WAR DIARIES
David Walker and Spencer Fearon came together to create a stunning cult classic 14 years ago this week. But, as Chris Walker discovers, the subsequent fortunes of winner and loser have left them worlds apart
MY WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN MESSED UP, AND IT’S ONLY BEEN BOXING THAT KEPT MY HEAD UP DURING MOST OF IT
THERE are contrasting emotions evident when speaking to David Walker. His is a tale of raw, almost indescribable anguish, laced with suicide, heartbreak and addiction. It is one that threatens to have a predictable ending but Walker, sitting in a rehabilitation unit pleading for help from the people around him, is facing this daunting opponent the only way he knows, and that is head on. A violent fighter, Walker can recall his wayward career with stunning accuracy and reminiscing about it makes him happy, albeit for a short moment.
Somewhere across town, Spencer Fearon talks with an authoritative swagger. He’s one of boxing’s most astute raconteurs and the role suits him. Once a fighter, briefly a promoter and sometimes a manager, Fearon achieved some success in the aforementioned roles, but his consistent presence in the sport has seen him land a variety of gigs including a position on the highly rated Sky Sports Toe 2
Toe podcast. Although the differences become clear when assessing the current status of both former fighters, a glance back to 2003 takes us to Norwich on a summer’s evening when, for just one night, Walker and Fearon, miles apart today in every aspect of their life, forged a bond that still invokes a lot of warmth and anger in the pair.
Tucked away on Howard Eastman’s European middleweight title defence against French veteran Hacine Cherifi, Walker and Fearon destroyed each other for just under four rounds in the type of contest that can irrevocably damage a fighter. Walker was saved by the bell in rounds one and two, and the same occurrence spared Fearon at the end of the third session. Walker began the following stanza with purpose, a barrage of punches while his opponent tried to protect himself on the ropes, was enough for referee Lee Cook to call the intervention with just under two minutes left in the round.
“I still say to this day that I was stopped too early,” opines Fearon.
Walker, meanwhile, admits: “[Referee] Lee Cook could’ve stopped me at the end of the second round because Spencer put me out – I didn’t know where I was and I wouldn’t have had no complaints if it was stopped.”
Screened by the BBC, and possibly the famed broadcaster’s last great fight, Walker against Fearon is perhaps the most positive memory of a warped television experiment that wasn’t intended for two Area-level Londoners to be remembered like they are today. Audley Harrison and his Olympic medal were the supposed to be the main focus of the network, yet some questionable matchmaking allowed the supporting cast to leave their mark.
“The undercards are where you saw the best fights on the BBC,” says Walker. “The boxing that was on the channel wasn’t meant to be about guys like me or Spencer. It was set up for good fighters like Audley and, later, people like Carl Froch and David Haye. There was a lot of hunger from the guys coming up who wanted to be top of the bill, and have the exposure that other fighters were getting. The way me and Spencer went at it for a Southern Area belt shows you how bad we wanted it. The pair of us must be mad.”
Walker’s path to the Fearon war had been documented by the Beeb. Chilling battles with Jimmy Vincent (l rsf 8) and John Humphrey (w ko 2) highlighted Walker as a minor attraction, with the latter showing netting him Area honours. Fearon witnessed that one while away sparring in Denmark and was desperate for the fight to get made.
“I knew Walker a long time,” he recalls. “All the way back to him winning in the London ABAS against Tony Cesay. That’s how far I can take it back with him. We were both South London boys. He fought for the Fisher ABC and I was with Lynn ABC. You know what I’m like with boxing because I have to know everything and I knew Walker well. His fight with Humphrey, I’m sure I got that on some sort of BBC link in Denmark and I was just saying to myself, ‘I want this fight’ over and over. He was good but I didn’t think he was a light-middleweight [now super-welterweight], and that’s where I thought I could make the difference. The first two rounds are probably the best I’ve produced in my life. When he had me hurt I knew I was going to come back, but the referee never gave me that chance to show I still had something left.”
For Fearon, the Walker contest was the penultimate fight of an underachieving career that he looks back on with a twinge of regret. He had thought that his boxing journey was only beginning when it was in fact nearing its end. Another fourth-round loss, this time to Gilbert Eastman three months later, prompted “The Spirit” to call it a day, and he retired with a 11-6 (4) record.
As a promoter, he made an impact with both fans, fighters and journalists, as his
shows received wide acclaim.