By the BBC’s Derek ‘Robbo’ Robson
Well a bit of justice was done on Sunday.
Not the Boro’s utter dismantling of them Arsenal boys that left Arsene Wenger with the usual gripes about teams doing their nasty hard tackles on his darling boys. (No mention of the happy-slapping Eboue, mind).
Nah, we gave the Sports Personality Award to the right person. He should’ve got in the top three last year at the very least, but the forelock-tugging numb-nuts of the British public decided to chuck it the way of a toff and her gee-gee.
Calzaghe has not lost for 10 years. Sports Personality of the Decade, then.
Now I’ve heard them that’s in the know banging on about how boxing shouldn’t really be recognised in this way. And I’ve heard some long-winded apologies from boxing fans on phone-ins and the like.
The issue comes up when a likeable sort of fella like Ricky ‘Hitman’ Hatton (or Rick-yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyuh Hitman H-aaaaaaaa-tuuuuuuuuuunnnn as he’s now known) gets dumped on the canvas by a sickening blow.
Your medical profession says people shouldn’t be paid to inflict brain damage on each other. It’s hard to argue against that.
Your pro-fight lobby reel off a string of cliches such as:
1. It keeps young men off the streets.
Right. So does footy training but you don’t have blokes bashing the hell out of each other (if we ignore Messrs Bowyer and Barton, allegedly)
2. It gives them a discipline
So does yoga. Or knitting - who knows, if Enzo had encouraged the lad we might all be wearing a Calzaghe Christmas jumper on Boxing Day.
3. People get hurt in all sorts of sports - why not ban Formula 1?
Well cos they don’t try and drive their cars into the side of someone else’s head in order to knock them out.
4. And my favourite: ‘It’s the noble art’.
They’re boxers, not artists! The punters don’t want to witness some kind of pat-a-cake arty-farty nonsense. They want to watch some blokes t***ting each other for 45 minutes. And I’m not sure that’s all that noble.
Before you type your bloodlust into the messageboards, dear readers, let me make one thing clear. I LOVE BOXING, but I’m not deluding meself.
The reason we find ourselves admiring these blokes is not cos they’re fantastically trained gladiators but because they put themselves in the way of a bit of real, nasty pain and they keep giving it back.
Whether you like it or not these are grown men trying to earn a living. You might think it ignoble, but as far as a lot of us are concerned, it’s skilful, thrilling stuff.
That fussiest of law-enforcers, PC Lobby, might not want us to enjoy it, but we do, and the best of the fighters get very well-paid for it ‘n’ all.
The last person I want to sound like is Jeremy bleeding Clarkson, but, really, we know all the facts so let ‘em get on with it.
Otherwise the next thing you know the Grand National will be a flat race, the High Board Diving will be four feet off the ground, and the British Grand Prix’ll have speed bumps.
So well done Joe Calzaghe, for being the absolute best at one of the hardest, ugliest, and definitely most painful sports there is. He totally deserved the gong.
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