For the first century of boxing’s rule as the dirtiest yet most glamorous branch of the sports entertainment industry, the undisputed heavyweight champion was the king of sport – from Jack Dempsey, then Joe Louis, Rocky Marciano and Muhammad Ali through to Mike Tyson.
While it is not a crown that has balanced easily on the head of any champion since the reign of Lennox Lewis at the turn of the millennium – mainly because the Klitschko brothers then split the kingdom – Anthony Joshua is building a case that might soon become irresistible for one man to rule alone again.
Eddie Hearn’s assertion that his champion is destined to become one of the biggest names in sport invariably has invited cynical chuckles among writers and commentators, given boxing’s struggle to regain its old supremacy in an era of digital distractions and football mania.
However, the handsome young millionaire from Watford – who aims to add to his growing collection of honours in his third consecutive stadium fight on Saturday night – is not laughing. He wants it all and his supporters, in their rapidly expanding thousands, want it for him too.
Joshua is a modern sporting phenomenon, a cash cow on a huge scale whose ultimate fortune could elevate him to stand comparison with Andy Murray, Lewis Hamilton, Rory McIlroy and even some of Britain’s overpaid footballers.
At the Principality Stadium in Cardiff on Saturday night it is estimated that Joshua’s unification fight for three of the four recognised titles against the unbeaten and undemonstrative New Zealander Joseph Parker will attract close to 80,000 fans – with Sky hoping good numbers will also pay for the privilege at home.
Henry Cooper cemented his place in the affections of the UK in two fights in the 1960s that have grown in the memory to the point where myth and reality will collide forever. Against Cassius Clay at Wembley Stadium in 1963, and then for his title at Highbury in 1966 when the great man had morphed into Muhammad Ali, Cooper persuaded 35,000 and then 46,000 fans to cheer on his doomed assignments.
There are quantifiable metrics to measure the drawing power of the three biggest names in British heavyweight boxing since Cooper. Frank Bruno and Lewis convinced the British public they were worthy of their unqualified support as athletes and individuals but none posted the numbers that Joshua is doing now. He just about matched Cooper’s memorable double in one night at Wembley last year, when he got off the floor to knock Wladimir Klitschko into retirement after a decade as the world’s best heavyweight. When the estimable but little-known Carlos Takam stepped in at short notice to challenge Joshua at the Principality Stadium six months later the gate touched 78,000.
When Bruno challenged Lewis for his world heavyweight title at the National Stadium in Cardiff on a miserably wet night in 1993 both were near the peak of their celebrity but they drew only 25,000 fans, partly because it was live on terrestrial television. What is it, then, about Joshua?
As Hearn said again recently, “AJ hasn’t changed one bit. He can’t go out much but he is the same person as when I first met him years ago. That’s pretty amazing.” In all his dealings with the media, Joshua is never less than polite and accommodating, however busy. He asks questions and is genuinely interested in the answers. He does not give ill-considered replies, and corrects misinterpretations. He remembers names and faces and, if he has ever turned down an autograph, he must have been in a terrible hurry. As with Parker, family matters hugely to him. Throughout his rise he has lived at home with his mother, Yeta, in north London (as well as buying property abroad) and respects the traditions and beliefs of their Nigerian heritage.
As for his oft-mentioned legacy, he asks rhetorically, “Do people remember Lennox and [Evander]Holyfield’s fight [which unified the titles]? All the people watching this fight now? I think it is what it is – and then people will forget about it in another 20 years. Scrap all that. I’ve fought in the Boston Arms [a north London pub venue] in front of 100 people and I’ve fought in front of 100,000 people.
“It’s about self. I’ve always said it’s not about the belts, even though they are great. Even Mike Tyson said, ‘What are these? They don’t mean nothing any more.’ I’m not doing it for them. It’s about where can I take myself? Because, if it’s for the belts, certain people have won them and then derailed because they set out to become heavyweight champion of the world; they did it and then there was nothing because that’s all they set out to do.
“I’m challenging myself. The unifications and undisputed [recognition]are just titles on the shelf. This is an everlasting battle and bigger than any unification.”
So, does he want to emulate Tyson as “the baddest man on the planet”?
Joshua laughs and replies: “No, no. I want to be the smartest fighter on the planet. Look at [unbeaten and semi-retired Floyd] Mayweather: he’s not so much the baddest, he’s known as the smartest – wise, knows his way around the ring. He’s got a boxing IQ.”
Yet, for all his pay-per-view records, Mayweather never had what Joshua already has established: empathy with his fans. His is a new audience. Not all are hardcore boxing people. Many come for the occasion, to be witnesses to something memorable. It was much the same for Dempsey, Louis, Marciano, Ali and Tyson. They transcended their sport.
“When you watch the evolution of my career,” Joshua says, “I detach myself from it and just focus on me. I don’t get caught up in the evolution of my career. It’s just business. I worry about myself, and challenge myself.
“I don’t get caught up in anything. Do you see me out anywhere? Do you hear anything [bad]about me? You don’t hear anything like that. But do I deal with people differently? Yeah. My time is limited. I’ve got goals now. Everything has been a rush. The amateurs was rushed, pros has been quick. I thought, woah, this is great. But now this is it. This is focused.”
He has some way to go yet. He is a young 28 and might box into his mid-30s. There are plenty of opportunities for mishap. All but Marciano of the above quintet of 20th-century greats were punished for going on too long. But, as Joshua said in a quiet moment before he dethroned Klitschko, “The difference is, champions get up. I’ll get up. Always.”
(Guardian service)
