11. In Defence of the Noble Art

Written August 2025

Merthyr Tydfil in South Wales is a not particularly big town, with a population of 44000. But in its town centre, there are three statues of famous boxers. So why has that decidedly average town, over the years, produced far more than its fair share of boxers?
The answer is simple, if you consider what used to be the town’s main industry… There is a long tradition of boxers coming from mining towns, as they turned to it as a far less dangerous way to make a living than working in a coal mine!
As a lifelong fan of the “Noble Art” of boxing – I’ve been to hundreds of events throughout the UK, from small hall ones in local leisure centres to those which filled football stadia, and once travelled to see a major fight in Las Vegas – this is one of the points I like to make to people who moan about it being dangerous.
Having said that, it’s somewhat ironic that one of those statues honours a boxer who was killed – but then, how many men have died in coal mines? Hundreds have been killed in accidents, and countless thousands have died prematurely and painfully from horrible lung diseases.
Of course, boxing isn’t everyone’s cup of tea! It appeals only to a small minority – especially since it ceased to be shown on mainstream TV – though in recent years, a handful of major world championship fights have attracted crowds of up to 90000 in Wembley Stadium, as well as millions of TV viewers. But unlike other sports, or most other fields of interest, it raises unparalleled degrees of animosity between its supporters and its detractors!
There are many who believe that the sport is “barbaric”, or some such sentiment. While they are of course entitled to their opinion, many adopt the bigoted attitude that because they don’t like it, no-one else is allowed to! I’ve had a couple of work colleagues in the past, who personally vilified me, and treated me like something they had scraped off their shoes, because I like boxing! It’s due to that kind of bigotry that I feel I have to be outspoken in defence of it!
Of course boxing is dangerous – though thankfully, far less so now than in earlier times, due to vastly improved medical supervision and safety procedures. Occasionally, people suffer serious and life-changing injuries, and very occasionally, people die. But the same applies in many other sports; there are some, such as motor racing and mountaineering, in which the probability of any individual being killed or seriously injured is probably considerably higher. Being kicked in the head with a studded rugby boot is more likely to cause serious harm than being punched with a padded glove. And how about being hit by a lump of solid wood travelling at sixty miles per hour – in the days before cricketers started wearing helmets!
The difference, of course, is that while deaths and injuries in those other sports are accidents, boxing – in the eyes of the haters – consists of two people actually trying to inflict harm on each other. The result is that emotion triumphs over logic.
Some of the haters will vehemently deny that boxing even is a sport, and claim that it’s “legalised violence” or some such. At the same time, some of those same people, particularly of the upper classes, will defend the so-called “sport of kings”, horse racing. While that sport occasionally claims the lives of both humans and – far more often – horses, the former are at least willing participants. The poor horses have no choice in the matter!
Of course, there have always been those who campaign to ban boxing, in the ultimate case of trying to impose their own views onto others. The most notable was one Baroness Summerskill in the 1960s, who was both a doctor and a Member of Parliament. She was once interviewed on TV, together with the then British heavyweight champion, Henry Cooper – who wasn’t exactly renowned as a handsome chap.
“Have you seen your face in a mirror recently, Mr. Cooper?” asked the Baroness.
Henry’s Churchillian response is part of boxing folklore: “Well, boxing is my excuse, ma’am. What’s yours?”
Humour aside, the Baroness’ criticisms on medical grounds were, and still are, perfectly valid. To quote a respected boxing writer, the late Fred Snelling:

“Yes, too many punches around the cranium will eventually scramble your brains. But you only have to lose your footing just once on the side of the Eiger to scramble them much more quickly and far, far more effectively.”

