Twenty-four years ago, the BBC kickstarted their return to boxing with Audley Harrison’s professional debut at Wembley Arena, all in the hope that Harrison would one day become heavyweight champion of the world. In Harrison, you see, the BBC felt they had the ideal fighter to launch their return. More than just a heavyweight, Harrison was also a household name in the UK on account of having just won a gold medal at the 2000 Olympics in Sydney. He was, in the minds of those at the BBC, a safe bet, worth the risk.
Tonight, in Derby, the BBC, following a 20-year hiatus, again returned to the ring with a heavyweight fight. This time, however, it was rather different from Harrison’s debut almost a quarter of a century ago. This time, rather than back just one British heavyweight and pay him a million pounds to pick his first 10 opponents, the BBC are now seemingly more interested in competitive fights, not individual fighters. That’s why tonight’s British heavyweight title fight between Frazer Clarke and Jeamie “TKV” Tshikeva both fit the bill and topped the bill. That’s why the BBC’s return has been welcomed and their two-decade absence forgiven. That’s also why they have crept back on BBC2, rather than go big on BBC1.
Neither Clarke nor Tshikeva have anywhere near the profile or hype Audley Harrison had in 2001, of course, but that’s not the point. The point is, it is far better to showcase good British title fights between British heavyweights than to put all eggs in the basket of just one. The point is, lessons have been learned.
On paper, Clarke-Tshikeva promised to be a well-matched fight, which is all that mattered. It was a better match than Audley Harrison vs. Mike Middleton, that’s for sure, and it could even be argued that it was a better match than the vast majority of Harrison fights shown by the Beeb during that peculiar time in British boxing. Moreover, with the vacant British heavyweight title at stake, there was something on the line in Derby; a reward even those casual fans watching at home might understand.
With Harrison in the early noughties, that was seldom the case. Often, in fact, fans would tune in to watch Harrison’s mismatches and wonder why both he and the BBC were agreeing to these fights. Often he would be pressured to step up and move towards British title contention, sooner rather than later.
Interestingly, Harrison, during that run on the BBC, never bothered to fight for the British title. He eschewed the domestic path entirely and went about things his own way, winning the spurious WBF (World Boxing Federation) heavyweight title just because the acronym contained the word “World”. With that all-important distinction, he could now sell an illusion to the British public watching on BBC – many of whom would have known no better – and he could also satisfy his own ego, having said from day one that he would become heavyweight champion of the world. Even if deep down Harrison knew that the WBF heavyweight title was not a real world title, fighters will do anything in the name of self-preservation, especially if they are not quite as confident as they would have the general public believe.
At least with Clarke and Tshikeva tonight, there was a sense of things being firmly rooted in reality. For one, because both men have already suffered defeat we know precisely where they stand in the domestic and world pecking order. Also, in fighting for the British title, they spared us the deception that sometimes goes hand in hand with big-time boxing being aired on terrestrial television. Here, thanks to the British title, we knew exactly what to expect. We knew, when watching Clarke and Tshikeva fight, that we were not watching world champions, nor even the best heavyweights in the country. Instead, we were watching two men vying for that spot – best of British – and were watching them with the knowledge that there are other British heavyweights competing at a higher level, therefore beyond contesting the British title in 2025. That gave the fight tonight two things often lacking in boxing: clarity and transparency.
All we needed now was a conclusive result, something that looked unlikely for much of the fight. Early on, Clarke appeared more assured and technical, landing solid right uppercuts on the inside. But then Tshikeva started to settle into the contest and proved the better of the two up close. There, where he capitalised on his own uppercuts and body punching, he would find openings Clarke didn’t realise he had left available and repeatedly landed his left hook whenever Clarke exited with his chin in the air. That shot, in particular, was a difference-maker in the fight and one that would pay dividends in the championship rounds.
Before then it was a mostly scrappy affair, with both doing as much holding as punching. Tshikeva, whose background is in wrestling, found himself docked a point for persistent low blows in round three and both were warned at various stages for different transgressions. It was just that kind of fight: physical, gruelling, desperate. Neither man wanted to give an inch and this meant that uppercuts were the order of the day, with countless connecting throughout the 12 rounds they shared.
In the eighth, attention turned to the body. Clarke sank a left hook into the Tshikeva midsection and Tshikeva then returned the favour, sending his left hand towards Clarke’s chin immediately afterwards. That, in truth, captured the difference between the pair: whereas Clarke was having the odd bit of success, Tshikeva was the one doubling up and following any first wave of attack with a second. In the final analysis, that difference would prove crucial. It also ensured that Tshikeva did more longer-term damage to Clarke than Clarke did to him, as demonstrated in round 11 when Clarke needed all his powers of recovery to make it through the round. Shaken by a left hook, all of a sudden Clarke’s legs had betrayed him and his body went soft, limp. It seemed nigh on impossible for him to stand, let alone move, or punch. Yet somehow, Clarke heard the bell to end the round and, with some help, was guided back to his corner. There, in the corner, he was met by his trainer, Angel Fernandez, who read him the riot act and asked to see signs of life. “Are you with me?” yelled Fernandez. “I’m going to throw the towel in!”
He didn’t, of course, but the threat alone was enough to have Clarke react – both in the corner and in the next round, the last. He did, to his credit, respond rather well in round 12, pushing Tshikeva back and landing some shots of his own, but ultimately it was not enough. By then, the damage had been done and too many rounds had passed him by. There was a moral victory in reaching the final bell, yes, but that wasn’t the victory Frazer Clarke had been searching for at the start of the night. Which is perhaps why, when hearing he had lost by split decision (scores of 115-113 and 115-112 to Tshikeva trumping a score of 115-112 to Clarke), the beaten man fled the ring as quickly as he could.
At the age of 34, it was a loss Clarke, 9-2-1 (7 KOs), could ill afford. It was also another hard British title fight, much like his first one against Fabio Wardley in 2024, and one wonders how much it will have taken out of him.
As for Tshikeva, 9-2 (5 KOs), he responded to his first failed British heavyweight title shot, against David Adeleye in April, exactly as he would have wanted. He found a hole in Clarke’s style early and backed himself to exploit it over and over again, drawing Clarke into his kind of fight and essentially outlasting him.
The BBC, too, will have been thankful for Tshikeva’s approach. After all, by having the two British heavyweights attached as though by Velcro for 12 rounds, nothing needed to be explained or translated for the watching audience; some of whom will have been unfamiliar with both Clarke and Tshikeva (or TKV). In the end, if we know anything about the habits of the British public, we know this: we know, one, that they understand what the British heavyweight title fight means, and two, that they know a good scrap when they see one.
