OVER two weeks on and boxing in Britain is still reeling over the “adverse finding” registered by the Voluntary Anti-Doping Agency (Vada) in a Conor Benn drugs test taken at the beginning of September.

After far too much speculation and hesitation in the days leading up to his scheduled PPV clash with Chris Eubank Jr on October 9, mercifully the fight was postponed by promoter Eddie Hearn at the 11th hour.

This is a man whose reputation, given his unconscionable attempt to push the fight through regardless, now deservedly lies in the gutter.

Making matters all the worse was the picture posted by Chris Eubank Jr on social media on the day of the weigh-in with his top off.

It revealed a fighter who had succeeded in boiling himself all the way down to the 157lbs catchweight, and in doing so would literally have been risking his life if the fight had gone ahead. He looked so utterly depleted and emaciated at the weight.

It is a scandal that poses serious and far-reaching questions as to the sport’s governance, organisation, ethics, and mismanagement on the part of the promoters such as Eddie Hearn, who now exert far too much influence and power. When money reigns, as it does now, the cost to the sport’s soul is unquantifiable.

Taking a broader look, over the past year boxing has been revealed to be less a sport and more a circus in which more or less anything goes as long as it makes money.

The scandal surrounding alleged Irish gangster and international drug dealer Daniel Kinahan’s involvement and participation in the sport at the highest level has yet to be accounted for.

There’s been no review, internal investigation or even a moment’s pause for reflection on the part of those in boxing who were more than happy to deal with a man whom the Irish, US and UK authorities claim has been behind a raft of murders over the past few years.

Tyson Fury, Eddie Hearn, Bob Arum, a list of top pros and champions as long as your arm, all of them went out of their way to try to sanitise Kinhan and promote him as a force for good in boxing.

That is until the DEA intervened to send them scampering for cover like insects after the turning over of a rock.

Speaking of Fury, his reinvention as something of a folk hero is starting to wear thin. His pledge to donate the entire purse from his first fight against Deontay Wilder to build homeless accommodation in Manchester in 2018 turned out to be hot air.

Moreover, his attempt to promote himself as an advocate of mental health and sobriety was belied by the footage of him earlier this year on holiday in the south of France miraculously drunk to the point of having to be physically supported by friends, before trying to kick a taxicab after the driver understandably refused to pick him up.

The negotiations between his own and Anthony Joshua’s team for a highly anticipated domestic clash floundered in a sea of mutual recrimination and blame.

The result is Fury opting to face instead Derek “Del Boy” Chisora on December 3 at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in London.

Not only is this the most underwhelming domestic heavyweight match-up imaginable — what with Chisora a fighter with more miles on the clock than Chitty Chitty Bang Bang — but those mad enough to buy a ticket to attend the fight live in a stadium that has no roof will be risking coming down with pneumonia given the time of year.

As for Anthony Joshua, AJ, here we have a fighter who has more corporate sponsors than sparring partners. He comes over as someone who consults with his PR team before hitting the bathroom for his morning business.

His last outing against Usyk revealed more fragility than ferocity, more hesitation than heat, and afterwards more petulance than pride.

There is talk of him facing a newly rampant Wilder. Given the latter’s brutal first round demolition of Robert Helenius last weekend in Brooklyn, AJ would be well advised to sign the contract in invisible ink to allow for plausible denial come fight night with a no-show in mind.

At this juncture, it has fallen to the Clarissa Shields and Savannah Marshalls of this world to carry the fortunes of professional boxing and provide the sport with a tincture of credibility.

Their barnstorming clash last weekend at London’s O2 fell into the category of a classic, with the mutual respect shown afterwards by both women shorn of the usual self-serving BS that the sport has sadly become used to when it comes to their male counterparts.  

All in all, top flight boxing has taken on the character of a sporting Klondike, wherein the reach for money comes before all else.

The result is that integrity, decency, probity and sportsmanship have been banished from the sport’s vocabulary.

In the process, fans of the sport are being exploited and abused, ridden as if they’ve got saddles on their backs all the way to the bank.

At least Dick Turpin wore a mask.