
BOXING is well-nigh unique in the way that it has and continues to throw up fighters so popular that they transcend the sport to attain the status of folk hero.
This is a phenomenon of which no other individual sport can boast, precisely because, unlike any other individual sport, boxing is a sport of the working class. And being such, a given fighter’s exploits in the ring afford its working-class public the vicarious and self-reinforcing thrill of the glory that they are denied amid the daily grind and stresses of life as appendages to the machine.
To be working-class is to be oppressed by forces so invisible that you can easily become putty in the hands of a culture industry that’s in the business of sowing false consciousness. It’s how they control us, how they successfully convince enough working-class voters to tick the box marked Conservative at election time — a box which in truth should be marked “self-harm.”

In recently published book Baddest Man, Mark Kriegel revisits the Faustian pact at the heart of Mike Tyson’s rise and the emotional fallout that followed, writes JOHN WIGHT

As we mark the anniversaries of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings, JOHN WIGHT reflects on the enormity of the US decision to drop the atom bombs

From humble beginnings to becoming the undisputed super lightweight champion of the world, Josh Taylor’s career was marked by fire, ferocity, and national pride, writes JOHN WIGHT

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