Boxing: Watson's smile lights up night of nostalgia

It was odd being back at the Grosvenor House in London last night for the inaugural Michael Watson testimonial because, less than 24 hours after his fateful fight against Chris Eubank in 1991, I attended the farcical Muhammad Ali testimonial at the same venue.

Ali never showed on that disastrous night and his enormous absence only added to the surreal theme of an evening that dragged on depressingly slowly because of the uncertain state of Watson's life.

At about the same time as the expectant diners were being served their prawn cocktails, Watson was being rushed back into surgery for a second operation to remove a blood clot from the surface of his brain.

Last night was not such a depressing event and it was helped by the fact that the main attraction was actually in attendance. Since Watson first started emerging from the dark years of his constant rehabilitation, he has never stopped smiling. Last night he said: "I'm blessed, I truly believe I am blessed." It is no surprise that Watson occasionally takes to the pulpit at the Evering Pentecostal Church in Tottenham to deliver a fiery sermon.

It is anticipated that Watson will make as much as £200,000 from the long-overdue testimonial in his honour. A total of 105 tables were sold and an auction, which included one of David Beckham's World Cup shirts, should add considerably to the total.

"I think we should do the whole thing again next year," said Frank Warren, the promoter who brokered the deal between Watson's lawyers and the British Boxing Board of Control's legal advisers. In 1999, Watson successfully sued the board for negligence and the testimonial formed part of his settlement.

If Warren or another promoter can run with the testimonial night next year they will have to select another stricken British boxer from the 10 who have undergone the same emergency treatment as Watson during the last 13 years.

One contender could be the former European champion Spencer Oliver, who lost his title and required emergency surgery in 1998. Oliver made a remarkable recovery because of new safety measures that were introduced, in part, as a reaction to Watson's defeat against Eubank.

Last night, Eubank and Oliver were not the only survivors of traumatic nights in the ring to cast occasional glances at Watson. There were others in the grand room who just could not resist taking a look at the boxer who became far more famous once he was in a coma than he had ever been when he was fighting fit.

"I know that I am here now because of what Michael and other boxers have suffered and I will never forget that," said Oliver, who now works as a television pundit.

There were a lot of boxers gathered to watch Junior Witter stop Ghana's Laatekwei Hammond to win the Commonwealth light-welterweight title, but it was not a night for live sporting action. It was a night for nostalgia, a night to remember a fight that truly did grip the nation when it took place.

Eubank has probably been asked thousands and thousands of times about the night his fist so nearly killed Watson, but he is now superb at answering all queries. He has time for everybody. "Michael is an extraordinary individual and I am proud to have met him," he said. It is likely that he said this or something similar hundreds of times last night.

There were some in the fight business who believed the testimonial would be an uninvited reminder of what can go wrong in the ring. They were wrong. It was not exactly a fun night out, but it meant a lot to an injured boxer.