When referee Howard Foster stepped between super-middleweights Carl Froch and George Groves in a Manchester ring on the night of November 23, 2013, two things immediately happened: one, a chorus of boos rang out; and two, we braced ourselves for days, weeks, and months of discussion as to whether it was the right call or not.
Often, when arguing the case for Groves, the defeated, the discussion would descend into whataboutery, with those keen to condemn Foster primed to ask him the following questions: What about the state Carl Froch found himself in when dropped heavily in round one? Was he not in a worse state than Groves in round nine? Did he not receive the benefit of the doubt when he could have conceivably been stopped?
What about Froch’s reputation for being tough? Did that not play into your thinking when you gave him the benefit of the doubt? What about Groves’ reputation? Was that also on your mind when you raced between the two boxers in round nine? Or was it because he was the challenger and not the champion that you showed such haste to end his challenge when things started to get dicey? Had he been the champion and not the challenger, would you have afforded him a few extra seconds to recover when on the brink of collapse?
After the fight, these questions, fair or not, rang around the Groves changing room as he tried to make sense of what had happened. One minute he was winning the fight, and nailing Froch with regularity, and the next he had allowed the WBA and IBF champion to gain momentum, drive him back to the ropes, and complete his comeback in round nine.
So swiftly had the tide of the fight turned, Groves now required time to take stock. All he knew, initially, was that his challenge had ended in round nine and that Howard Foster, the referee, was the man who had decided to end it.
“Two weeks ago, Paddy [Fitzpatrick, coach] said to me, ‘I’m a bit worried about Howard Foster because he has a habit of jumping in early,’” said Groves in his changing room that night.
“Howard Foster said to me that the reason he stopped it was because George was hurt,” added Fitzpatrick. “Now, Froch was hurt six times before George had even taken a solid shot from him. Being hurt isn’t good enough. This is a world title fight. This man didn’t even give him a chance, let alone a count. No benefit of the doubt whatsoever.”
Once the pair had had the opportunity to go home, watch the fight back on video, and finesse their complaints, it wasn’t then long before they were lobbying the International Boxing Federation (IBF) for a rematch. The basis of their appeal was predicated on the view that Groves had been stopped prematurely by Foster in round nine and that both Groves and the fight had been robbed of a conclusive finish as a result.
Wrapped up in this accusation was the suggestion that Foster had given Froch the benefit of the doubt on occasions when he was hurt due to his reputation for durability and his past record of turning losing positions into winning ones. In addition, Groves and his team felt that in round nine Groves had been the victim of his opponent’s reputation – “Well, it was only going to end one way…” – and also his own. After all, Groves, in stark contrast to Froch, had been considered vulnerable ever since he almost unravelled against Kenny Anderson in a 2010 Commonwealth title fight. Since then, many had believed that for all Groves’ wonderful attributes – his world-class jab, his excellent footwork, his big heart – there would come a time when his chin would let him down or he would need protection from himself. This belief, or fear, made his fights not only fraught with tension, but also left Groves and Fitzpatrick wondering whether Howard Foster’s intervention in round nine might have owed to perception rather than reality. That is to say, was the perception of Groves being vulnerable, combined with the perception of Froch as powerful/immovable/relentless, the trigger for Foster to bat away his uncertainty and move between them in round nine? Groves would say yes, while Foster of course would say no. In fact, when later asked about it, the referee was adamant that every boxer is merely a silhouette on fight night and that no past results or performances, or even their reputation, has any bearing on decisions made once the first bell rings.
And yet, referees are only human. It is why they occasionally err – stopping a fight late or too early, or simply not seeing something we, aided by television replays, spotted long before them. Just as each of us will have preconceived notions of people, and perhaps judge them, so too will a referee be aware of a boxer’s strengths and weaknesses, regardless of the extent to which they try to ignore them on fight night. Truth be told, if anybody in boxing is acutely aware of a boxer’s strengths and weaknesses it will, given their proximity to them, be a referee. It is hard therefore to imagine a referee disregarding certain tells when in the presence of two boxers with whom they are very familiar. Generally speaking, the more experience you accrue in life, the more knowledge you accrue. It then becomes harder to either forget what you have learned or react in a way that is pure and untainted; that is, without bias or memory.
On Saturday night, 12 and a half years after Froch-Groves I, Howard Foster was again in a Manchester ring, this time officiating the thrilling WBO heavyweight title fight between Fabio Wardley and Daniel Dubois. On this occasion Foster had heavyweights, not super-middleweights, so his intervention, if necessary, would have to be forceful and full of conviction. It would also need to be perfectly timed.
In the fight’s early rounds, it appeared as though the man Foster would be tasked with stopping would be Dubois, the challenger. It was Dubois, after all, who found himself knocked down twice within the opening three rounds, shocked in a way that evoked Carl Froch’s face early on against Groves in 2013.
However, just like Froch, Dubois soon warmed up and by the fight’s second half was well in control. The only question now was whether he could stop a bloodied and battered Wardley before the final bell and whether a bloodied and battered Wardley should be allowed to hear it.
Most around ringside watched on in disbelief as Wardley took heavy shot after heavy shot only to remain upright and firing back. By round nine his facial damage was so severe it called for the intervention of the ringside doctor, but even then he was permitted to go out for more. The same then happened before the start of round 10, by which point most in attendance were up in arms and calling for it to end. By then Wardley had taken enough and we, the audience, had seen enough.
As the fight awkwardly continued, you asked yourself why. On the one hand, it was true that Wardley’s earlier success and his courage to continue throwing gave him a puncher’s chance to do the unthinkable, yet, equally, how likely was a miracle as they entered the championship rounds? Moreover, to what degree was the reputation of Wardley – built on power and rallying from the brink of defeat – the reason for the reluctance to stop the fight and thus the reason he was now being punished unnecessarily?
Had he not been a puncher, and had he not dramatically knocked out Justis Huni from a losing position in 2025, there is every chance Wardley would have been rescued much sooner than he was on Saturday night. There is every chance that rather than wait until 28 seconds into round 11, either his corner team or the referee would have withheld the benefit of the doubt and saved him for another day. They certainly had grounds to. Damage had been accumulated. Rounds were being lost. The task was insurmountable.
But no. Because Wardley kept showing signs of life, and because Wardley is Wardley, the fight went on well beyond the point of comfort. In fact, by the time it was eventually stopped by Foster in round 11, we were thankful for it, glad that Foster, if not the Wardley corner, had done the right thing.
Whereas in 2013 Foster’s Manchester intervention had been greeted with a loud chorus of boos, the only sound we heard on Saturday was a collective sigh of relief. Tellingly, too, there was no complaint from Fabio Wardley.
