BOXING FATALITIES ARE NOT WORTH THE WEIGHT
THIRTY-SEVEN years on from the tragic death of Young Ali, I still shudder when a boxer loses his life as a result of injuries sustained in the ring.
It has been a terrible 18 months for our sport with the tragic Patrick Day the sixth boxer to leave us in that period.
It is almost always the same, the fatal blows coming at the end of hard fights when exhausted bodies are drained of every last drop of resistance. Fatalities occur in divisions where boxers are required to make weight and we know enough now about the importance of hydration and the dangers of rapid weight loss to be concerned.
The brain is protected by fluids. When the balance of fluids changes as a result of extreme dieting in the lead-up to fights, boxers are thought to be more vulnerable. But no one knows what the chemical limit is.
The problem is rooted in a culture where fighters seek any advantage, squeezing the weight to be as light as they can to give them an edge. A boxer who walks around at middleweight, 160lbs, might shrink to welterweight (147) for the purposes of the weigh-in.
The whole process is horrible, eating little and training. The problem is you can’t spar for 10 rounds with the heartrate at 80/90 per cent of maximum without refuelling. So fighters leave it late to shed the pounds. The vast majority make it safely. Ultimately, the responsibility lies with fighter, manager and his coach to manage the process safely.
The British Boxing of Board Control operates a week out and then a three-day check to ensure you are within a regulated percentage.
Perhaps this should be universally applied.
At elite level, rivals hit harder and are harder to hit. Mistakes at the top are paid for. In extreme cases, as we have seen to our cost, this can be fatal.