multimillion-baht transfer — and a stable’s bragging rights
The morning after the spectacle, on August 18, owner Apichart of Richa Farm confirmed that Fakhamram had been transferred to the Num Rong Mee stable for 6.5 million baht, with a 1 million baht deposit. The new owner hailed the purchase as the priciest rooster they’ve ever bought, and social media quickly circulated a bank slip showing a 3 million baht transfer — the caption hinting at staggered payments and gratitude for the deal.
To put the figure in perspective, Fakhamram’s price tag now rivals mid-range luxury cars and small property deposits in Thailand. For fans and critics alike, the sale wasn’t just a business transaction — it was the crowning of a feathered celebrity, a living trophy whose market value exploded after one spectacular performance.
Why the fuss? Money, prestige and a long tradition
Cockfighting in Thailand occupies a complex space: a traditional pastime for many, a high-stakes sport for some, and an underground market for others. Elite roosters like Fakhamram come with pedigrees, training regimens and reputations that can translate into enormous value. Owners don’t just buy a bird; they buy potential prize money, breeding value and bragging rights that echo through the tight-knit scene.
When Fakhamram walked out of the ring victorious, he took with him not only a trophy but also an immediate spike in market worth. The subsequent sale to Num Rong Mee is a reminder that in this subculture, a single performance can rewrite a rooster’s future — and its owner’s bank account.
Not all headlines are celebratory
While Fakhamram’s sale monopolized social feeds, darker news surfaced elsewhere in Thailand’s feathered-fighter circuit. In Nongprue, Chon Buri, two brazen thieves made off with four prized Burmese fighting roosters from a breeder’s home in separate early-morning raids. CCTV footage captured the duo pilfering two birds on consecutive days along the railway road, and the suspects are still at large.
The thefts illustrate another reality of high-value livestock: where there’s money and prestige, there’s incentive for criminal activity. For owners of championship roosters, security is becoming as much a part of the business as training and matchmaking.
A spectacle that raises eyebrows
Love it or loathe it, Fakhamram’s journey — from Richa Farm to the winner’s perch at Kaew Khok Krot, then onto Num Rong Mee for 6.5 million baht — has captured imaginations. The saga reads like a sports transfer window crossed with a wildlife auction, complete with social-media proof, deposit notes and fanfare.
Whether Fakhamram will justify his price tag in future ring appearances remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: for a little while at least, the underground cockfighting scene in Thailand has delivered a story that’s equal parts drama, commerce and cultural spectacle. And somewhere in Nakhon Ratchasima, a new stable owner is already dreaming of returns — financial and reputational — on an investment that has the whole community talking.
Keep an eye on the ring. If history is any teacher, Fakhamram’s next moves will be watched, bet upon, and debated well beyond the wooden rails of Kaew Khok Krot.
This is absurd — paying millions for a rooster feels like a parody of sports culture, not tradition anymore.
You don’t get it, Joe; in that world the bird is like a footballer with bloodlines and earnings potential, it’s an investment.
I get that money talks, but when did animal welfare and ethics get priced out of the conversation?
From a sociocultural standpoint, this is a mix of ritual, gambling economy, and status signaling — complex but worth critiquing.
Status signaling is exactly it; some people buy prestige, others buy returns. Neither is purely moral or immoral on its face.
Six and a half million baht for a rooster? That’s theft dressed as fandom, plain and simple.
It’s not theft if both sides agreed, Larry; it’s a market with supply and demand, like any other niche sport.
Agree it’s a market, but markets don’t absolve ethical questions. This one feels exploitative to me.
I follow bloodlines and training; Fakhamram probably has years of selective breeding and proven offspring value.
Selective breeding for fighting traits raises animal welfare red flags though, breeding for harm is morally dicey.
Breeding can be regulated and focused on health too; it’s not automatically abusive if done responsibly.
This reads like a sports transfer saga, yet it’s tied to illegal and underground gambling — society needs to ask tougher questions.
As an anthropologist I find the phenomenon fascinating: ritualized violence, modern commodification, and social capital all intersect here.
Fascinating indeed, but anthropological curiosity shouldn’t erase advocacy for animal welfare and legal reform.
Certainly, academic understanding can complement policy suggestions; it’s not an either/or.
Policy is hard because it’s culturally embedded; outsiders labelling it immoral can backfire politically.
People romanticize tradition to dodge the uncomfortable parts, like the thefts mentioned in Chon Buri.
Those thefts show how criminal networks exploit any high-value commodity, not just roosters.
Exactly, and when there’s too much money, security becomes another industry around the birds.
If this were a legal, regulated sport with welfare standards, I’d be less bothered. Right now it’s a mess.
As someone who grew up near the stadium, it’s part spectacle and part community event, with real pride and stakes.
Pride is valid, but there’s a thin line between cultural celebration and harmful practice that harms animals and normalizes gambling.
True, but change can’t come by shaming communities; it needs dialogue and alternatives that respect tradition.
I bet the new owner expects returns, but betting records from underground fights are unreliable and inflated.
Inflated claims are part of the hype cycle; social media proof like bank slips fuels speculation, not truth.
Right, a viral image doesn’t equal full payment or sustainability; it’s marketing.
Six million baht could transform a poor village’s health services, yet it’s sunk into one animal — what does that say about priorities?
I love the drama, honestly; it’s like MMA but rawer and older, and I can’t look away from the spectacle.
Spectacle and betting go hand in hand; where there’s adrenaline, there’s money, and where there’s money, there’s crime.
Fair point, but outlawing the spectacle will just drive it further underground and make it worse.
As someone who analyses odds, elite roosters are assets — but the black market valuation creates volatility and theft risks.
I think the outrage is performative in many comments; many modern ‘sports’ have ugly histories yet we celebrate them.
Comparative history matters, Tanya; we can both critique practices and understand their evolution without excusing harm.
Agree, but selective moralizing feels hypocritical when other violent sports are mainstream and profitable.
A legal pivot toward regulated competitions with strict welfare protocols could salvage some cultural elements while reducing harm.
I watched the clip and Fakhamram moved like a trained athlete; the skill is real even if the context is problematic.
Skill can be acknowledged without endorsing the event’s legality or ethics; we can have both views.
Fair — I just don’t want to erase the craft of training animals from the conversation.
If communities depend economically on these events, blanket bans could harm people; solutions must be nuanced.