by John Wight: The outpouring of condemnation that has been directed at David Haye following his points defeat by Wladmir Klitschko in their heavyweight unification title fight at the Imtech Arena in Hamburg, Germany at the weekend is, on one level, only to be expected after the Londoner’s tireless braggadocio when it came to talking himself up and the naked disrespect he’d demonstrated towards his opponent over the preceding two years before they finally met in the ring. The insults directed at his opponent throughout the build up transcended hype and dragged proceedings down to the level of the gutter, which even for the hardest and most primitive sport of them all was unfortunate to say the least.
However, the resulting expectation saw pay-per-view sales for the fight go through the roof as people anticipated at long last a heavyweight contest that promised to restore some credibility to a division that had become an embarrassment to the sport, especially when compared to the halcyon days of yesteryear.
Haye came to the fight a much fancied underdog, possessing it was felt by fans and pundits alike the power and speed to pose a genuine threat to his 6’6” opponent, one half of a boxing duo whose stranglehold over the division has seen its centre of gravity shift from the United States to Europe. Once regarded as the possession as if by right of American sports, heavyweight boxing has been relegated to the status of marginal sport in it former home, with the legendary names of its great American proponents – Joe Louis, Mohammad Ali, Joe Frazier, George Foreman, Larry Holmes, Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield – having increasingly taken on a mournful aspect with the passage of its decline.
Britain’s David Haye arrived in Germany promising to “save the sport” by knocking out a man who for him and its purists had removed the explosion and excitement with which the heavyweights used to be associated. Both Klitschko brothers, utilising their extraordinary physical advantages in height and size over opponents who in the main have consisted of a hapless procession of men who’ve arrived to fight in the kind of physical condition that speaks of type 2 diabetes rather than conditioned athlete, have dominated the sport without ever setting it on fire. A long, punishing jab punctuated by an irregular straight right and nifty enough footwork to maintain a safe distance has been the key to their success, which in truth for those who appreciate the latter half of the noble art’s objective, which is to ‘hit without getting hit’, had sufficed to make them worthy and deserving champions.
That David Haye was giving away over three inches in height and two stones in weight to the younger of the two Ukrainian giants was neither here nor there to the huge British contingent who’d traveled to Germany to support him. They’d been convinced by Haye’s pronouncements that Wladimir Klitschko was there for the taking and that he was the main to get the job done.
But just as unrealistic expectations blinded them to reality going into the fight, overreaction in their disappointment has clouded objectivity in the aftermath.
David Haye’s performance was not the complete disaster that has been described. His ability to slip and roll under Klitschko’s jab for most of the fight was complemented by irregular looping right hands and jabs of his own which, in terms of speed and mobility, were a reminder that he brings more than hype to proceedings. The one thing lacking was either the desire or ability to close the distance when he did slip or roll under his opponent’s jab, and anywhere near enough aggression and intent. Instead of doubling up on his punches and using his feet to close the gap at the same time, Haye remained on the outside tiring himself out with lateral movement as he sought to avoid the bigger man’s jab. It was tactic punctuated with the single looping right hand, which apart from on a couple of occasions was thrown from too far away to make it much more than a punch thrown in hope. Klitschko meanwhile was content to walk him down while pumping out the jab to keep him at bay, using his feet to change the distance whenever Haye came forward.
Against a fighter of Wladimir Klitschko’s height and mobility, not to mention his own lack of willingness to take risks, the Haye camp’s strategy was clearly never going to be sufficient enough to win, even though it did enable him to go the full twelve rounds and allow him to emerge at the end practically unscathed.
In the aftermath, in citing a broken toe as the reason why he couldn’t throw more right hands during the fight, David Haye may well be telling the truth. But the problem he’s got after engaging in so much pre-fight bombast is that many of the fans and pundits who’ve followed his career have been left feeling mugged one too many times. The Audley Harrison debacle was as unedifying as it was an insult to the all those who parted with their hard earned to watch, and prior to that the Valuev fight hadn’t exactly been a thrilling spectacle either.
As good a fighter as David Haye undoubtedly is, he and his manager and trainer, Adam Booth, have by this point made it obvious that to them boxing is a business and nothing more. This has resulted in an approach where the emphasis has been on taking out of the game far more than they give back. It is cynicism taken to the extreme, which though it might leave them very rich men also leaves the sport all the poorer for their involvement in it.
Yes, boxing is a brutal sport in which too many fighters, even champions, retire physically and emotionally broken men with nothing much in the way of reward to show for years of hard slog and the risks taken in the ring. And, yes, you can’t eat a legacy. Nor does one put a roof over your head or put fuel in the car. But by the same token, greatness in life is never measured by how much money you have in the bank or how many Ferraris are parked in the driveway. Greatness on the contrary is measured by the imprint you leave on people’s memories and by what extent you’ve been able to inspire and tap into their own visceral desire for glory, offering them an escape for howsoever long from the comparative drudgery and lack of excitement in their own lives. To be able to do this is a privilege more precious than any amount of Ferraris or Rolexes you are able to acquire.
David Haye and Adam Booth should take note: “to win without risk is to triumph without glory.”