ONE of the stranger tasks I took on while working as press officer for a world heavyweight champion was having to educate the boxer in question on Millwall FC’s starting 11 ahead of an appearance on now-defunct Sky Sports show Soccer AM circa 2010.
In addition to the lineup, including player names and positions, I would furnish them with the manager’s name, the outcomes of their previous three matches, and reiterate their current standing in the league along with potential accomplishments for the season. Only then would we have the confidence that, during the limited time allocated to football discussions and not altercations, the boxer’s reaction wouldn’t lead to embarrassment or reveal his lack of genuine support for Millwall or football in general.
It was, you see, like most things in high-level sport, an exercise in manipulation and deception. Pull it off and, by aligning with a football club, you stood every chance of finding your tribe and capitalising, financially, on an in-built fanbase ready to follow you up and down the country to watch you fight. Get it wrong, however, which was always the danger when appearing on Soccer AM with absolutely zero knowledge of football, and you could find yourself the butt of a joke or, worse, called a charlatan; a snake oil salesman.
The presenters’ sensitivity and anticipation ensured that it was never truly a problem for this boxer. Each time he appeared on the show, he proudly declared himself a Millwall fan, obsessively muttering the name “Neil Harris” as if it belonged to the person who had abducted his child. Surprisingly, he thrived and gained popularity on the show. Occasionally, a few Millwall supporters would even attend his fights, although their numbers were not sufficient to warrant the extensive efforts made to ensure their presence.
Some individuals, who were genuinely passionate, had a more favorable outcome. Take Ricky Hatton, for example, who had numerous Manchester City supporters accompany him to Las Vegas. More recently, we witnessed cruiserweight Chris Billam-Smith compete and emerge victorious at the stadium of his beloved AFC Bournemouth, a team he has been a fan of since childhood. In fact, it is this connection that has made Billam-Smith one of the unexpected success stories in British boxing. His ascent reminds us of a time when authentic ticket-sellers were not only prevalent but also deeply intertwined with their local community and often linked to the nearest football club.
Billam-Smith’s next fight, by the way, will again see the ring positioned in the centre of a football pitch, albeit this time in south London rather than the south coast. His opponent, meanwhile, will be Richard Riakporhe, a man local to south London, who will be challenging for Billam-Smith’s WBO cruiserweight belt at Selhurst Park and doing so as a Crystal Palace fan. He, like Billam-Smith, is a genuine fan, too, you see, and when speaking about Palace requires no prompts. If in doubt, consider the response Riakporhe offered when, on Sky Sports this week, he was asked to name the two Palace players he felt would make the best boxers. His answer: “Joachim Andersen or Daniel Muñoz.” Suffice it to say, this was an answer only a true Palace fan could give and Billam-Smith, likewise, is someone whose love for Bournemouth not only predates his boxing career but sometimes appears to be even stronger than his love for boxing.
Five years ago, Riakporhe (L) and Billam-Smith (R) showcased their skills in action. (Dan Istitene/Getty Images)
This is not a fake tactic orchestrated by Riakporhe and Billam-Smith. Their passion for football is completely sincere and is a defining aspect of their boxing careers. Billam-Smith’s most memorable moment occurred on his preferred football field, where he won his world title. Riakporhe has been motivated by the song “Glad All Over” during several of his knockout victories, and on June 15th, he will have the opportunity to fight for a world title in front of Crystal Palace fans at Selhurst Park.
If they didn’t have this support, the two cruiserweights would probably face more difficulties in (a) securing fights and (b) establishing themselves in a division that is often overlooked. However, the distinctive aspect of football’s tribalism is that it not only sets it apart, but also has the potential to provide boxers with a level of loyalty that is absent in their own sport, if harnessed correctly.
This realization is only grasped by the intelligent individuals. The rest, driven by their ambition and arrogance, set their sights much higher and broader, only to inevitably fall short. They strive to conquer the world without first directing their efforts towards a club or community, believing that success can only be achieved by gaining recognition from the largest possible audience.
However, they are mistaken in believing so. Numerous individuals have mistakenly equated social media numbers with actual attendance figures or the number of subscriptions or pay-per-view purchases, and are now grappling with the lack of correlation between the two. Here’s the reason behind this confusion: in a world without rules, where most things can be obtained for free if you know where to find them, it has become essential to not only generate interest in a fight or a fighter but also to earn the loyalty, trust, and ultimately, the generosity of your audience.
Some boxers, it’s true, will grift and grind every day on social media in an effort to generate interest in their name and their fights and yet, come fight night, all you see, with them in the ring, are empty seats. Why? Because, although these boxers have cultivated an audience of sorts, the audience they have cultivated is one chronically online; that is, the kind likely to be watching the fight but doing so at home, on their laptop or phone, via an illegal stream. Choose to mix with that sort of crowd and that’s the price you will ultimately pay. On the other hand, touch grass, as they say, and set foot in the real world and there is a far greater chance that your personality – your true personality – actually connects with real, living, breathing human beings who may, you never know, actually part with real money to watch you fight. You may even one day find yourself walking across the grass of a football pitch roared on by stands full of fans, at which point you know then that you have scored.
