Boxing: Youngsters hold court in the Majestic Suite
Eleven-year-olds eager to take their chance in the ring as amateur circuit continues to be the sport's lifeblood
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.It was a normal night in the Richmond Tavern just outside Rotherham. The karaoke machine was on at full blast in one bar and in the Majestic Suite a few hundred people waited patiently in line for their turn at the buffet and a pork bap with all the trimmings.
Behind the main bar about 60 young boxers had taken over the games room for the Unity end of season show and their clothes and boots and bandages were spread all over the floor and pool tables. The room was thick with smoke and the men in charge of the boxers, some of whom were as young as 11, were standing at a table negotiating the fights that would keep the people in the buffet line happy when the boxing started.
The men at the table were making matches for their boxers. It is a bizarre ritual and one that is so far removed from the neon glamour of the professional ring that when most people see it for the first time they are struck by its similarity with the trade in cattle.
"He's 42 kilos, born '90, had six, won two. He's not strong, moves a bit," one man will say. Another will ponder the statistics and try his best to get his boy the edge. It could be a few months in age, or a few bouts or a just a couple of pounds in weight. At the table the man in charge of the boxing, the Official in Charge or OIC for short, will sit behind a thick layer of smoke and consider all the offers. His nod is required for a match to take place. It is an old-fashioned trading school and shows like this take place most nights up and down the country during the season.
"Where would the sport be without this?" asked Brendan Ingle, a veteran of thousands of nights in venues like this. "Look at the kids. They are all eager to get on. Some will cry when they find out they are not boxing. They have their mum and dads and sisters and brothers in the audience and they want to fight." In the games room the boxers sat and waited for news from the table. They had their boots laced halfway up in preparation for a quick turnaround. Some walked in and out to the bar to sit occasionally with their parents. Not everybody can pay the full price for the buffet and a seat. Some mums and dads would try and get in later once they knew their son was definitely boxing. Even at £15, including the food, the tickets can be too much for most families. A lot of amateur boxing clubs sell tickets for a fiver.
One side of the one-sheet programme featured boxers from the Unity club, which is the gym that Ingle formed in Wincobank on the outskirts of Sheffield more than 30 years ago. Ingle was disgracefully evicted from the amateur side of the sport at the end of the Seventies for having professionals training next to amateurs. He has never really forgiven the men who ousted him and they have never forgiven him for his success as one of the sport's most respected trainers. Ironically, David Haye, one of England's best hopes for Commonwealth gold this month, has hired two former British heavyweight champions as sparring partners.
For Stephen Fullwood-Barnes it is the night he has worked towards since he walked through the doors at the gym when he was seven. He had turned 11, the legal minimum age for an amateur boxer in England, a few weeks earlier during a training week at Club Anfi on Gran Canaria. Ingle knew he had a talent in little Stevie and he was taken away with the professional champions like Johnny Nelson and Junior Witter for a week in the sun. At the Richmond Tavern, as the buffet was cleared and the mums and dads came in from the karaoke, Fullwood-Barnes was having his gloves laced up. The smoke was still heavy in the air.
The lights stayed on in the Majestic Suite when the boxers entered. The small boys had their heads buried inside the regulation headguards and most of their arms concealed inside the lumpy gloves. The boys box three rounds of 90 seconds. The bouts – this is amateur boxing and therefore they are taking part in bouts and not fights – form a blur of colour in the ring. The man in white is never far from the action and when it is over both the boxers embrace. Fullwood-Barnes looked slick for two rounds but he tired and Hull's Giuseppe Ponton came on strong in the last. The three judges gave the verdict to Fullwood-Barnes and Ingle had another young prospect.
At the back of the Majestic Suite the exhausted chef was handing out food to all the boxers who weighed in. The chicken and pork plates were being consumed in silence. Next to the serving area the coaches from Hull, Middlesborugh and Liverpool were collecting their little bit of bunce for their travel. They would be back at the Richmond Tavern next year, back on the road with their small boys.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments