Fight City comment: Arguments for and against journeymen

WHEN I began this blog following 50 years as a journalist, I pledged to tell fight fans the truth, free from bias. I pledged to speak my mind.

Today, too many bloggers give a sanitised, distorted and sugar-coated version of events.

If you are not there to provide criticism where criticism is due, you are embroiled in public relations, not journalism. Back in the distant 1970s, I grafted for three years to call myself a qualified journalist.

I had to attain 100 words a minute shorthand, pass exams in law and local government.

Those are not qualifications possessed by the majority of bloggers.

As a journalist, I again pondered on Saturday, during BCB’s Eastside Rooms, Birmingham, show, a question that has vexed me for some time: Do journeymen – that band of tough, “have gloves will travel” boxers – provide the professional sport with more positives than negatives.

It was a question spawned by two contests. Cliff Henry, a 42-year-old light-heavyweight, outpointed southpaw Darryl Sharp – a man who has won seven of 123 contests – 59-55.

Welter James Scarrott notched up his fifth pro win at the expense of Jake Smith, a Doncaster welter who has won one of 10. The Worcester fighter took every round of the six rounder, 60-54.

Writing a detailed report on either bout would be difficult. There was little drama or excitement. No threat of an explosive finish.

Sharp went through his repertoire, backing to the ropes, beckoning Henry to throw punches, talking and pointing to the canvas. Frankly, he could’ve done what he did all night.

Scarrott is a good, tidy boxer who worked neatly. But, in Smith, he faced a man in survival mode from the first bell, a man not prepared to take chances. Only in the last, did the Doncaster fighter show a modicum of ambition.

How can you truly shine against someone like that?

This is not a criticism of BCB, because journeymen have become an intrinsic part of small hall boxing. What I write is aimed at every small hall promoter in the West Midlands and beyond.

This is not a criticism of Saturday night’s winners or their trainers because a boxer, at this level, has little say in who he faces. He can only beat what is placed in front of him.

This is not a criticism of journeymen who have capitalised on a niche in the market. They risk health for a payday and they get paid well and frequently. They are skilled at what they do: box, emerge relatively unscathed and, with luck, go through it all again the following week.

This is a criticism of the system that has made presenting young, home ticket-sellers with a succession of journeymen the norm.

So what, honestly, is a journeyman?

He is, frankly, a man who does not enter the ring fired-up for victory. He knows if he wins, those handling future opponents will consider him a little too risky and snub his services. As MJ Hall admitted: “I won two on the spin and had three contests cancel on me.”

Therefore, a loss on points is financially sensible. A loss by stoppage is not because each TKO brings a period of suspension which stems the cash stream.

Also, too many inside distance losses and the British Boxing Board of Control will stop a fighter continuing with his career.

Journeymen are, therefore, masters of survival. They know every defensive trick in the book.

They will, if prospects take liberties or come out with all guns blazing, battle back. Other than those very rare occasions, they’re harder to prise open than a safe.

I was reporting on professional boxing in the 1970s and cannot recall journeymen. There were mismatches, there were poor professionals, there were instances when boxers bottled it.

But I cannot recall men who came to survive, not necessarily win.

What is the case for journeymen?

They give young pros experience and the opportunity to get rounds under their belts, to get used to the longer distances.

I’m not sure I buy that philosophy because surely that could be done behind closed doors in a gym.

What is the case against journeymen?

Boxing is a form of violent entertainment and bouts involving journeymen are rarely entertaining. What’s more, such contests can give unbeaten boxers a false sense of security. After feasting on a list of journeymen, facing someone who wants to engage and detonate his own shots can be a shock to the system.

We’ve all seen hot prospects, with long unbeaten records, unravel when it comes to the first acid test.

Saturday’s show featured a humdinger of a main event between big punching Troy Jones and a Polish boxer who burned with ambition, he was very much a live opponent. Troy was dropped and shaken before prevailing in the fourth.

He told me afterwards: “I learned more in that fight than in 10 against ‘binmen’ who curl into a ball.”

So are journeymen really that vital to a boxer’s education? Isn’t facing one a little like sitting an exam you can’t fail?

The vast majority of young fighters I speak to would much rather take risks against live opposition. Dudley’s Ryan Griffiths, for example, is taking part in next Saturday’s Top Boxer lightweight tournament because he immediately wants to test himself in 50-50 contests, rather than eight bouts down the line. Dylan Norman is risking his unbeaten record in the tournament for the same reason.

And boxers know how difficult it is to look good against an opponent hell-bent on survival.

Why is the modern game so reliant on journeymen?

It stems, largely, from a growing paranoia surrounding defeat: if a boxer loses his “0”, it is considered a tragedy. This baffles me.

It has cascaded down from big time promoters who, essentially, sign-up boxers with unblemished records.

This fear of losing is wrong and damaging. If a local prospect with three wins loses to a local  prospect with five wins in a close, entertaining six rounder, his bubble has not been burst, his fighting future has not been ruined. What he has done is experience early on what will, down the line, become apparent – boxing is a rough, tough sport where you have to be at your best, mentally and physically.

He has received an invaluable lesson and given the paying public a cracking contest.

Decades ago, this all-consuming fear of failure did not exist in small hall boxing. Yes, there were boxers on major televised show whose records were padded with soft touches, but, at grass roots level, men on the way up fought each other. Such bouts stirred local rivalries, the atmosphere in venues was electric, the fights often thrilling.

Money is also a factor in the rise of the journeymen. It’s hard to make decent money from small hall promotions and pitting two unbeaten boxers against each other costs considerably more than bringing in a journeyman.

The above sentences are the cold facts, for and against. You decide.

The professional game has witnessed the rise in popularity of MMA and voiced increasing concern.

In these economically harsh times, small hall boxing can only prosper by gaining a reputation for consistently providing exciting battles and shows.

Punters are not mugs. If they read their boxer has been matched, say, against a Lithuanian who has won three of 89 contests, but only been stopped twice, they’ll know an edge-of-the-seat, blood and thunder encounter is unlikely.

Even worse, if someone who had never been to a boxing show before took the plunge, bought a ticket and watched Cliff Henry against Darryl Sharp or James Scarrott against Jake Smith – without the saviour of the thrilling main event – would he or she long to repeat the experience? Would they count the days until the next show?

Without meaning to offend any of the above fighters, I doubt it.

And that is the most compelling argument of them all.