The commotion began when a voice erupted from the midst of the crowd. Boisterous, confident, and utterly unwelcome, it caught the attention of every individual present. As heads turned, the spectators pondered whether this interruption had been orchestrated, and if anyone nearby could identify the source of these disruptive words. Eventually, focus shifted back to Ben Whittaker, whose voice had been drowned out by this unexpected interjection. We pondered whether Whittaker held the key to understanding the situation, hoping he possessed the clarity that eluded the rest of us.
From the back of a hotel conference room in London, it was possible for anyone to be watching. It could have been someone who was angered by Whittaker after he took their leopard-print robe, or an old opponent seeking the respect he never received in the boxing ring. Perhaps it was one of those boxing managers who constantly share their opinions with fans on Zoom, or even Mauricio Sulaiman with a new championship belt or Turki Alalshikh with a fresh idea. It might have been a retired fighter promoting CBD oil or the embodiment of a Ryan Garcia tweet. Considering Ben Whittaker was on stage, it could have been the spirit of Frankie Randall demanding his old nickname, “The Surgeon,” back. Alternatively, it could have been Emanuel Augustus yearning for the return of his signature moves and his entire identity.
At the moment, all we had was an accent and a few words to go off of. Based on these words, it seemed that this man desired a confrontation with Whittaker. Specifically, he wanted to challenge Whittaker to a fight for monetary gain. Moreover, he accused Whittaker of only fighting insignificant opponents and deliberately avoiding him. This statement prompted numerous fans, equipped with cameras, to prepare for an attention-grabbing headline. However, it is important to note that Whittaker refused to engage in the same banter. Instead, he defused any tension by humorously suggesting, “Someone should get this man a Sprite and a banana.” This lighthearted comment evoked laughter throughout the room.
Following that, the gatecrasher mysteriously vanished – the enigmatic figure with a voice but an unknown identity. With the assistance of a side door, he was discreetly led out of the room and into a lobby, successfully achieving his disruptive objective before swiftly disappearing forever. There was no necessity for him to linger, as his mission had been triumphantly fulfilled. Furthermore, it would soon become evident to those present in the room that he was not simply a fame-seeking troublemaker seeking to incite chaos for online recognition, but rather a genuine boxer. Yes, an authentic boxer, akin to the caliber of Whittaker.
It is truly refreshing and commendable to witness a boxer, in this modern digital era, make the effort to attend another man’s press conference in person instead of resorting to online harassment like so many others in the boxing community. It’s remarkable to see individuals who are willing to go the extra mile, demonstrating an old-school approach amidst a predominantly digital world.
Later, we even got his name: Ezra. Ezra something. The surname would have to wait. It would have to wait, that is, until a better phone signal allowed BoxRec.com to load on my phone. Until then, just for fun, I tried to recall all the famous Ezras I knew. Pound; poet. Koenig; musician. Miller; actor. In boxing terms, Sellers was the only one coming to mind, though it could not be him for he sadly died in 2013.
No, this Ezra was a voice and a name new to us all. Ezra Arenyeka. That was his name. Or, to give him his full title: Eworitse Ezra Arenyeka. Born in Nigeria, but based in Sale, we all discovered, at pretty much the same time, that he was a 28-year-old known as “African King” who currently held a record of 12-0 (10), hence his unwavering confidence. He had fought in Britain once before, against Mohamed Cherif Benchadi in 2022, but had campaigned mostly in Nigeria, with the odd appearance in Ghana, Holland, and Colombia.
That afternoon, a few of us were asked if we would be interested in interviewing him.
“Who?”
“Ezra. He’s outside.”
Still unsure whether he was a boxer or not at this stage, never mind whether one of repute, I sensed the majority of people offered this opportunity politely turned it down. Boxing News certainly did, if just to make a stand: don’t feed the birds; don’t pay any mind to attention-seekers. Or something like that.
And yet, despite the belief that refusing him extra attention was the right thing to do, there remained a far greater belief that Ezra Arenyeka had played a blinder and that the last laugh would ultimately be his. Indeed, when watching him go about his work I was reminded of the time Mahmoud Charr – then “Manuel” – did something similar at a press conference at Upton Park following David Haye’s fifth-round stoppage of Derek Chisora in July 2012. That night, as Charr approached Haye at the top table, the reaction had been very much the same. Who is this man? What is he doing here? Why should Haye fight him next? Yet, regardless of all that uncertainty, the approach worked. Suddenly, without beating anybody of note, and despite the fact nobody knew his name, Charr, the so-called “Diamond Boy”, was booked to fight Haye that September. It probably would have happened, too, that fight, had Haye not found a more entertaining and marketable circus act in the form of Tyson Fury not long after the Charr fight had been signed.
On June 15th, Arenyeka will finally have the opportunity to prove himself at Selhurst Park. He will face Ben Whittaker, the former amateur star whom he boldly confronted during a press conference at a London hotel. This unexpected altercation has turned their upcoming light-heavyweight fight into a highly anticipated event, adding significance to Whittaker’s early professional career. It’s especially impressive considering that, at the time of Arenyeka’s outburst, nobody knew for sure if he was a professional boxer.
