Boxing Rostrum

Having seen off Juan Urango to reclaim the IBF light welterweight crown Ricky Hatton finally gets to fulfill his dream - topping the bill at one of Las Vegas’ main venues. That will happen when he goes in with Jose Luis Castillo at the Thomas and Mack Center in June, and nobody can say Ricky hasn’t earned it.

Hatton took the light welter title from a great fighter in Kostya Tszyu. He’s had trouble of sorts in all three fights since, but still found ways to cope and conquer and run his record to an impressive 42-0. The man is a star. If Ricky takes the streak to forty three by beating Castillo in their summer meet, he’ll be one of boxing’s top names. But where will his career go from there?

Two years ago light welter was boxing’s hottest division. Kostya Tszyu, Floyd Mayweather and Miguel Cotto were high up in pound for pound considerations, and Arturo Gatti was still one of the game’s most exciting performers, along with Hatton himself. It did seem possible for a while that those guys would get to fight each other in elimination matches until we had a top dog, but boxing doesn’t work like that any more.

A start was made to the process with Hatton’s defeat of Tszyu and Mayweather’s punch perfect whipping of Arturo Gatti, but that’s as far as it went. Pretty Boy and Miguel Cotto have both moved on to bigger, heavier things, leaving the Brit stranded in a division that’s suddenly low on glamour.

Hatton jumped ship himself for a while, moving up to grab the WBA welterweight crown from Luis Collazo on points after what turned out to be a desperate struggle. Fighting at the higher poundage didn’t suit Ricky. That much was plain to see. It was another win, and another title, but his tank was bone dry by the final round and heart alone got him through to a unanimous decision that didn’t find favour with everybody. Hatton’s camp admitted the venture had been a mistake, counted their blessings, and brought him back to light welter where he clearly belongs.

Ricky Hatton has always wanted to be involved in Las Vegas superfights. Well, now he’s got one. Jose Luis Castillo is one of the fiercest battlers around and has been for years. The Mexican looked a bit off key last time out against Herman Ngoudjo, a fight he had to win to secure the Hatton job, and some are saying he’s a faded force – a shot fighter even. Ricky’s pal Wayne McCullough is among those to have expressed that view. On the grounds that it takes one to know one, the Pocket Rocket’s opinion can’t be dismissed out of hand, but it would surely be naïve to read too much into Castillo’s latest performance. That was a non title fight and Jose Luis had his non title fight head on. He did the necessary and no more. The real Castillo will turn up at the Thomas & Mack.

Ricky Hatton has one month to eat the pies and drink the Guinness, and three more months to prep for Castillo. Despite his further ambitions he can’t afford to let himself look beyond that. Castillo is a task that demands his full attention. We, however, do have the luxury of peering past June to see what might come next for Hatton. The forecast? Frustration lies in wait.

Even if Ricky wins again in June, and looks sensational in the doing, which could be the case given the fighters’ respective qualities, where is another super match-up to be had? Floyd Mayweather is going to box Oscar and, whatever happens, will not be revisiting light welter territory. Nor will Miguel Cotto. The awesome Puerto Rican was busting a gut to make that limit all along. He’s now comfortable and very strong at welterweight and there’ll be no turning back.

With Ricky certain to stay in his own division, unification of the belts would seem the only way to go. Just defending the IBF version would hardly feed Hatton’s craving for glory.

Of the other claimants, WBO champ Ricardo Torres would bring the best guarantee of excitement. He’s a real banger who can do all sorts of damage with single shots. Torres fell to Cotto in seven rounds but not without giving Miguel a nightmare ride. Cotto was dropped for the first time in his career and in dire straits on three separate occasions in that fight before finally getting it sorted. It remains the only setback in Torres’ log to date. Hatton and Torres would be worth watching and, notwithstanding boxing politics, it’s a match that probably could be made.

Getting Ricky Hatton into action with either of the other two holders might be a different matter, though. Souleymane M’Baye has the WBA title but he’s managed by Ricky’s former mentor Frank Warren and that presents problems because Hatton and his people said they wouldn’t work with Warren again after the long time relationship turned sour. Unless they relent, that stubborn refusal to put business before rancour will stop Hatton getting a fight he would be strongly favoured to win.