Furthermore, as Snelling also pointed out, road workers who operate pneumatic drills for hours every day are far more likely to end up with brain damage than boxers – and again, many young men have turned from that profession to boxing as a safer alternative.
But the problem with the Baroness and her latter day ”disciples” is that they seem to think boxers are all too stupid to know the risks of their sport! Of course they do! As with any dangerous sport, no-one forces them to do it! Every boxer is well aware of the risk, and accepts it.
There has always been a common and ridiculous misconception that boxers are all stupid and brainless. While there may be some who match that description, there are also many who are anything but. A century ago, world heavyweight champion Gene Tunney was something of an intellectual, who quoted Shakespeare and enjoyed the company of famous writers such as Ernest Hemingway ( who had himself been a boxer ). In more recent times, there have been many boxers with degrees, including another world heavyweight champion in the 1980s, James “Bonecrusher” Smith. ( A daft nickname, I know – but his actual name is as forgettable as was his very short reign as champion! ) Wales’ aptly-named Nathan Cleverly, who was world light-heavyweight champion a few years ago, began his professional career while studying for a maths degree. ( I could never understand why he didn’t get more coverage in the press than he did, as corny headlines were just waiting to be written! )
The Klitschko brothers, who both held versions of the world heavyweight title for over a decade, both have PhDs in sports science. And another Welshman, Nicky Piper, who was a Commonwealth champion in the 1990s, is a member of Mensa!
Similarly, many have an equally ridiculous misconception that boxers are all “violent thugs”, or some such description. This is utter rubbish! While there have been a handful of exceptions, the vast majority of boxers, even those with formidable and intimidating reputations in the ring, are thoroughly decent, respectable and gentle people outside it.
However, there are, and always have been, many, many boxers who in their youth were teenage thugs or juvenile delinquents, were caught and got into trouble - and in many cases, went to prison or young offenders’ institutions – and then decided they wanted to go straight and make something of their lives. And boxing was exactly what helped them to do just that! The reason for that is quite simple; apart from channelling their aggression into a sport instead of into street fighting or crime, to get anywhere in boxing requires a considerable degree of self-discipline – exactly what is also needed for an offender to turn his life around and become a decent human being. A few eminent champions have openly acknowledged that, had it not been for boxing, they would probably be either in jail or dead!
As well as those saved from a life of crime, boxing has also enabled many others, from deprived neighbourhoods in countries with little or no welfare system, to escape from poverty and make a decent living – and in some cases, to earn money of which they could otherwise never have dreamed. Some years ago, an American boxer, who became a world champion and very wealthy, said that as a teenager, he had swept the car park of a Burger King for kitchen scraps!
In 1947, a boxer named Jimmy Doyle died after being knocked out by the great Sugar Ray Robinson. ( The post mortem revealed that he had in fact sustained a brain injury in his previous fight, so he should never have been allowed to fight again – but that had somehow been missed by doctors! ) At the subsequent inquest, Robinson was asked, “Did you intend to hurt the deceased?”
“That, sir,” he replied, “Is what I’m paid to do.”
That was simply a rather awkward, spur of the moment response to a frankly stupid question, by a man put on the spot – but it has been quoted ever since by the anti-boxing lobby, as supposed “proof” that boxers are intent on inflicting injury on each other.
Again, nothing could be further from the truth! No boxer ever actually wants to inflict serious harm on his or her opponent; on the contrary, they will often do all in their power to avoid doing so.
In fact, on the day of that tragic fight, Robinson had pleaded with the promoter to cancel it! He claimed, for the rest of his life, to have had a dream or “premonition” the previous night about Doyle’s death. I don’t believe that such a thing is possible, but there must be a rational explanation. Perhaps he saw Doyle in training, thought that something didn’t seem right, and became worried that Doyle might be seriously hurt. Then in his remorse after the tragedy, he deluded himself that he had actually “foreseen” it.
The late, great Arthur Mercante, perhaps the best boxing referee who ever lived, said that “giving the fans their money’s worth” must always come a very poor second to the contestants’ safety. The primary job of a referee is to protect the boxers; if one appears to be in imminent danger of being seriously hurt, then the referee stops the contest. But occasionally, they are too slow to do so. A famous case involved Larry Holmes, then world heavyweight champion, in 1980. His opponent was backed up against the ropes, taking a barrage of punches and throwing none in return; he was clearly in no position to defend himself, but for some reason, the referee dithered and didn’t intervene when he should have done. Holmes suddenly stopped punching, rounded on the referee and shouted furiously, “What do I have to do – kill him?” Then the referee got the message and stopped the fight!
I’ve seen a couple of other such cases in more recent times, when the boxer giving a beating implored the referee to step in and rescue his opponent.
There is also no denying that there have been many cases of “grudge matches”, when two boxers, for whatever reason, entered the ring with genuine personal animosity between them. But in almost every such case, the moment the fight ends, the animosity gives way to mutual respect – the harder the fight, the greater the respect – and often to a lasting friendship.
