Daniel Dubois beats Anthony Joshua in classic heavyweight title boxing title.
This could not have gone any better for Daniel Dubois. Wembley Stadium, normally the witnesses to traditional FA Cup Finals, was baying for blood although metaphorically, none was spoilt thankfully. Instead Daniel Dubois, whom none could have foreseen as a potential heavyweight title hero, sent Anthony Joshua wobbling, swaying, rocking and then toppling to the canvas ring like a boat stranded out at sea. It was the kind of enthralling, gripping, captivating and, ultimately memorable boxing contest any of us had seen for quite some time.
But the result was one that had come completely out of the blue. Anthony Joshua was his usual cocky, confident, assured and insouciant self, just oblivious to the thought that any prize fighter could possibly beat him. Joshua could always talk a good fight. We knew that much. In fact so articulate and streetwise had he been for so many years before this fight that victory almost seemed inevitable and academic. But Joshua looked as though he hadn't done all of his homework rigorously enough because Dubois was ready for him, prepared to stare into the whites of Joshua's eyes and challenge Joshua's heavyweight dominance with a snarling impertinence.
Throughout the generations, we have seen so many British heavyweight boxers come and go with varying degrees of lucrative success. We just adored Frank Bruno because, of course, he was vulnerable, gullible and horribly impressionable. We knew Bruno could beat the best and, to that end, he fulfilled that boxing remit. Maybe we were not entirely surprised when Mike Tyson came along and gave Bruno the severest battering and cudgelling. Poor Bruno was never the same fighter, the private demons set in and the mental health issues were cruelly exposed. And yet Bruno has recovered his poise in contented retirement.
Then there was Lennox Lewis, the Canadian East Ender from the grand old capital city of London. Lewis was another fierce puncher with all the necessary tools in his repertoire. Lewis had his days in the sun as well but, rather like his British contemporaries, it didn't last for long. It was sad but true. Then there was the legendary Henry Cooper, our 'Enery Cooper who sent shock waves through the heavyweight nerve centre when Cassius Clay, who had hitherto shown strong signs of achieving transcendent greatness, helplessly cowered under the relentless onslaught. Cooper let loose with a fiery, barnstorming, grandstanding barrage of punches that sent the man who would become Muhammad Ali falling into the ropes like a giant oak toppling into the undergrowth.
The shots were clubbing Clay's head painfully and Cooper almost became a British heavyweight sensation. Regrettably, this was not to be Cooper's night and the rest is well documented history. So, fast forward 60 years later and Anthony Joshua, the current contender to the crown of world heavyweight champion, announced himself as a future champion who would never ever be beaten. We suspected though, there was something in the air before the first bell at Wembley but then Joshua thought he had this fight in the bag, an immovable object who would have to be blasted into submission and left dazed, dazzled and down.
After five gruelling rounds, the familiar war of attrition that normally characterises these big boxing nights, Daniel Dubois became acclaimed as the new kid on the block, the all conquering hero who took most of us unawares. We knew that he'd established an impressive reputation but Joshua would be one impregnable obstacle too far. And yet how wrong would we be. Boxing is a hard, unforgiving sport, brutal and barbaric at times, almost callous and heartless at others, a spectacle that can often be terrifying to watch but almost sadistically satisfying to the discerning punters who pay good money to see a good, old fashioned punch up. This one had a no holds barred feel to it and Joshua emerged at the end like a bewildered tourist who had knocked on the door of a bed and breakfast hotel by the seaside and asked how much a couple of nights would be.
From the first round, Dubois went straight to work, unleashing his savagery, driving into Joshua's body with a formidable barrage of full blooded jabs and uncompromising shots to head and stomach that could almost be heard at Wembley Park Tube station. Then the gloves flung out with wild abandon, flying and swinging away with ruthless power into Joshua's midriff. Joshua was immediately taken aback, stunned by this wholly unexpected attack on his supremacy. Some of us lost count of the number of times that Joshua staggered helplessly, reeling away as if shocked to the core, eyes glazed over.
The second round was much the same fare, a diet of destructive upper cuts, frightening jabs that were meant to destabilise Joshua. By now Dubois could sense victory without finishing off Joshua in the way he would have liked much sooner. But then yet much more decisive punishment was dealt out to Joshua. The punches were now like deadly missiles and Dubois waded in with another irresistible assault on Joshua, working his way through Joshua's now fragile defences with crunching, thudding blows to Joshua's head that almost sounded like some discordant piece of music in Joshua's ears.
The third round marked an even more dramatic deterioration. Joshua was now hiding away from Dubois in case the paramedics would be required to jump into the ring to save him. Dubois's low blows into Joshua's forehead were leaving AJ crumpled and almost haggard in the face. This was a merciless attack on the former world heavyweight title, an insult to Joshua's intelligence, a degrading act of violence that should never happen again but did last night. Perhaps though Joshua had assumed too much and we know what happens to those boxers who adopt an air of haughty presumption. They lose and they lose quite heavily.
By the fourth round, Joshua was gasping for air, holding on for dear life, head now spinning, resistance quite futile. There was no way back for AJ. Dubois was just tormenting Joshua, rifling punches into Joshua's dignity, scaring the life out of him as if boxing had been a lifelong vocation and where now the scars of bloodthirsty defeat had sucked the life out of him. One after the other the punches arrived, Joshua slowly dropping to the ground for those now final, concluding chapters of this vicious fight to the bitter end.
In the fifth round, the round where the final towel of surrender would shortly appear, Joshua looked as though he'd had enough. Dubois started bombarding Joshua with all manner of punishment, rabbit punches at first and then the ultimate artillery. There were lethal punches to Joshua from all angles and suddenly, the end. One classical swing hit Joshua flush on the face and the muscular, powerful man from London crashed onto the canvas as if hit by a bulldozer, while his opponent Daniel Dubois almost revelled in the glorious moment of victory.
In the audience was one Tyson Fury who must have been licking his lips in anticipation at any future confrontation with his long held rival and antagonist. Fury loves mind games and the kind of big talking that leaves promoters salivating with delight. This one could still be on, a genuine possibility. There are tickets to be sold and seats to be occupied so boxing could be on the verge of one of the greatest showdowns in its illustrious history. Joshua would be up for it without any shadow of a doubt. His pride was left in tatters last night and he wants to touch the stars again.
And yet this was Daniel Dubois night, one that must have astonished even the most impartial observers. It is hard to form any judgment on Dubois because, although he might have been considered as a surprise package, boxing is one of those sports where even the improbable can become the most incredible fairy story that came true. Whether Joshua now retires from boxing remains a moot point but on the evidence of last night's spellbinding punch up, you can't help but think that Joshua is no defeatist and the hunger is ravenous as ever. We shall see.
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