So what’s left. The WBC and it’s garrulous champion, Junior Witter. Junior has been calling out Hatton for years, to no avail, and even though he now has a world belt of his own to brag about it doesn’t seem to be something he can barter with. Ricky Hatton most likely got ten times as much for challenging Juan Urango as Witter earned for the defence of his own title the same night. That reflects their respective market appeal. It also explains why the Hatton-Witter match has never been made, despite the mutual animosity and all the verbals. Witter is so awkward and has such a weird style that nobody really wants to fight him, and not many want to watch him either. He’s capable, though, and if certain things fall into place it could be that Ricky will end up having to face his mouthy critic after all.

Junior Witter has a mandatory defence coming up against Juan Lazcano or Vivian Harris. They meet in an eliminator on February 10th. Witter will have to fight well to beat either of them, won’t be paid a life changing sum to do it, and no matter how impressively he performs there won’t be any resultant clamour for a showdown between himself and Ricky Hatton. It would take a lot more to get that drum rolling. It would take the sort of thing that promoter Mick Hennessy is working on right now.

Hennessy says he’s in talks with the people around Diego “Chico” Corrales. He says there’s strong interest at the American end and seems quietly confident that a match can be made between Corrales and Junior Witter, provided Witter hangs on to his title next time up.

Diego Corrales is one of the most popular boxers in the world, and possibly the most exciting. Junior Witter could rack up six defences against legitimate contenders and not get the exposure that would come from a fight with Chico. That’s how big the opportunity would be if it comes off.

Corrales will forever be linked with Jose Luis Castillo after what the pair did to each other at the Mandalay Bay. Could have been the greatest fight in history. If there’s been a better one I haven’t had the pleasure, or the privilege, of seeing it.

Hatton goes in with Castillo in June. If Junior Witter can fight and beat Diego Corrales, also in the summer, in front of an American audience, he would surely be in a position to make Ricky a challenge he couldn’t refuse.

Ricky Hatton is IBF light welter champ again. Juan Urango picked up just one round on each of the cards, making it a comparable landslide to the Calzaghe v Lacy fight, but such comparisons end there. Calzaghe shut out Lacy in every minute of every round and by the second half of the bout Jeff had only courage to offer. This was different. Urango is bull strong, couldn’t be discouraged, and always looked capable of doing real damage if given the chance. But Hatton’s camp had the perfect strategy to deny him, and for the most part Ricky’s execution of it was spot on.

Urango raised his arms at the final bell, as he had done after several of the rounds, and he probably went away feeling that his non stop advance had won him the macho bragging rights. Wouldn’t want to begrudge him that because he did deserve some consolation for his efforts. But that’s all he won. Hatton won the fight itself by totally outboxing the defending champ. Ricky would likely have preferred a full on confrontation but the name of the game is winning, and doing what’s necessary to achieve that aim.

Between rounds, Billy Graham told Ricky to stay disciplined and not give the iron man any free targets. Sound advice. Hatton may still have won in a head to head tear up but that approach would have surrendered clear advantages and put Urango in with a serious chance of beating him.

Ricky Hatton hasn’t often needed to show his boxing, as opposed to fighting, skills but he needed them here, and he used them. It was good stuff. He was too fast, too smart, and too good for Juan Urango. But Hatton still had frights to contend with along the way.

Withering body shots hurt Ricky in the fifth. He was in trouble, no question. The whole thing could have turned on it if Hatton’s resolve had wavered and I admit to feeling he’d have a terrible struggle on his hands from there. Ricky is a warrior, though. He’s been in demanding situations before and come through. Same here. His efforts became a bit more conservative than they’d been through the first four rounds but he kept doing enough to win sessions, if without being dominant. And he had another rough patch to ride out in the ninth when again taking shots downstairs. Never mind the scorecards, even though they were more or less on the money, strictly speaking. This was a tough fight. How tough? Let’s just say that the other hopefuls in this light welter division won’t be jumping any queues for a chance to face Juan Urango.

The betting in the Hatton v Urango fight is lopsided in favour of Ricky to an extent where a play on the Colombian might be a savvy move.

The bookies obviously think Juan Urango is out of his depth here, despite being the defending champ, and they could be right. They could also be very wrong. Urango looks a seriously strong man to me and has shown himself to be a hard puncher, especially against people he doesn’t have to chase. Ricky Hatton will be right there in front of him, and that makes Urango dangerous.