Thankfully, I’ve never personally been present at any fight in which a boxer has died. I have, however, been at four in which boxers suffered brain injuries – including two very high-profile ones, in the days when boxing was shown on mainstream TV.
The first of those was in 1991, when Michael Watson suffered terrible life-changing injuries after being knocked down by Chris Eubank in the last round of their world title fight. What happened to Watson was in fact an incredibly unlikely occurrence; it wasn’t the punch which caused his injury, but the way in which he fell. The back of his neck hit the bottom rope, jerking his head backwards in a similar manner to the whiplash injuries commonly suffered in car crashes, and that resulted in a blood clot in his brain. Had he been further away from the ropes when the punch landed, he would simply have fallen flat on his back; had he been closer to the ropes, he would have fallen with his back against them, and again not suffered the same consequences. The fact that it happened in the last round of a hard, exhausting fight was also a factor; had it happened earlier, his neck muscles might have been able to resist the whiplash.
( It’s obvious that the longer a fight lasts, and the more exhausted the boxers are, the more vulnerable they are to injury. That’s why, forty years ago, the length of championship fights was reduced from 15 rounds to 12. )
Despite the terrible consequences for Michael, there was a positive outcome overall. It was later determined that his injury was exacerbated by the delay in getting him medical treatment; it took eight minutes for an ambulance to reach the stadium, during which time his brain was being starved of oxygen.
As a consequence, the British Boxing Board of Control drastically revised its safety procedures, with the result that they are now by far the most stringent in the world. The effect of a blood clot in the brain is to restrict the supply of oxygen, which very quickly causes permanent damage – so the most important immediate first aid measure is to get the patient breathing pure oxygen, to maximise the oxygen reaching his brain. The more quickly this is done, the greater his chances of recovery.
So ever since then, at every boxing event in the UK, an ambulance is on standby at the venue – often two at major arena events – with the paramedic crew stationed at ringside, so that in the event of an injury, they can be in the ring and giving treatment within seconds. No fight ever takes place without the paramedics in position; if a boxer has to be taken to hospital, then the next fight can’t start until they return.
Another uniquely British rule is that every boxer who loses a fight by knockout or stoppage is taken to hospital overnight as a routine precaution, and is then not allowed to fight again for 28 days. ( There are many “journeyman” boxers, who fight at the lowest levels and for very modest earnings, who routinely fight every other week, except when prevented from doing so by that rule. )
On the mercifully rare occasions when the worst case occurs, it gives ammunition to the “ban boxing” brigade, and it becomes somewhat harder for us fans to defend. But I’ll end with two true stories.
In 1995, two Scottish boxers, Drew Docherty and James Murray, fought for the British bantamweight championship. Docherty won on points, but soon after the fight ended, Murray collapsed and later died.
Whenever a boxer dies, the opponent is obviously devastated, and often decides to quit the sport. In this case, it was especially awful for Docherty, as he and Murray had been close friends. They had grown up in the same neighbourhood in Glasgow, been friends since school, and knew each other’s families socially. But amazingly, it was Murray’s parents, as he sat in tears in their house, who persuaded him not to quit! They said that that wasn’t what James would have wanted; he had known and accepted the risk, and died doing what he loved.
His mother told Docherty, “It could just as easily have been the other way around, with him crying in your mother’s house!”, and told him he would still always be welcome in their home.
The second story concerns one of those boxers commemorated in Merthyr Tydfil – another bantamweight named Johnny Owen. In 1980, he travelled to the US to challenge for the world title against a well-known Mexican, Lupe Pintor. He was badly knocked out, and later died in hospital.
The post mortem revealed that Owen had had a very rare genetic condition, whereby his skull was considerably thinner than normal, such that his brain was less protected. Had the kind of scans existed back then which are routinely used now, that would have been found, and he would never have been allowed to box – but they didn’t, so there was no way of knowing until it was far too late.
So Johnny had been pretty well doomed, whatever he had chosen to do! Had he played rugby, he would probably have been killed by a bump to the head which would be harmless to anyone else. Had he been a miner, ditto. Or he could easily have been killed by falling off his bike as a child!
For years after Johnny’s death, his family and friends petitioned the local council to honour him with a statue – after all, the town had already done so for two of its boxing sons – but for some reason, the council kept refusing. They persevered and tried again after every election and change of council, until after 23 years, the council finally agreed, and a statue was commissioned.
When it was ready, an unveiling ceremony was held, followed by a memorial service in the town’s main church. And guess who was invited, with all expenses paid, as guest of honour… Lupe Pintor. That was at the request of Johnny’s family; they wanted to show him that no-one blamed him or had any ill feeling towards him.
And with that, I rest my case for the defence.

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