Banbula baffles binman

Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d write: Staines’ favourite Pole Michael Banbula put in a classy and dominant performance to win a boxing title today. The normally frustrating and awkward journeyman, who had only won eight of thirty-six professional contests before today, really did look impressive against Sheffield binman Carl ‘Born 2 B’ Wild, winning what was billed as the British Masters light-heavyweight belt by a margin of 97-92 on referee Howard Foster’s scorecard.

Such was the away fighter’s dominance (this promotion, staged by Wild’s trainer Glyn Rhodes, was at Sheffield’s Don Valley Stadium) that I made it 100-90. It was at this venue 11 months ago that Banbula (12st 7lbs) registered a narrow one point win over four rounds against Wild (12st 6lbs) and the regular loser was keen to show that it was no fluke.

Right from the first bell, Banbula was completely on top and outdid Wild in every department other than heart which, to be fair, he never had to show. A straight right had Wild over in the first; his left foot slipped from under him but a clean shot was delivered and the count was right. Wild marched forward throughout the bout but was picked off by clean, crisp shots all day.

By the third round, Banbula knew he had his man’s measure and boxed accordingly, with an arrogance which completely belied both his record and previous performances. I gave Wild a share of the sixth when he got through with his only genuine hurtful punch of the fight, a hard right hook. Banbula’s left hand was held quite low throughout and the right was the punch which could have changed things but Wild just couldn’t get off, despite boring forward.

He was very dispirited after the seventh and referee Foster came across to check he was OK. Wild took a lot of shots in the eighth and even more in the ninth as Banbula was positively enjoying himself, putting on a showcase of accurate hitting. I know, I can’t believe it either. No one, perhaps not even Wild himself, would have objected if he’d been pulled out in either of these sessions. One quality the man from Sheffield Boxing Centre has is grit in abundance and he needed every last ounce to get through the last session.

Ten Banbula fans, all of whom looked liked extras in an East European mafia film, chanted ‘Mikhail! Mikhail!’ to cheer their man home. Fair play to Banbula – he put on a fantastic display and is obviously a confidence boxer who should do a lot more than he has done.

Now I’ve covered the main event, I need to get something off my chest. Darlington heavyweight debutant Carl Wilson was stopped in 85 seconds by Sheffield giant Dave Howe. Wilson’s next fight should be against his own manager. This match was, at best, utterly irresponsible. I don’t know who Wilson’s manager is (in his corner he had trainer Paul Hamilton and well known northern manager Mick Marsden) but whoever it is should be ashamed of himself.

Why do I say this? Although we’re all aware that boxing is a man’s sport, etc., debutants need careful handling. Big Dave Howe – a novice himself at 2-1 before today – weighed 19st and stands around 6ft 8in. Wilson (15st 2lbs 10oz) gave away almost four stones in weight and what looked like six inches in height. It didn’t look good on paper, it didn’t look good when the men were brought together and just over a minute in, my fears were confirmed.

Wilson actually started OK and obviously has the basics, delivering a couple of body shots and a half decent left hook to the head. Howe opened up with a combination and Wilson’s face took on a slightly concerned expression. His concern was merited; Howe pinned Wilson into his own corner and opened up again, crashing a straight right home which felled the County Durham man. Referee Foster waved off the action immediately.

What on earth were Wilson’s management thinking? If the chap hasn’t been put off the fight game for life – and who could blame him if he was? – he needs to get someone who’ll look after him.

I raised my eyebrows a bit when I saw the comeback opponent for Sheffield middleweight Lee ‘Brown Sugar’ Edwards. Birmingham’s Max Maxwell can be a bit crude but he’s always fit, strong and game. He recently boxed a draw with Prizefighter winner Prince Arron too. The match was scheduled for four rounds which meant there was little time to shake off any ring rust. In the end, Edwards ended up getting dragged into a scrappy mess with Maxwell and lost 39-38. Referee Foster’s tally was spot on.

The pair shared the first, Edwards (11st 4lbs 8oz) nicked the second and Maxwell (11st 7lbs 8oz) took the last two. Edwards boxed Maxwell’s fight and paid the price. On the few occasions he gave himself some space and boxed off the jab, Edwards looked fine. But he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, sustain it. Back to the drawing board for ‘Brown Sugar’.

Former British title challenger Ross ‘The Boss’ Burkinshaw thought he was going to miss out on today’s action earlier this week. Brummie journeyman Sid Razak pulled out and it’s harder than ever to match the little guys these days. Trainer Glyn Rhodes told Ross to stop shedding the pounds as it was inevitable that if he was going to get a match it would probably be a nine-stoner and as a result, Burkinshaw weighed in today at 9st 2lbs 4oz which is his career heaviest by almost half a stone. Filling the other corner was fellow Sheffielder Daniel Thorpe who scaled 9st 13lbs 8oz.

Now I know Thorpe (23-99-3) only cleverly fiddles about these days but nearly 10st is a long way from Burkinshaw’s fighting weight and Ross isn’t the most elusive target. Burkinshaw paid no mind to this and did his usual, fighting on the front foot at a high pace. His style inevitably means he is left open to counters and Thorpe really did crack him on a few occasions, most notably in the fifth by way of a heavy left hook. I gave this round to Thorpe but Howard Foster, scoring for trainee ref John Latham, disagreed and made it 60-54 to the man from the Rifles regiment.

I didn’t expect much in the show opener from Bradford featherweight Eddie Meskry. His fight against Mansfield-based Latvian Sergey Rozhakmens was only Meskry’s second bout and he lost his first in September last year to serial loser Razak. However, Meskry (9st 0lbs 8oz) acquitted himself well though Rozhakmens (9st 11lbs 2oz) was quite right to be puzzled by the unnecessary streak of spite in the novice.

Meskry displayed a decent range of punches, good footwork and accuracy. He also showed an unfortunate and unnecessary lack of sportsmanship. Rozhakmens (now 2-26-1) went to touch gloves at the end of the first and second sessions and was deliberately blanked both times. When instructed to touch gloves at the beginning of the fourth and last round, Meskry was needlessly aggressive and stupidly fouled his opponent just before the final bell which drew a warning. He wouldn’t return the visitor’s post-bout pleasantries either, at least not that I saw. Maybe he needs to have his ‘game face’ on at all times but he came across badly. He won by a shutout though and looked half-decent.

I’ve saved the best until last. What a cracking small hall undercard fight the crowd were treated to today when York’s Matt Doyle’s topped Sheffield’s Mansoor Walli by a 59-56 margin. The light-middleweight novices gave absolutely everything they had, right from the first bell. Doyle (10st 12lbs) had brought about 20 fans south with him and they roared him all the way to a hard-earned victory. The pair were of similar ability in technical terms but Doyle’s fitness and desire won him the fight. Walli (11st 1lb 4oz) allowed himself to be pinned on the ropes for long patches of the fight and by the third, trainer Rhodes was reading him the riot act, telling him to stand up for himself. His words worked and when he put shots together he had Doyle in trouble but he could not sustain the heroic effort which would have been needed to deter the visitor.

The fifth was one of the best rounds I’ll see all year and it is a testament to Walli’s hear t that, despite being exhausted, he won it. He tried to repeat the trick in a frantic last session but couldn’t quite pull it off. As if we didn’t know he’d given everything, he confirmed it by throwing up into his corner bucket. What a scrap.