The Colombian didn’t seem anything special when picking up the IBF belt that Hatton had vacated. That was a points decision over Naoufel Ben Rabah. The bout was held in Florida, where Urango now lives, and that could have been a factor in his capturing a unanimous verdict even though most thought the Tunisian Aussie had been a shade too clever and shifty for him. But that fight, and the way it was conducted, shouldn’t have much bearing on what Urango faces in Vegas. Ben Rabah was a boxing matador. Hatton is a bull, like himself.

Ordinarily you would expect Ricky to be too seasoned for a man like Urango, that extra experience giving him quite an edge. Going strictly on what each of these boxers has actually achieved, there’s no real reason to believe Urango can win. But something tells me that Hatton has his hands full. In their face to face, Urango was smiling a relaxed smile, nothing forced, and had the look of a guy who is full of self belief.

And Juan Urango does have some experience of the trenches. The only blemish on his log was a draw against Mike Arnaoutis. Arnaoutis recently lost out by split decision to Ricardo Torres in a real tight one for the WBO version of the lightwelter crown. Torres had previously had the awesome Miguel Cotto in dire straights at least three times in a sensational battle. Those kind of linked formlines don’t necessarily mean anything but I’m prepared to accept the implication that Urango is a genuine hard case who is not likely to flinch in the line of fire.

What worries me most about tomorrow’s clash, though, is Ricky Hatton’s appearance. He’s done the full prep as always, no stone unturned, but he has a drained look about him to my eyes. Gaunt, even. And they say he had a cold only a week or so ago. I don’t like the sound of that one bit.

Tomorrow’s fight seems sure to be a long one. Hot favourite or not, I reckon Hatton needs to get this man under control early. If he doesn’t do that, and it’s still close and competitive after six, this could be another close run thing to go with the Collazo affair.

Muhammad Ali is 65 today. Tributes and celebrations will be worldwide, and rightly so. He really was the greatest. The greatest heavyweight. I’m very comfortable with that belief. He could adapt to cope with any style and that unique versatility puts him ahead of all who went before, and all who have followed.

Ironic, is it not, that in the week of Ali’s birthday boxing should see the heaviest title fight of all time. Nikolay Valuev and Jameel McCline meet in Switzerland and the pair of them will be hauling a combined 600 pounds or so into the ring.

Maybe the fight will be a war. Probably not. Chances are the fans will see something in keeping with the neutral country it’s being staged in.

It would be nice to be wrong about that, though. Boxing needs excitement in the heavyweight division. To generate that excitement, of course, what boxing really needs is one heavyweight champion, as in the days when Ali topped the mountain. Everybody knew he was the man, and to become the man you had to get past him. Exactly how it should be. But that plain and simple concept – one champion, many challengers – will not be revisited any time soon. Could be we’ll never see it again.

For now we have to settle for the giant Valuev defending his quarter of the cake against a none too tiny McCline. Jameel McCline may be outsized by Saturday’s opponent but is huge himself, virtually the same height and weight as was Primo Carnera, the monster figure from the thirties.

If McCline is highly motivated, as he should be, Valuev’s people may have made a mistake in giving him the fight. Jameel has some natural ability, a bit more than the Russian anyway, and he’s had some decent wins. He’s big enough and tall enough to reach Nikolay with punches and if the belief is in him, and he gets success early, this could be very interesting.

The trouble with McCline is he’s usually promised more than he’s delivered. He has also tended to fade in long fights, the meaningful ones, and can get discouraged if things aren’t going his way. Not a championship winning trait.

Nikolay Valuev appears to be a dedicated pro, despite the freak status conferred on him. He’s obviously worked hard to improve as a boxer, and he’s done that. His team have concentrated on having him master the basic tools because, even without great natural talent, a man that big has to be hard to beat if he keeps it simple and doesn’t make mistakes.

We can but hope that Jameel McCline puts in an ambitious effort on Saturday. There could be thrills for a few rounds if he really commits to the cause. He could even win. Nobody yet knows how Valuev will respond if he’s put under sustained pressure, and McCline should make it his business to find out.

Realistic expectations? I think Jameel will be positive at first but, unless he hurts the champ or gets some sort of tangible success in the opening round, his confidence may wane quickly. It would then become a messy maul, with a tired and dispirited McCline sitting it out around the tenth. That’s my take. But what do I know.

What I know is this. Muhammad Ali, the dancing master or the rope-a-dopester, would have handled either of those two gentlemen with some ease. That’s not nostalgia ruling the head. Nor is it disrespect to Valuev and McCline. They are both gladiators and honest pros but Ali, 65 years young today, was a boxing genius.

