This was it! The fight the world had been waiting for. The father of all fights. The mother of all beatings. Not since Marvin Hagler and Tommy Hearns’ fight on April 15, 1985, have I seen such a brutal fight between two black pugilists filled with venom, raging against each other. From the word go, it was war. War of two gladiators, each out to prove a point.
Like Tommy Hearns, Anthony Joshua stared down on the shorter Daniel “Dynamite” Dubois who looked a bit vulnerable, but unknown to all, he had kept his secret strategy to himself and was going to explode like Dynamite which is his nickname.
Now, Anthony Joshua is not another Tommy Hearns. They are not in the same weight class. Hearns is in a lower class: a super welterweight who moved up to middleweight to face Marvin Hagler and lost. Whereas Joshua is in the heavyweight class. The class of the legendary Muhammad Ali whose record of winning the World Heavyweight Championship title three times was what Joshua aimed at emulating. If he had beaten Dubois, he would have been at par with Ali in becoming the World Heavyweight Champion thrice. But he failed. And miserably too.
In a way, Ali and Joshua have some things in common. They are not just boxers in the heavyweight class but boxers with Adonis good looks. They are both handsome. And each time they are beaten in the ring, it is women that weep most. Some men do cry too. As a kid growing up, Mike Tyson, then 14, wept the night his hero Muhammad Ali was battered by Larry Holmes, one of the boxers Ali mentored. Such was the pain in the heart of young Mike Tyson that he vowed to take revenge in the ring when he grew up to face Larry Holmes. It was on October 2, 1980 and the young Tyson was watching the fight on closed circuit with his father figure, mentor and trainer Cus D’Amato. On the morning after Ali’s defeat, Cus D’Amato phoned Ali and told him: “I have this young, black kid who is going to be heavyweight champion someday and I want you to talk to him.” He gave Tyson the phone and Tyson told Ali: “When I grow up, I’ll fight Holmes and I’ll get him back for you.”
Seven years later, at age 21, Tyson made a mincemeat of Larry Holmes in the presence of Ali who came to watch the fight and whispered to Tyson just as the fight was about to begin: “Remember what you said—get him for me.” And Tyson finished Holmes emphatically in Round 4.
Back to the night of the Joshua-Dubois fight, it was a spectacle of athleticism, courage, and the raw beauty of human endeavor. The crowd numbering 96,000 were stirred by the ring announcer who announced: “Wembley, are you ready? Let’s get this party started.” First to enter the ring was Triple D: Daniel Dynamite Dubois. His entry was marked by a display of pyrotechnics by some dreadful fire dancers dressed like executioners on a mission to kill. Who would have known or thought that Anthony Joshua would be beaten to stupor from this symbolic acts of this firefighters ushering in the deadly Dubois?
Though he didn’t look intimidating, Daniel Dynamite Dubois, in a way, reminded me of the young, fearsome Iron Mike Tyson, a force of nature unleashed on the boxing world, who dispatched every opposition with ruthless speed, agility and savage brutality. For me, the poignant aspect that fight night was Dubois’ son proudly carrying his father’s boxing belt aloft. It was a powerful statement from a boxer who was so focused, who was so confident, determined not to lose his belt in front of his son. In the words of a commentator, “the sky is the limit for this 27-year-old.”
Now, dressed in a sequined white robe, Anthony Joshua was ushered in with the soundtrack Love Theme from “The Godfather” by Nino Rota and Carlo Savina. It takes a lover of classical and movie theme music to know this. The Wembley crowd was dominantly pro-Anthony Joshua. Eighty-three percent of the crowd believed Joshua was going to win. But they were wrong. We were all proved wrong—including those who betted on Joshua to beat Dubois. Right from the word go, Dubois charged at Joshua like a hungry tiger. He charged and charged looking for something, looking for a blow that would crack Joshua’s face. Joshua threw an overhead shot and missed. In response, Dubois with alacrity aimed his own overhead shot which brought Joshua humiliatingly down on his knee in Round 1. He never recovered. That single blow was the game-changer for Dubois. The referee counted and Joshua was saved by the bell. How Joshua survived that overhead shot is still a marvel. It was thrown with such venom and power that it would have been “goodnight” for any boxer hit with. As Joshua fell on the canvas, my heart fell with him. I felt like crying. I was so disappointed.
Round 2, and the momentum was on the side of Dubois. He came charging, wanting to finish the job. He came with what lawyers call “Dominus litis.” A man fully in control. He was in control of the ring. Dubois was like a man possessed, like a man on steroids. He beat the hell out of our man who was wobbly and yet to recover from the first knockdown. Round 2 belonged to Dubois even though Joshua landed one good shot.
Round 3 was almost even until Joshua got into trouble again, got caught in the ropes, then wobbled down to get a count. Twice in this fight, Joshua had been knocked down! What a tragedy!
One commentator remarked: “Anthony Joshua has got a mountain to climb here.”
Hardly had Round 4 started than Joshua hit the canvas, receiving a standing count. He fell again and the referee ruled it a slip. Dubois began to put more pressure on Joshua. It was a bad night. The blows kept raining on him like bees.
In Round 5, Joshua was sticking out his tongue, taunting someone in the crowd. He must have borrowed a page from Tyson Fury’s act.
Miraculously, Joshua threw a lucky punch that caught Dubois. Was this the turning point? Before you could say Jack Robinson, Joshua was on the canvas again, in torment—one that he didn’t bargain for. Luckily for him, it was for the last time. The referee counted and counted. In the bid to beat the count, Joshua somersaulted like an acrobat. And that was the end, the finale of a night of terrific beating—the mother of all beatings. I cried for Joshua.
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