Harrison oblivious to fans' disenchantment

Audley Harrison is close to becoming a victim of his own celebrity just 12 months after nearly two million people set their alarms for five in the morning to watch him win a gold medal last year in Sydney and only four months after six million watched his professional debut.

On Saturday he resembled a weary fallen idol when the booing and jeering started as he raised his hands after outpointing Derek McCafferty over six rounds in front of less than 2,000 people at the Telewest Arena in Newcastle. It was a dismal display by Harrison, who looked clueless after his stamina faded at the start of round four against a man who has lost his last three fights and had not fought since December 1999.

As expected the apologists for the reigning Olympic champion insisted it all went to plan and offered their alternatives to the grim reality of Saturday night's failure. Officials from Octagon, the sports promotional company who comically represent him, Colin McMillan, his manager of record, Jess Harding, the promoter of the fight, and the BBC, who continue to support him, should now be wondering where they all went wrong. How did they take a national hero and make him the laughing stock of British boxing?

Harrison claims he is unaware of any difficulties and as the leader of Team Denial he is entitled to his blinkered position but surely somebody at the BBC will have seen the 9,000 empty seats in the arena and heard the disapproval of the small crowd. The BBC's coverage was saved only by the presence of the boxing icon Nigel Benn, who told the brutal truth even if it will undoubtedly lead to him never appearing on the channel ever again. "He can't fight," Benn said as he left the BBC's studio at midnight, but he had said far worse on air.

During the post-fight press conference Harrison made the extraordinary claim that he was not bothered by the booing, insisting "they" – presumably he means the British fans who pay a lot of money to watch boxing – always cheer the underdog. This is both insulting and wrong and a common excuse used by fighters who are simply not delivering. The British public loved Benn and adores Lennox Lewis and Naseem Hamed when they are knocking out opponents, and it would be the same with Harrison.

During the last six months it is obvious that Harrison and his apologists have been preparing themselves to blame the press for his lack of ringcraft and his continually abysmal physical condition but that is simply not the truth. Harrison can fight and most, but not all, so-called experts recognise this, which makes his performance against McCafferty during the last three rounds of the fight even more frustrating.

McCafferty won two of the last three rounds and the indifferent crowd were firmly behind his every lunge and booed loudly whenever Harrison, who was exhausted from round four, attempted to showboat and disguise his fatigue with a smile. "I would love a rematch," McCafferty said.

One pertinent question that will need to be answered, and hopefully there is somebody with enough knowledge of the sport at the BBC to ask, is why a professional athlete with two conditioners, two boxing coaches and a luxury training camp entered the ring on Saturday in such an appalling state. It should not be forgotten that the BBC has committed to pay Harrison over £1m for his services.

Finally, and this is a beauty, Harrison appeared to compliment the corporation after the fight when he said: "We will get back on the gravy train." This was too much for the gathered hacks, some of whom had covered Muhammad Ali's glory years, but when Harrison was questioned about the remark his reply was stunning. "No, no. Gravy on the street means 'smooth'," he offered. In the ring he had looked like the other gravy and we all know what that can occasionally look like.