Saturday is an important night for Manchester’s John Murray. He’s due to box on the Junior Witter card at Ally Pally (although no opponent has yet been named) and his performance will be closely scrutinized after what he served up last time out.

At 22, Murray is touted as one of British boxing’s hottest prospects but he only boxed three times in the whole of 2006 and looked none too clever in two of those outings, six rounders against willing but extremely limited Billy Smith.

Last July, Murray failed to impress when stopping Smith in the last round. At the time, Billy had won only three of more than forty fights, but was stubborn and got a few half decent licks in along the way.

The Mancunian had been out of the ring for over six months prior to that bout, so some excuse could be made for his lethargic display. Anybody can suffer from ring rust. And Billy Smith, a light welter come welter, was the naturally bigger man.

Hard to find excuses when they met again, though. Despite having had another contest in between, successfully defending something called the WBC Youth Lightweight Title, John Murray looked lethargic and made heavy weather of taking a points decision. The official scoring had Smith win one round and share another. I thought he captured two rounds, and it wasn’t until the closing session that Murray looked sure to win the fight.

The Manchester boxing scene is buzzing right now and people up there are insistent that John Murray is championship bound. I don’t share that view myself. He can box, and he can certainly box a lot better than he did against Smith, but I think he’s too pedestrian to trouble high calibre opponents. And too predictable.

Maybe that’s harsh. Perhaps the youngster has more scope for improvement than I’m able to see in him. And I do expect he will get better. For me, though, Kevin Mitchell would always be too sharp for Murray, and I’d back Ricky Burns to be a touch too cute for him.

Meanwhile, if Murray is to box on Saturday, let’s hope it’s against someone who can test him and make him produce, make him show what he’s got. Wouldn’t bank on it, though. At such short notice he’s more likely to be fed a bit of target practice. And that, of course, would tell us nothing.

Just when it seemed that the usual political squabbling had been overcome for once and that Enzo Maccarinelli would be defending his WBO cruiserweight title against David Haye in Cardiff, the plug gets pulled.

Promoter Frank Warren says Haye had agreed a five fight package because that’s the only way he would get the purse he wanted for the Maccarinelli bout. The contracts, says Warren, reflected that. Now, though, the promoter claims Haye’s people don’t like the conditions while he himself is not prepared to let Haye challenge the Welshman on a one-off deal.

Whatever the rights and wrongs of the haggling, it’s once again the boxing public who are denied what they want to see. Most fans intending to hit Cardiff in April would rather have seen Maccarinelli v Haye as a stand alone event, with no undercard, than watch the rest of the show without the cruiser battle.

The way boxing is today, I suppose we should have known it would all fall through. And the likelihood is that prospects of Calzaghe v Froch and Hatton v Witter are wishful thinking too. It’s becoming a contact sport where everybody steers clear of each other. Unfortunately for boxing’s well being, there doesn’t seem to be anything that can be done about it.

So Rocky Balboa is still the man. At 60. Does that mean there’s hope yet for juvenile heavies like Larry Donald or Andrew Golota to ascend the throne? Afraid not. Any connection between real life boxing and most of the Hollywood versions is strictly incidental.

Boxing in the movies does have a value, though. Even if the actual fight scenes are over the top, and many of the scripts corny, flicks like the Rocky series can grab those who might not ordinarily be interested and turn them on to the excitement and emotion, and addiction, that is boxing.

Sylvester Stallone met up with some British boxing luminaries at a dinner in London on Friday. Seems Joe Calzaghe and Steve Collins were among those who admitted the pull his films had for them. For his part, Stallone said, “I love these guys – I love fighters. They’re like a metaphor for life.” Well said. And not a script in sight.

A month ago, Audley Harrison did to Danny Williams what he should have done when they first met a year ago. It amounts to a wasted year in the career of a man who doesn’t have time on his side.

Danny used to be a decent fighter, and always a brave one, but hasn’t been the same since that terrible beating from Vitali Klitschko. Harrison could surely have beaten him the first time around with little more than a busy jab and a bit of side to side movement. But Audley froze that night. With fear.

Nothing wrong with being apprehensive going in the ring. Cus D’Amato always said fear is a fighter’s friend. He meant that fear of defeat, fear of failure, makes you alert, keeps you on your mettle. What a fighter doesn’t need to be doing is show the other guy any signs. Harrison did just that. He had alarm on his face, with eyes that couldn’t have been any wider if they’d been propped open with matchsticks.

