BRUTAL self-harm

Boxing sinks to a new low with the shameful debacle which denied Beltran the chance to dethrone Burns

SOME will tell you that boxing is as broken as Ricky Burns’ jaw. Nah, it ain’t broke, buddy. It’s been fixed. And its salvation l i es i n the unfixing of an environment where even the most shamefully baffling decision is accepted with a shrug, a wry smile and a few muttered excuses about the inevitability of a hometown verdict.

Now, let us be perfectly clear. No one is throwing around accusations about individual judges, fighters or promoters either giving or receiving anything — money, favours, future considerations — in exchange for the ‘right’ result in one particular contest.

If you’re searching for reasons behind the rapidly spreading disconnect between those pushing the sport and the dwindling numbers still buying their bullshine, though, then you need to start with a system that reeks of institutionalised favouritism towards the incumbent. A perception that the big boxoffice draws, the guys who have already signed up for the next major show, simply won’t be

allowed to lose their warmup bout. There are days when it’s incredibly hard for even the most ardent fight fan to defend boxing. Days when even diehards, people not naïve enough to think that there was ever a golden era of Corinthian morality in the pro game, decide that it’s no longer worth turning up or tuning in. This is one of those days.

Because what happened to Ray Beltran in

Ricky didn’t want to put that belt on. He doesn’t want to be given anything

Glasgow on Saturday night just isn’t good enough. Not for any sport that considers itself worth the candle. Not for a challenger who so clearly won, yet was denied the spoils of victory. And least of all for a Scottish champion whose bravery is undermined by the sham perpetrated at ringside in the SECC.

Defeat, after fighting 10 rounds with a devastating injury, would have left Burns without the WBO lightweight belt but with a heroic tale to be told, a guaranteed rematch — and at least a slugger’s chance of restoring his standing by beating Beltran. A true warrior, the 30yearold from Coatbridge could have accepted that.

Instead, Burns — assuming he recovers from the shattering physical blow — will be kept away from the dangerous Mexican, whose swinging left hand introduce a whole new world of pain to our home hero.

The promoters won’t countenance a rematch, Burns will move on to a mandatory defence or unification bout, maybe even step up a division. Neither Ricky nor the sport he loves will benefit from such evasion. And more fans will drift away, turning over to the cage fighting or even the mockery of wrestling.

‘People ask why UFC is taking over in America, why people are turned off by boxing — and this is the reason,’ says Steve Feder, the New Yorker who had guided Beltran to a first title shot at the age of 32.

‘You can’t bring someone into the sport, have them watch that and clearly understand who won the fight — and then explain the outcome to them. It’s a sad day for boxing. And it’s not the only day we’ve had like this.

‘Ricky is a true champion and I think he would have lived with a loss tonight. I think he would have had a rematch. We would have had it in the USA and it would have been great for his career, and great for Ray’s too.

‘At the end of the day, Ricky is still the champion. I can tell my kid t hat he is t he t r ue champion all I want — but Ricky is probably going to walk into Madison Square Garden and fight Miguel Vazquez or Terence Crawford. Did he earn the right to do that? No, he didn’t.

‘There is a lot of politics, a lot of moving around. There were a lot of discussions beforehand about Ricky’s next fight, which I always feel is bad for the sport. Why are we talking about the next fight? It makes people think pieces are being moved around. ‘You send a kid like Ray to Madison Square Garden and you’re worried about ticket sales? This is what boxing is supposed to be about. Dig yourself out of a hole. It’s not over until it’s over. He would have been great if he’d won the title. ‘You could have written about Ray for a year. Now, by next week, no one will give a damn. That’s what’s so sad.’ By the latter stages of Saturday’s clash, a majority of the crowd had realised that we were witnessing a truly great boxing story. An underdog tale that Feder describes as ‘Rockyesque’, as the bighitting Mexican veteran — the No 6 challenger on the WBO list — came from nowhere to dethrone the champion.

Sure, it was painful to watch Burns stumble and grapple, hold on for dear life, wince in agony every time the right side of his face was touched. Anyone who has spent even a little time with the endearing Ricky would have felt sick to their stomach as he sprawled on the canvas at the start of the eighth.

But recognising the quality of the other guy is an integral part of the sport. So, while a few halfwits, who had taken in more than they could handle, booed Beltran at the end, many stood to applaud a guy who had obviously won the fight; a rematch wouldn’t have required much selling to real fight fans in the crowd.

Burns was in anguish when the final bell sounded. Partly that was because he couldn’t see straight for the agony of his busted mandible, but part of his pain must have stemmed from a realisation that he’d lost. He looked embarrassed when handed back his belt. ‘Ricky didn’t want to put that belt on tonight,’ noted Feder. ‘What does that say to you? It says that this guy is a real champion and he doesn’t want to be given anything.

‘This country should be incredibly proud of Ricky. This isn’t about him. Ricky didn’t rob us. You’re a smart fighter and you do whatever you have to do to survive in there.

‘ I think that kid would be dynamite if he came to the States. The fans would love him.

‘This could have been a great moment for the sport. We could have had a rematch in the States and everyone would have felt like reinvesting themselves in boxing because there is justice in it.

‘But we missed another opportunity. What are we all doing here? We do this because we love it. But what’s to love about tonight?’

Not a lot. And there won’t be much love in the future, either. Until and unless boxing fixes a broken system that inflicts defeat upon winners, cheats paying customers — and buries acts of true heroism beneath a fresh wave of disgust, distrust and disenchantment.