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These guys deserve our respect too , they keep the sport alive by taking fights on short notice , fighting olympians and up and comers , saving fights from cancellation etc.
Here's a good article i came across
Here's a good article i came across
FOR those of us who attend boxing shows live, whether they be a large SKY promotion or just a local professional show, how many of us are aware of the role undertaken by the often overlooked journeyman or “opponent”, the type of boxer with a record that would make a non-boxing fan ask what was the point of them doing it? Does anyone give these show-saving men the thought or respect they deserve?
Cast into a role as anything from fodder to public enemy, they rarely get to sun themselves on the big occasion or glory nights, yet their role is one to which the champions of today owe so much.
These men are rarely written about or interviewed yet the stories of their experiences would make fascinating reading.
It must be a dispiriting experience as these boxers are usually at the bottom of the card fighting young novices at the beginning of the show in front of a handful of devotees and local fans, if indeed the doors have even been opened for the fans, something I have experienced on more than one occasion.
Often these fighters have driven many hour,s car sharing with other boxers on the undercard to save petrol, arriving at some run-down leisure centre, looking for the changing rooms to hear their trainer muttering “not the toilets again”.
Even when they enter the ring, there is no fanfare nor music for this boxer, often his fight record is not even read out. Just four or six rounds, often on the back foot, the opponent getting his hand raised even if the journeyman deserves the decision. Then follows a long journey back home, and if they are lucky they may return in time to put up their feet, hold a bag of ice to the area most affected and watch the main event on TV. And for what? They are not paid a huge sum.
Journeymen fighters know how to look after themselves in the ring, usually going the distance, rarely being stopped. I was enjoying a show recently when a regular journeyman was stopped somewhat prematurely in the first round; his disgust was plain to see. After ranting at the referee he did the same to the ringside officials. While this was going on I heard a spectator behind me say, “What’s he so upset about? He always loses”. I began to explain the situation to my fellow spectator, as another man, this one wearing a suit, walked towards the defeated boxer with a pre-printed letter explaining that he couldn’t fight for 28 days. This boxer has two more fights planned that month, that’s the tax on his car he can’t pay or the school trip he can’t afford to send his child on. No wonder he was angry. Or is it more? Is it pride in his boxing, competitive nature, the will to win, even though he may have lost his last 46 contests?
So what of the journeyman? The term itself has a derogatory air about it to some; this is a guy who has to train around a full-time job and sees little of the glamour of boxing. I once saw a fighter reach his 100th fight, a fantastic achievement. As we gave our applause we waited to see what he would be awarded and he receives a £4 bottle of wine! Indeed when Peter Buckley reached the 300-fight milestone, the popular press got hold of the story and one newspaper printed the headline “Britain’s worst boxer”. People within boxing were appalled by a headline as cheap as it was untrue.
Medical checks are now a regular feature for the modern boxer, so no more should we see ex-fighters suffering the first signs of dysphasia as we used to. This enables these men to box for longer, these men who often fight at a day’s notice to save a show, the promoter’s rabbit in the hat.
Next time you’re at a show, just give a thought to the journeyman, these guys are the bread and butter of the sport and without them boxing might not exist at all.
Cast into a role as anything from fodder to public enemy, they rarely get to sun themselves on the big occasion or glory nights, yet their role is one to which the champions of today owe so much.
These men are rarely written about or interviewed yet the stories of their experiences would make fascinating reading.
It must be a dispiriting experience as these boxers are usually at the bottom of the card fighting young novices at the beginning of the show in front of a handful of devotees and local fans, if indeed the doors have even been opened for the fans, something I have experienced on more than one occasion.
Often these fighters have driven many hour,s car sharing with other boxers on the undercard to save petrol, arriving at some run-down leisure centre, looking for the changing rooms to hear their trainer muttering “not the toilets again”.
Even when they enter the ring, there is no fanfare nor music for this boxer, often his fight record is not even read out. Just four or six rounds, often on the back foot, the opponent getting his hand raised even if the journeyman deserves the decision. Then follows a long journey back home, and if they are lucky they may return in time to put up their feet, hold a bag of ice to the area most affected and watch the main event on TV. And for what? They are not paid a huge sum.
Journeymen fighters know how to look after themselves in the ring, usually going the distance, rarely being stopped. I was enjoying a show recently when a regular journeyman was stopped somewhat prematurely in the first round; his disgust was plain to see. After ranting at the referee he did the same to the ringside officials. While this was going on I heard a spectator behind me say, “What’s he so upset about? He always loses”. I began to explain the situation to my fellow spectator, as another man, this one wearing a suit, walked towards the defeated boxer with a pre-printed letter explaining that he couldn’t fight for 28 days. This boxer has two more fights planned that month, that’s the tax on his car he can’t pay or the school trip he can’t afford to send his child on. No wonder he was angry. Or is it more? Is it pride in his boxing, competitive nature, the will to win, even though he may have lost his last 46 contests?
So what of the journeyman? The term itself has a derogatory air about it to some; this is a guy who has to train around a full-time job and sees little of the glamour of boxing. I once saw a fighter reach his 100th fight, a fantastic achievement. As we gave our applause we waited to see what he would be awarded and he receives a £4 bottle of wine! Indeed when Peter Buckley reached the 300-fight milestone, the popular press got hold of the story and one newspaper printed the headline “Britain’s worst boxer”. People within boxing were appalled by a headline as cheap as it was untrue.
Medical checks are now a regular feature for the modern boxer, so no more should we see ex-fighters suffering the first signs of dysphasia as we used to. This enables these men to box for longer, these men who often fight at a day’s notice to save a show, the promoter’s rabbit in the hat.
Next time you’re at a show, just give a thought to the journeyman, these guys are the bread and butter of the sport and without them boxing might not exist at all.
LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOO 
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