It was a lousy fight. And not just because of Audley Harrison. Williams produced nothing either. But at least Danny did occasionally try to put some sort of attack together and that was enough to merit a moral victory. I had Audley a round in front, but it was strictly letter of the law marking and I was glad to see Williams get the nod. Harrison’s contribution to the so called contest was so feeble and timid that he didn’t deserve to come away with anything other than a loss.

The tenth round knockdown probably edged it Danny’s way. It was the first moment of excitement in the whole piece. And even that didn’t come from a solid contact, Harrison hitting the deck after fielding what looked like a big right wrist to the top of his head. A grazing shot, no more.

When Danny Williams subsequently decisioned Matt Skelton by another skinny margin after a foul filled abortion of a fight, some seemed to think the Brixton Bomber was on his way back to the world scene. Sad. Williams has since gone on to do the impossible in that particular rematch by making Matt Skelton look like Willie Pep. Dan went in as a 288 pound blubberball and even the ponderous Skelton had no trouble strolling around and popping him with this and that all night long.

Audley Harrison did what he had to do at the Excel Arena, but it was the beating up of a shot fighter. After the fight he predicted world honours for himself this year. Back in the old verbal routine. Audley’s a big man who has genuine skills and hits hard with the straight left. He also has a nasty uppercut in the repertoire. If he does put it all together it should take a top man to get the better of him. But Harrison’s a lazy boxer in my book, and he has the body language of a person who would much rather be doing something else for a living.

Can Audley Harrison, even in peak physical shape, go into a competitive contest against one of the world title claimants and fight at a gallop for half a dozen rounds or more? I would love to say yes, for the sake of British boxing, but I suspect he would run out of gas and unravel. He just gives that impression.

Former heavyweight champ Smokin’ Joe Frazier is 63 today. Tempus really does fugit. Hardly seems a blink since he and Ali hooked up in Madison Square Garden for what was billed simply as The Fight.

Joe’s win that night sealed his place in boxing history. And his trilogy with The Greatest, even though Joe came out of it 2-1 down, gave him boxing immortality.

There was something about Frazier I admired so much. He wasn’t the best heavyweight we’ve ever seen, but Joe was a great fighter nevertheless. That seems to have been forgotten these days. Maybe because he wasn’t champ for long. As with Sonny Liston, Frazier’s acquisition of the undisputed title was the climax of his career rather than the birth of a reign. Joe didn’t become champ and then defend against the top contenders. Like Liston, Frazier did it all in reverse. He bashed up the other top ranked guys on the way because, through no fault of his own, a shot at the undisputed crown was three years delayed. Sonny had been avoided by Floyd Patterson. Joe was denied by Muhammad Ali’s ban from boxing.

Beating Ali in the Garden was Joe Frazier’s greatest achievement. Had to be. But Manila saw his finest hour, even in defeat. The way those two men fought there in that suffocating heat, into the fatigue zone and beyond, never wavering in their will to win, remains a monument to the human spirit. Ali came out on top, but both were winners. So was the sport of boxing.

Fifty years to the very day before Joe Frazier was born, Georges Carpentier came into this world. Carpentier was the Orchid Man, the idol of France – a hell of a fighter who was second best to nobody in the charisma stakes. He had a flashing smile and a flashing right hand and won the lightheavyweight title by going to the States and demolishing Battling Levinsky in four rounds.

Georges fought in every division from fly to heavy during a most remarkable boxing career. And his championship involvement started early. Welterweight champion of Europe at 17, heavyweight champ at 19. Even more amazing, Carpentier twice challenged for the world middleweight title as an 18 year old in scheduled 20 round bouts with Frank Klaus and Billy Papke, and gave both a real hard go of it.

The Orchid Man’s most celebrated moment came when he took on Jack Dempsey in what was boxing’s first million dollar gate event. A crowd of 80,000 paid nearer two million than one, and many had turned up in the hope that Georges would win. The handsome Frenchman had been promoted as a war hero, while Dempsey was portrayed as a guy who had avoided military service, so the atmosphere was not as hostile to the visitor as might otherwise have been expected. Didn’t make any difference though. Jack was too powerful. Carpentier landed his shuddering right in round two and fleetingly had the champion hurt and vulnerable, but that was all. Dempsey put him away in the fourth.

