Small hall boxing has become all too predictable

I DON’T have Extra Sensory Perception and I can’t predict the lottery numbers. But when one of our reporters omitted the scores from a six-rounder and a four-rounder on a small hall show last week (and wasn’t contactable before our deadline), I added 60-54 and 40-36 to the report without a tremor of doubt. After the magazine had gone to press, those same scores arrived in my inbox and herein lies a significant problem in British boxing.

So many small hall shows, particularly north of Watford, it seems, play host to matchmaking so risk adverse, so bland, so cynical, that even the choreographed WWE feels like authentic sport in comparison.

Every week in boxing’s high season, I will trawl through the week’s domestic reports and the same numbers pop up again and again – 40-36, 60-54, ad infinitum. Maybe these are the lottery numbers we are seeking after all?

In this hamster wheel of reports, the same 30 or so journeymen regularly appear, spoiling, hugging and mauling, hoping to avoid a cut or stoppage so that they might earn another payday shortly afterwards. Their extensive records carry limited (sometimes one or two) stoppage victories; essentially, they pose no threat to the house (only to themselves and their long-term health).

In the first handful of fights, this can be considered acceptable as a young novice grapples with the physical rigours of the pro game. But there is something unedifying about a near 10-0 fighter on the small hall circuit feasting on fighters with losing records. It’s record padding that we don’t see to this extent in other countries, and the first time these fighters step up they are likely to crumble without the foundation of a more competitive background. 

LONDON – MARCH 8: A Oxford boxer greets the crowd during the 100th Varsity boxing match between Oxford University and Cambridge University at York Hall in Bethnal Green on March 8 2007 in London, England. The best of nine Blues bouts from featherweight to heavyweight was eventually won by Oxford. (Photo by Matt Cardy/Getty Images)

Better fights cost more, yes, but this is why quality and production values are the backbone of any form of entertainment.

One argument for this 40-36 epidemic would be that the ticket sellers’ fans are just happy to see their guy win and built into a title fight for a minor belt. But I am sure the rest of those in attendance would prefer to see a competitive fight. If you enjoy watching two men in shorts hug for 12-18 minutes, this is available in the comfort of your own home via Google.

Many people love the thrill of a competitive skirmish at any level. Even when a fight breaks out in a car park or a playground, people have a tendency to naturally crowd around to witness a raw battle of wills and physicality. But you are unlikely to hear a bystander shout, “My mate is doing so well to cope with all that hugging.” Or “I saw that guy last week hugging inside Aldi, he’s an awkward customer.”

What other sporting event would you possibly attend where the outcome is almost 100 per guaranteed? There is a sense of a historical inertia here where the, ‘it’s always been done this way’ culture has led to an uninspiring and bleak outlook. This has led to a point where many matchmakers and promoters feel it is acceptable to stage, let’s be honest, crap fights. As a boxing aficionado, I have zero interest in watching these shows and sometimes I think our small hall stalwart Andy Whittle deserves a purple heart for some of the dross he has witnessed in boxing’s backwaters. There are rumours he has 40-36 tattooed across his back to commemorate the pain.

British boxing’s ecosystem would be better served by one 1-0 fighter meeting another 1-0 fighter. Emerging boxers would learn more and attending fans would be entertained and drawn to future spectacles. It’s a sport of brave men and women, matchmakers less so.

It’s that sense of the unexpected that makes sport so thrilling. Even a minnow in a FA Cup tie has a slight chance of upsetting a Premier League giant with home advantage. In small hall boxing, precious few chances are taken and that leads all the way up to more major promoters – except the more able, blue-chip fighters generally carry the firepower to end a six-rounder before the inevitable 60-54 scorecard.

Boxing News has traditionally been a paper of record and that’s why we carry these small hall reports with ringside coverage, with weights or extra information you might not find tucked away on Boxrec. But a number of Boxing News readers tell me that they just flick through these pages because it is essentially the same outcome and names being recycled every week. 

Yet flick to the amateur section of this publication and you will regularly read about competitive, well-matched fights at all levels from club shows right up to major tournaments. This pure, sporting element is sadly lost on an increasingly cynical and myopic small hall circuit, bereft of imagination. Rinse and repeat.

In days gone by, small hall fights were more competitive. Even in the era of Nobby Nobbs’ Losers Limited stable, where the capable Peter Buckley would accidentally hurt a prospect and hold up a wheezing novice to preserve next week’s payday. “You all right, mate?” Peter would whisper in a clinch before shooting a wink at ringside. 

That fine British tradition of ‘Nobbins’ – where an enthusiastic and engaged crowd would throw money into the ring after a small hall classic – is now, sadly, long gone. They would be keeping their change in their pocket today. 

I’d love to see the culture of Nobbins return though there would need to be a contactless pay option on the ring posts. There would also need to be better fights.