By Mark Baldwin
“It’s a shit business,” Les McQueen, once of Crème Brulee, uttered more than once in that incredibly dark world that was The League of Gentlemen.
The fictional band Crème Brulee, had a brief period of fame. One hit wonders, and the Eurovision stage was their only claim of grandeur. The band had long since split. McQueen was drifting. He wanted his old life back. He was lost without it. His whole identity was seemingly dependent on what had long since gone.
That all too brief, fleeting success left McQueen wanting more. He couldn’t let go of his past. McQueen was given renewed hope of a big revival. His former bandmates came into town. A small-time pub gig, they didn’t recognise him. They said they were going back on tour.
He brought the old Bay City Rollers-like attire out of hibernation. He was happy again. He had found what had been missing all these years. But it was all a scam. There was no comeback. McQueen was conned out of his redundancy to help fund the supposed big relaunch. His one last shred of hope and pride now taken away from him. This time, permanently. The industry had now taken everything from him. Another broken promise. Undoubtedly one of many.
There is something rather sad and depressing about many of the fictional characters in that truly wonderful series. But the dark humour often masks the hidden depth of the residents of Royston Vasey.
In many ways, boxing is akin to that world, especially in the mind of Les McQueen. Boxing is indeed a shit business. The deeper you delve, the more you realise exactly what it is. As I often say, the best stories are the ones nobody will ever hear.
Expensive lawyers often find a way of hiding the truth and preserving fragile reputations. No matter how bad you think the business side of the sport is, the reality is that it is much worse.
In recent times, I have interviewed Heather Hardy and Doina Costin. Two fighters that have, in different ways, left their mark on me. A long brutal career has taken its toll on Hardy. An incredibly tough warrior who gave too much. Boxing, in many ways, has taken practically everything.
Costin is at the other end of her career. A fighter who came to England from Moldova in search of a better life. She found boxing. Won her professional debut in February. But she can’t sell enough tickets to get another fight.
One fight went without reward in May. Another planned for next month looks like it’s going the exact same way. “I don’t know how much longer I can put my body through this,” Costin told me. At least Les McQueen had a past to look back on. Costin and many others are fighting just to have that.
It’s difficult to work out why some fighters actually persist in what they do. The never-ending grind of training. The constant pounding that the mind has to endure. When they do fight, most only earn a pittance. If anything.
Has there ever been a sport that takes so much and gives so little back? At least, in the majority of cases.
Why do they put themselves through it? The former world bantamweight champion Nina Hughes has struggled for fights in recent times. She knows the other side of the sport better than most.
Cherneka Johnson finally gets her hand raised following fight against Nina Hughes
“There’s just something about the buzz of the sport. It’s never been about the money for me as boxing doesn’t pay much for women. It’s more about the sense of achieving and winning titles,” Hughes says of why she still fights.
“There’s something about the sport that’s hard to give up even with all the stress. I love sparring, and I love the training and actually fighting.”
“Because I’m addicted.” Natasha Jonas told me why she still fights on for even more glory. Jonas has achieved plenty. She could quite easily walk away and be extremely proud of her achievements.
“All the time,” when I asked Jonas if she ever thought was it all really worth it.
“The highs are just so high. But there are times in the changing room before a fight when if someone would open the door and let me run away, I would. But when they say it’s time, you’re on, it’s that adrenaline rush. It’s that what I am addicted to.
“It’s like an addition. I have been retired before, and it’s too hard to replicate that elsewhere. You miss it. You can’t get that same feeling. There is a loss of identity when it’s not there anymore. You go from being Tasha the Olympian and the world champion to just being Tasha.
“I like the fact that I don’t know my limits. The only way I will find what my limits are is if I keep pushing them and keep testing them. One day, I will find my limit and then know I can’t do it anymore.
“People forget that the likes of me and Nina have been boxing for a long time, and we never got paid for a very long time. We had to fund ourselves and claim expenses back when we first started boxing for England. So boxing used to cost us money.
“It was great when we got onto the GB Boxing set-up and started to get paid, but it was four or five years before that happened. It is about the money because we are prizefighters, but it is not all about the money. Some fights morally, I just wouldn’t do. If boxing was all about the money, I would have retired a long time ago.”
Chantelle Cameron has seen so many highs and lows in her career. The former undisputed world super-lightweight champion has had to fight many things in her boxing life. A story of resilience and perseverance if ever there was one.
“Yeah, there have been plenty of times in my career when I questioned myself on whether it’s worth it. But then I have to remember how far I’ve come through many trials and tribulations, and I’m still here fighting. Having that self-belief of knowing my capability and knowing I will make it to where I want keeps me going. Sometimes you get blindsided by the negatives and have to remind yourself how much you love the sport and what you do.
“What keeps me going is wanting to achieve everything I set myself out to achieve and retire on my terms, feeling fulfilled with what I can achieve in my career. Knowing I’ve done it my way and nothing has been given or had the easy options,” said Cameron.
Jasmine Zapotoczna
Jasmina Zapotoczna was not so long ago thinking of walking away. But the super-flyweight hopeful finally got the call she had been waiting for. Two fights under the Matchroom bright lights drastically changed the course of her career. An upset win over the previously unbeaten Maisey Rose Courtney has now earned Zapotoczna a shot at the European title.
“Boxing has always demanded relentless hard work, unwavering dedication, and unbreakable commitment. Throughout the years, I never lost sight of the goals I set for myself even when the journey was tough, Zapotoczna says of those hard times.
“On those bad days when giving up seemed tempting, I reminded myself of that fierce desire to fight that I felt during my very first training session. It’s that passion that kept me going, pushing through the struggle, round after round. After all, I have no doubt it was worth it. I would never change anything.”
Lauren Parker had a European super-flyweight title to her name. But fights are still hard to come by. She’s had to fight through the basic economics of her trade.
“Winning the European title is my crowning achievement and a moment I cherish, even though it came with its own set of challenges,” Parker told me. “I had to raise £20,000 to host that fight at York Hall without any televised platform. It’s frustrating to see some boxers get opportunities that I haven’t, especially considering I didn’t earn anything from the biggest fight of my career so far. There are times when I struggle with the mental toll of this reality.
“Boxing has been an incredible journey for me, filled with ups and downs, stress, and achievements that lift you to cloud nine. During those tough, stagnant times when I’m grinding day in and day out, I often find myself questioning if it’s all worth it.”
But boxing has given Parker and others something to grasp hold of. The sport has made her. It might even have saved her.
“As a young girl, I often struggled to stick with new hobbies, never committing fully. Boxing has transformed me into the person I am today, and I’m grateful to have found this sport. I firmly believe that hard work pays off. I trust that my time will come, and someone beyond my team, management, and family will recognize my potential. But if it doesn’t happen, I can take solace in knowing I gave it my all and left no stone unturned, allowing me to move forward in life after boxing with pride in my efforts.”
Despite everything the sport throws at them, Jonas, Cameron, Zapotoczna, Hughes, Parker, and many others still fight on. It gives them their identity. It gives them hope. Maybe they are or feel like a lesser person without boxing in their life. It is, as Jonas says, an addiction. Maybe that’s why we all come back for more, even when we all know it really is a shit business.
Boxing has many similarities to Royston Vasey. A parallel world where nothing is ever quite what it seems. Les McQueen cut a sad, pathetic-like figure when his last remaining hope was extinguished. Fighters fight on because they chase what McQueen wanted. Who are we to question why they do it? They just do.
