Not since our very own Carl “Cobra” Froch sparked George Groves in front of 80,000 fans at Wembley has a rematch been so hotly anticipated.
Nottingham boxing fans prepare yourselves, take a night off from your almost healthy lifestyle and indulge with me, order those pizzas, crack those beers, get that coffee on because it’s going to be a long night in Vegas. Saturday Night/Sunday Morning, birdsong hour. By then we should have our champion.
Of course anyone with two eyes knows how the first fight went. No questions, no doubt. Tyson had the points, by a clear country mile. But I said it then, and I’ll say it again,
A paradoxical conundrum: Fury deserved to win, but Wilder didn’t deserve to lose.
That sledgehammer in the last round. Timber. Big man falling. Big man down. Eyes wide. Lights out. It was over…or so we thought. Almost like a hand reached down from the gods and hoisted The Furious One back onto his feet.
Miraculously back from the dead like The Undertaker in the WWF. It was a blinding sight to see. Unfathomable. Fight fans worldwide left open-mouthed as the Gypsy King jogged around the ring like an apparition.
That last round was one of the greatest three minutes not just in boxing, but in sport, and maybe not just in sport but in life itself, as it was a powerful metaphor for The Comeback, of being down and out, at the bottom, on the brink, only to rise again.
You only need to watch the new three-part documentary on ITV, or to read his autobiography Behind the Mask to know that our Tyson Fury has faced more than his fair share of demons outside the ring. Depression. Bi-polar. Substance and alcohol misuse. Of course he is one of many, but to have his story in the public eye is inspirational to us all. Love him or hate him he is a breath of fresh air; roguish, random, open, changeable, charitable, imperfect, outrageous, big-mouthed, big-headed, big-hearted and bombastic. A bewildering contradiction of being both vainglorious and vulnerable at the same time.
But what of his opponent, Alabama country-boy, Bronze Bomber, Deontay Wilder? Already dubbed as the hardest-hitting, knock-out merchant in the history of the sport. Perplexing where he derives his power from, spaghetti stature, he often resembles that of a basketball player rather than a heavyweight boxing champion, but his record speaks for itself: 42 wins, 41 coming by way of K.O. Sparring partners all over the world reporting back about this freakish power. Must be the elasticity of his limbs, summoning searing strength from the snap in his shots. Sonic BOOM.
They say that styles make fights and that’s why this one is so enthralling, just as it was the first time. Tyson Fury the tricky technician, the word “masterclass” is often overused or misused in the world of boxing but with Fury not so. A true pugilistic genius. Switching styles, southpaw and then back again, slipping, feinting, endlessly slick. Awkward and unpredictable, you never quite know what you’re going to get. That bothersome herky-jerky bearing which had the great Wladimir Klitschko frustrated, and eventually beat in one of the biggest upsets of all-time. Tyson’s departure from Ben Davison has left a few questions floating in the air, the young trainer and friend who was instrumental in his dramatic ten stone weight loss and the monumental comeback in the first fight has since been amicably side-lined for the rematch. Tyson going back to his former roots by way of the Kronk Gym, Detroit. Home of the late, legendary Emanuel Steward and current trainer SugarHill. Tyson’s stated reason that he wants to concentrate more on developing power. It’s clear he is going for some kind of stoppage, win by way of points not being enough, leaving nothing to chance on American soil. We all know what happened last time.
This versus the style of Deontay Wilder? Does Deontay even have a style? Does he need one? Maybe his make-up is deceptively intricate. During his fights he puts out “the feels,” sizes up, sets up, measures range, watches, waits, patiently waits, minute by minute, round after round, only takes one lapse in concentration and then… Exit Door. Goodnight. Sleepy Time.
And that much-criticised Windmill City display only comes once the opponent is dazed and drugged from the dynamite of Deontay.
So you see why this showdown is so scintillating?? Two man-mountains without a loss on their record. The ‘O’ has got to go, as they say. Two intelligent, articulate showmen of deep faith and tunnel-vision. Their lives and legacies on the line. Wilder’s mantra of “one champion, one face, one name,” echoes through this division at the moment. For every couple of decades a new era washes upon our shores. Ali. Foreman. Frazier. Norton. Next came Lewis, Holyfield, Bowe, Golota, Bruno and the backend of Tyson. Now we have Fury, Wilder, Joshua, Ruiz, Whyte, Usyk and others.
So who will your money be on come Saturday? This fight doesn’t split judgement easy. A lot of fence-sitting this weekend, myself included. For me personally, if pressed, I’d have to go down the Tyson Fury path, just in that he had two-and-a-half years out last time, dropped ten stone, barely any warm-up fights, if any, and still did the number on him, but Wilder can never be counted out (no pun) with that get-out-of-jail-card constantly up his sleeve.
Put it one way, I won’t be down the bookies anytime soon, will you?
Book recommendation: The Fight by Norman Mailer.
(For no-frills, no BS, no black belts and no time-wasting in self-defence/combat training seek Chris Pemberton of KRAVolution.)
*Article provided by Joe Archer (Health & Lifestyle Correspondent).
*Main image @Telegraph the last fight went the distance, will this one?