Georges Carpentier did something else that will, surely, never be repeated. When Jack Johnson defended his world title in Paris against Frank Moran, 20 year old Carpentier was the referee and sole judge. Just how astonishing is that!

Here’s a raised glass to Joe and Georges. Two special men. Different eras, same respect.

British boxing is in good health just now. It’s not often the Brits can boast six or seven guys who are genuinely world class but that is the case at the start of 2007.

Enzo Maccarinelli has the WBO title at cruiser and is a big punching improver who has come on bundles in the past year. Thankfully for fans who want to see the best get it on together, boxing politics has not prevented Enzo from being matched in a title defence against David Haye. This fight is a huge attraction and goes ahead at Cardiff in April on the bill headed by Joe Calzaghe.

European champ Haye was a class amateur with a world silver to his name and has now fully adapted to the pro game after a couple of blips early on. I wouldn’t try to pick a winner of this until nearer the date. Both guys have terrific power, plus boxing ability and lots of grit, and whoever prevails will have my vote to unify the belts. That would be really something in a division that’s lacked a dominant force since Evander Holyfield gave them all a clump.

Ricky Hatton and Junior Witter have been bickering for years, but to no avail. Could be they’ll finally square off this year, though, if both come through intact a week on Saturday. Witter defends his WBC light welter crown aginst Arturo Morua in London while, later the same night, Hatton tries to take back the IBF title from raw but dangerous Juan Urango in Vegas.

A year ago I would have leaned towards Witter over Ricky. Junior is a slick counter puncher with heavy hands who excels against guys who move on to him. Now I’m doubtful. Witter grabbed the WBC vacancy by beating DeMarcus Corley but it was a dull affair and my impression was that both men have seen sharper days. Could also be that they just cancelled each other out, style wise. But Junior had also disappointed earlier at York Hall, the legendary East End bear pit, when Colin Lynes held back to counter the counter puncher and in the process rendered Witter largely ineffective. Faced with a man who wouldn’t do what he wanted, Witter’s performance, for a boxer of his class, bordered on the pisspoor. He took the decision but it was nothing to crow about.

Arturo Morua will almost certainly try to bring the fight to Junior Witter so, if Junior is as hot as he says he still is, it should suit him a treat. No such pondering in the case of Hatton and Urango. They are both front foot guys. I don’t expect anybody will be asking for their money back after watching that one. I like Ricky. He’s a people guy. He’s also a terrific fighter who puts his heart and soul on offer, and that might just make the difference if Urango turns out to be a touch more accomplished than what he’s shown so far.

Joe Calzaghe has become the big star of British boxing since the Lacy annihilation. An overnight sensation after all this time. Joe is very, very good. But he always has been. Ironic that the plaudits have come his way at last on the strength of beating a man who was absolutely made for him. Jeff Lacy is a seriously strong individual, and excessively brave, but he’s pretty much a one trick pony in the demanding arena of world class boxing. In his comeback effort against Vitali Tsypko, Lacy barely scraped a majority decision, and that was a hometown fight. With Jeff’s shortcomings again exposed, Calzaghe’s great triumph has been re-evaluated in some quarters, and praise withdrawn. Shouldn’t be the case. Tsypko is a contender and he and Lacy were tooth and nail all the way. Joe Calzaghe beat the hell out of Lacy from first to last. Even in one sided fights, the loser usually has his moments. Jeff Lacy didn’t have any moments against the Welshman. It was a wipeout.

Joe Calzaghe was extra special in that fight. It got him recognition in the States. It put him in line for a super fight. Instead of that he’ll be making a title defence in Wales against Peter Manfredo Jnr, nice guy runner-up from the first series of The Contender. What the hell’s all that about? Calzaghe stepped out into the sunlight but has now gone back behind a cloud. It’s a major mystery.

Carl Froch is waiting in the wings. He’s been calling Joe out for some time, loudly. And it’s a fight that would have terrific appeal wherever it might be staged, Froch being a boxer with world title aspirations and power to match. The Nottingham Cobra is a strange sort of guy, with an arrogant persona that many find it hard to take to, and he’s got a strange sort of style in the ring too. But Carl Froch is a dangerous man. Extremely dangerous. I haven’t yet warmed to the way he presents himself but I do believe he’d have a real chance of beating Joe Calzaghe.

