THE recent tragic and untimely death of Willie Limond at 45 has sent veritable shockwaves throughout the entire British boxing community — and no wonder. For within this proud and redoubtable son of Glasgow beat the heart of a giant and existed the spirit of a rebel.
Limond was a ubiquitous part of Scotland and Britain’s sporting furniture throughout the noughties, during which he participated in some classic encounters against the likes of his close friend and fellow Scot, Alex Arthur, and against Amir Khan, whom he famously put down on the canvas in a pulsating fight at London’s Millennium Dome on an unforgettable night in July 2007 for the lightweight Commonwealth title.
Not satisfied with that, in 2010 Limond flew out to Mexico City to face a bona fide ring legend in the shape of Erik Morales. Nobody gave him a prayer in the lead-up to this fight, but then Willie Limond never needed a prayer, as here was a fighter whose belief in himself was always more than enough to see him through the toughest of challenges.
Against the Mexican legend, Limond elevated himself beyond the grim streets of his native Garthamlock to prove every teacher and every figure of authority who’d ever written him off as a wee boy wrong. Like the bagpipes that introduced him to the crowd, he soared that night in front of arguably the most knowledgeable fight fans in the world, winning them over with the sheer audacity of his performance to the point of being cheered out of the arena, which was an actual bullring, having been initially booed in.
In 2011 he faced Manchester’s Anthony Crolla in Motherwell in what turned out to be another domestic classic, which he lost on points. By now Willie had slotted into the role of gatekeeper, a door through which any serious aspirant to titles and major success had to walk on the way.
This was no easy door.
Former English professional footballer-turned-boxer Curtis Woodhouse found that out when he defended his newly won British super lightweight title against Limond in Glasgow in 2014. The Englishman fought his heart out, but Limond’s ring craft and experience proved decisive and he took the fight and the title by majority decision.
The naysayers who argue that boxing belongs in the dark ages would do well to understand the joy that Willie Limond brought to the world of boxing and the joy which the world of boxing brought to him. A life lived to the full is more to be prized than a life not fully lived. And better, it is said, to live one day as a tiger than a thousand years as a sheep.
The tributes that have poured in in response to Willie Limond’s passing speak their own truth. Loved and respected by all who knew him, admired by those who knew “of” him, Limond was a fighting man who graced the sport of boxing with integrity and uncommon decency.
Willie Limond’s last fight, having decided that retirement was not a word that had any business being in his vocabulary, was fittingly against another Scottish boxing legend, Ricky Burns. It unfolded in September last year, a full 22 years since his pro debut in 1999 against Lenny Hodgkins at the Thistle Hotel in Glasgow.
To watch Willie and Ricky dance one last time was to watch time interrupted. There they were, two veterans of the game, laying it all out to prove that the ring for such men is more sanctuary than savagery.
Regardless of the result it was Scottish boxing that won that night, as at the end they embraced one another like two men celebrating lives lived in service to the one sport that allows sons of the working class to experience the closest thing to a religious experience short of the resurrection.
Alex Arthur recounted in his tribute to Willie Limond his memory of meeting him for the first time. They were just 13 years old, he recalls, and forged then a rivalry which morphed into a friendship that endured right to the end.
Josh Taylor took time out from his preparations to face arch rival Jack Catterall to proclaim that Willie’s death was a “terrible day for Scottish sport.” Anthony Crolla gave a tearful interview, lamenting the passing of his old ring rival, while Curtis Woodhouse could not have been more graceful and generous with his own tribute to the man and his memory.
As for Amir Khan, he took to social media with the following video message: “It's sad news for boxing, he was a great champion, was a great person. We met numerous times after we fought each other and my thoughts are with his family.”
Muhammad Ali was never more right than when he said: “It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe.”
Willie Limond’s shoes were filled with pebbles, yet never once did he stop climbing that mountain. For him the journey was every bit as important as the destination. In a career that saw him hold the EBU European Union super featherweight title in 2004, the Commonwealth lightweight title from 2006 to 2007, the Commonwealth super lightweight title from 2013 to 2014, and the British super lightweight title in 2014, he reached heights that a boy from his background was never entitled to expect.
The fighter may have passed, but the legacy and the legend lives on.
