
There is nothing more political than the tired mantra that sport and politics don’t mix. It is a mantra spouted by those who operate on the basis of see no evil and hear no evil, just so long as the money keeps rolling in, and is a recipe for acquiescence in the status quo no matter the injustice or oppression or brutality that such a status quo enshrines and involves.
Probably more than any other sport, boxing has been a consistent and constant barometer of prevailing social mores, political conditions and cultural values in any given space and time. The careers of Jack Johnson, Joe Louis and Muhammad Ali, to name three prominent examples, were saturated in the politics of their respective eras, as was Barry McGuigan’s on this side of the Atlantic, with the legacies they established and left behind all the more significant and enduring as a consequence.
Whether or not Anthony Joshua’s legacy is permanently trashed by agreeing to make Saudi Arabia the location of his highly anticipated rematch against Andy Ruiz Jr it’s still too soon to say. But it is undeniably tarnished by it. More importantly the reputation of heavyweight boxing, already damaged due to recent drug scandals, is tarnished by it.

Mary Kom’s fists made history in the boxing world. Malak Mesleh’s never got the chance. One story ends in glory, the other in grief — but both highlight the defiance of women who dare to fight, writes JOHN WIGHT

The Khelif gender row shows no sign of being resolved to the satisfaction of anyone involved anytime soon, says boxing writer JOHN WIGHT

When Patterson and Liston met in the ring in 1962, it was more than a title bout — it was a collision of two black archetypes shaped by white America’s fears and fantasies, writes JOHN WIGHT

In the land of white supremacy, colonialism and the foul legacy of the KKK, JOHN WIGHT knows that to resist the fascism unleashed by Trump is to do God’s work