Clinton Woods is IBF light heavy champ and a good solid pro who has got there the hard way. He went to the States to challenge for the WBC crown when Roy Jones was still Roy Jones and got stopped after giving it a good try, then went home and regrouped, and kept the faith until further chances came his way. He drew with Glen Johnson for the vacant IBF crown in 2003. That was a fight he definitely lost in my book. He fought Johnson again for the same bauble in 2004 and lost again, but this time Glen got the decision as well as the win. Undeterred, Woods soldiered on and grabbed the prize eventually when stopping Rico Hoye in five for the yet again vacant IBF title in 2005.

Clinton has defended three times. Last time up it was Glen Johnson in his face again. A good hard struggle for both men. I had it even at the end but leaned to Johnson because the definitive round was the ninth when Woods was out on his feet and seemed sure to go. Had he dropped then, I couldn’t have seen him climbing back up. But he didn’t drop. Clinton rode out the round like a hero, then found the heart and - from somewhere – the strength to press the action through those closing sessions. I felt for Johnson, but was happy for Clinton Woods when his arm was raised. Maybe Clint deserved the nod for surviving a real crisis then putting in that big finish. He certainly proved that he belongs up there in top world company.

Apart from the guys above, British boxing has another potential world star in the shape of Amir Khan. He’s still got his plates on, of course, but he’s learning and adapting and looking like he might well do something special when his time is right. And he’s already done the sport itself a massive favour by attracting a brand new audience through his Olympic endeavours. Khan’s arrival on the professional scene has also been instrumental in ITV’s decision to resume coverage of boxing. To have mass public appeal once more, boxing has to be available to the public at large, not just the satellite equipped minority. It looks like things are moving in the right direction now then, both inside and outside the ring. Happy days are here again? Not yet. But maybe soon.

After getting hooked on boxing as a kid, it wasn’t long before I became fascinated by the legend of Harry Greb. Hard not to, really. In any list of boxing’s true greats, Greb’s name has to feature in the front rank.

When he died on a hospital operating table, aged 32, Harry had logged just shy of 300 career fights, a phenomenal workload given the way he did his fighting.

Greb was all speed and intensity inside a boxing ring. By all accounts he didn’t pay much attention to the rules of the game - unless the referee insisted - but nor was he one for complaining when the naughty stuff was aimed his way. Harry Greb just loved to fight. No quarter asked, none given. He came out punching, ripping them in from every angle, fabled endurance allowing him to apply pressure and never let up. Most of Harry’s opponents must have felt like a drum kit under siege from Keith Moon.

Apart from those who watched him in the flesh, though, nobody has ever seen Greb box. Seems that no film of his fights exists. If such a film does exist, it’s not in circulation. That all adds to the mystique surrounding the man, of course, but it doesn’t stop me feeling deprived of a chance to see for myself what the adulation was all about.

Without visual proof of his prowess you could reasonably entertain the thought that Greb’s talents might have been overstated, but testimony from guys like Gene Tunney and Mickey Walker kicks any such doubt out the window. Tunney had nothing but the highest regard for Greb, who was the only man ever to beat him. That was in the first of their five meetings, and there were plenty who believed Harry beat Gene in their second match too.

Mickey Walker, like Gene Tunney, has been captured on film for posterity, and nobody’s going to question his greatness. He was welter and middleweight champ and came within a split decision of taking the lightheavyweight crown from Tommy Loughran. Mickey also drew with Jack Sharkey in Sharkey’s last fight before he won the heavyweight title. Yes, Walker was a holy terror alright. But he couldn’t beat Harry Greb.

Harry would fight anybody, size notwithstanding. Even Jack Dempsey. Seems they did share a ring in a Dempsey training camp, Greb having been taken on for sparring. Once the bell rang, though, Pittsburgh’s one man boarding party reverted to type and gave Jack a beating until Jack Kearns put a stop to it. I’ll buy that. Half because I really believe it’s likely to have happened that way, half because I want it to be true.

Harry Greb has been dead for 80 years. I will never see him fight and, up until yesterday, had never set eyes on him outside of magazine photos. Now, though, I have seen Harry as a living, moving image, and it was a weird and wonderful sight to behold. You can do the same by going to www.harrygreb.com where they have a precious 8 minutes and 17 seconds of film, broken into 16 quick time clips, of Harry posing and smiling and playing a bit of handball, and facing up to the cameras with Mickey Walker on finalizing their epic match. It’s completely free. Give it a click.

All of a sudden Samuel Peter is boxing’s flavour of the month and, if you listen to the overkill, every other heavyweight’s nightmare. His wide margin win over James Toney was a worthy effort, and better than anything we’ve seen from him so far, but let’s not get carried away.

Peter said he had a great camp in prep for Toney. Seems that was true. Big Sam was eight pounds lighter than last time, and looked it. He was sharper, fought smarter, and showed variety in his work. And he hurt the veteran plenty of times in the fight, aside from decking him with a thumping jab. It was a surprisingly dominant performance against a man who had been his equal less than four months ago. At 26, Sam Peter is already a decent fighter who can and should get better still. But I don’t think he’s destined to be anything special. He doesn’t move well enough.

James Toney is the right shape and size to have brought out the best in the Nigerian. And James is on the slide, although he’d never admit it. Like Peter, Toney had claimed a great training camp. They’d even brought in a nutritionist. The scales didn’t suggest that move had brought any particular benefits, though. James must have been giving whatever foods were on his nutritionist’s approved healthy-eating list one hell of a seeing to, volume wise, for him to weigh in at 234, one pound more roly poly than he’d been back in September.

These two guys are too slow or too fat to move about much, so what we got was a gritty fight with plenty of leather thrown and caught. Toney did most of the catching, but didn’t waver, and was spitting defiance all the way. You wouldn’t expect anything less from a guy who’s been a great one in his time. But that greatness was a long time ago and didn’t come at heavyweight, so, although Peter overwhelmed Toney on the cards and surely eliminated him as a genuine contender, the conditions of the match don’t convince me that the winner has jumped a couple of levels in ability.

Would we see any significant improvement if Samuel Peter got a rematch with Wladimir Klitschko? I seriously doubt it. Peter dropped him three times in their last go and, on the face of it, a stronger showing would put him in with a real chance should they meet again. It would be easy to think that way, but those knockdowns were just about the only success Sam enjoyed in the whole bout. The rest of the time he was gobbling up jabs and right handers, and his quicksand footwork could never get him into range to unload his best stuff. He was just so slow. Slow? Watching Samuel Peter’s contribution to any part of that Klitschko fight, on tape, is not a lot different to looking at a photograph.

I’m not denigrating Sam Peter. The guy can fight. He’s strong and can bang, and he’s got heart alright. A bomb from Klitschko staggered him badly in the last round of their clash, and Peter looked sure to fall, but didn’t. He kept himself upright and gutsed his way through to the bell, still trying to edge forward. That said plenty, and must have answered a few questions inside his own head as well. You never know for sure that you can survive a crisis until you’ve done it. On top of everything else, this is a man whose confidence is now soaring, a man who really believes he’s going to be the champ.

What I really believe is that lack of quickness is a fatal flaw when it comes to the sport of boxing. Put Samuel Peter in the ring with a proper sized heavyweight who has reach on him, decent ability, and can show him some zig and zag, and I say a guy like that would pose problems the Nigerian couldn’t solve.

I have to admit that, out of curiosity, I've watched action from the U.F.C. and my full respect goes to guys like Chuck Liddell and Matt Hughes. They are tough, dedicated men who live the tunnel visioned life that's a must for any kind of pro fighter with ambitions to be the best he can. I admire all those octagon battlers, as individuals. But the mixed martial arts caper itself is not something I could develop a taste for.

Boxing can be brutal. Sometimes, when a tragedy occurs, it's hard to justify its existence. But men will always fight. That's the way of things. And a fair fight will always mean two guys duking it out. At its best, boxing can have a nobility about it. The Thriller in Manila. The first Corrales v Castillo clash. You'd need a heart of stone to watch that sort of stuff without being truly moved.

I don't see anything like that in mixed martial arts. I don't see how something that embraces kicks, knees, and elbows can constitute a sport. They might as well be tooled up and go at it with bats or hammers.

Welcome to the wonderful world of boxing, the King of sports. Here you will find observations on all aspects of boxing, past and present. We will be looking at upcoming match-ups, tripping down memory lane, and maybe stirring some controversy here and there. What we won't be doing is stooping to political correctness, or walking on eggshells. This is a straight-talking zone. If things need saying, they'll get said. One reassurance, though. No views on this site will show disrespect to the fighters themselves. When they're up there in that ring, boxers are special people. All of them.