At the annual General Meeting of the British Boxing Control Council on May 24, 1967, it was decided to introduce two fresh weight activities to the British professional boxing.

Over the past 58 years, there have been only eight weight classes, each of which had a Lonsdale belt and a British title as its final award. However, it has been recognized for a long time that there are many professionals whose fighting weight fell between two classes.

For example, the gap between lithe and seriousness was 12 pounds, and many men were too ponderous for a lithe class and too tiny for reasons. The same applied to men whose fighting weight was about 11 stones. At ZGM, it was found that the purpose of two additional classes was to provide “two consecutive duels as attractions, while these boxers between the scales would not have to leave their natural pounds to fight for titles.”

The fresh selected classes were in 9. 4 pounds and for 10, and were named Junior-Featherlight Libra and Junior-Welterwagtht. Boxing messages questioned the need for the former, stating that “there are three burdens in nine pounds now, while there is a gap of 13 pounds between Heelter and the center.” Skepticism was justified as the introduction of these classes, at this particular time, when there were so few lively professionals in the game, it turned out to be a failure. The division in the weight of juniors had a historical affair for fans of British struggle, because Jack Kid Berg, one of our greatest world champions, won his title in this weight in 1930 and although the division was not recognized in Great Britain, he became a national hero because of this success.

When BN published the first grades of fresh classes in January 1968, only five men were listed in Munior-Featherlight. They were Jimmy Anderson, Brian Cartwright, Jimmy Revie, George O’Neill and Hugh Baxter. Only seven men were replaced in Junior-Welweight, with Vic Andreetti and Des Rea at the top. Over the next two years, three British masters were baptized with two weights. Jimmy Anderson won the title of Munior-Featherlight weight on February 20, 1968, when he detained Jimmy Revie in nine rounds in Royal Albert Hall. Then Anderson defended his title against Brian Cartwright, whom he overtook over 15 years, and against Colin Lake, whom he detained in seven, thus winning the Lonsdale belt. In Junior-Welter there were two masters from Vica Andreetti, who won Vic Andreetti, and then Andreetti wins his return almost exactly a year later, again at points. Andreetti then defended his title, knocking REA on the fourth in October 1969.

Until 1970, the total number of junior-light boxers in the BN ranking fell to one, Anderson and people with a greater weight to four. It was obvious that the fresh classes were a complete failure. They did not attract a significant number of professionals to compete and did little to bring benefits to promoters, because the championship lacked great traditions and romance of eight “normal” scales. At AGM of the Management Board in 1970, both divisions were quietly rejected.

Three years later, there was a more successful introduction of the lithe and lightweight division, which are still competed, though under different names. There are currently 15 weight classes recognized by the board, and together with over 1000 lively professionals there are many people willing to fight and many good competitions. It is a pity that Anderson, Rea and Andreetti are now largely forgotten, just like the titles they fought for. The commitment and determination that they showed to win these titles do not differ from what all masters, past and present show, on all scales.

In the 10th round David Haye He stood in a neutral corner. He rested the gloves on two tight lines coming from the post. He had to get up. He sent countless blows to his head, his cube collapsed under him, his right leg disappeared. It was a struggle to get up, not to mention the fight. In real pain, a losing to a man he did not think of being able to beat him, Haye looked at the crowd howling around him. He could give up. He could call the time at the end of the sixth round when his leg gave way. He could give up during the impact he took in the next rounds. He could give up now. Instead, he turned to Tony Bellew to get off, to meet him and lose the fight.

It wasn’t supposed to develop that. Haye was larger, much more powerful, well -established weight. Bellew, when he called David Haye, was a talkative world champion, who certainly bit more than he could chew. The almost universal expectation was that Haye would knock out his antagonist. Bellew is not evenly a model of the politically correct virtue, but the low Jibes Haye that they would be Tony’s “last days” and so on, they were all the more distasteful, because he actually entered this competition with all the advantages. Fear was that he would hurt Liverpudlian.

Haye seemed no doubt. But he started the fight wild. From the first round he was decreasing massive arrows from the grille, missing Bellew. Its range and time were issued. Tony replied with his left hook, who rejected David on his heels for a moment. It could have instilled some respect. In the first half of the fight, Haye became more measured. He cut Bellew with almighty left hooks and stunning right. Liverpudlian remained patient, wanting to remain clear and counteracting when he could. Indeed, Bellew mixed up many, simply reaching the sixth round.

Then Haye suffered an injury. He slipped and it was immediately clear that something was wrong. He got crazy, worried on the whole face. Bellew rushed after him when the London’s drew himself. He finally put him down. David just got off the canvas at judge Phil Edwards from eight. He survived the round round, but finished shaking his head in the bell.

“In my head I thought I would be hit by a bus. And you know what, I was going to get up and ride,” said Bellew. “I did what I had to. It’s just crazy.”

Haye’s own fight persecute him. He suffered. The Londonian fought for the seventh round, hanging on ropes for balance. Bellew poured blows, hammering into Haye. But then he couldn’t finish it. The former heavyweight world champion survived the punishment, taking these hits. He fought, crawling on the ropes in the eighth round, cutting the reckless Bellew with the left hook, which he moved. But David had to hit his hands, he couldn’t twist his whole body for his shots. Tony returned to him, cut his right hand hitting down. Haye consumed them when Liverpudlian apparently began to hit.

“I was just waiting for my second wind to start,” said Bellew. “I was absolutely exhausted. I was blowing, I gave him a immense barrier to six, because he was hurt and disappeared. I don’t even know how many times he went down. I spent and just waited for the second wind to appear.”

In the ninth round, standing against a greater man, Bellew caught air. Haye, getting away from the ropes to the center of the ring, somehow managed to release his right hands. However, these were desperate efforts, looking for one blow to save the victory, which, to the center of the fight, were once inevitable. But it wasn’t. In the 10th round Bellew once again hit more free. He finished the session by landing one two and then on the left. Haye was going on. But he wouldn’t give up.

“I looked at David and said,” Stop now, “Bellew said. “Please, stop”. I’m not here to hurt people. “

The end had to come, not before time. In the 11th round, inexplicably taking into account his ruined leg, Haye threw forward to hit Bellew’s head. But Liverpudlian returned to him, drumming. The detained attacked forced Haye to Lin. Bellew will throw himself on the hooks, and the weight of the blows led David through the bands. Haye had to fall over and painfully back to the ring. His corner finally saw enough, and coach Shane McGuigan threw a towel. The finish came at 2-16. David Haye was humiliated.

But for a man who notoriously lost his loss in Vladimir Klitschko to the injured feet, Haye, he was generous in failure. He raised Tony’s arm in victory and did not justify. The next day he would have the surgery of a broken Achilles tendon, but he said: “Tony was a great warrior. That’s what it went wrong. I was wonderful, I felt good in the fight.”

“I did not expect that he would have a chin and the durability he had. I gave my best. My best was not good enough,” he continued. “I’ve never fought before. And if the fans want to see it again, I would like to do it again.”

However, this is a grave injury, from which he must recover, at the age of 36, at the end of his career, which was almost circumscribed by shoulder operating a few years ago. If this is the last appearance of David Haye in the boxing ring, then at least after this show of slow dignity it is redeemed.

Tony Bellew has already reached more than the most considered possible. The WBC world champion in Cruiser was simply a stunning victory in massive weight, as unlikely as we saw in the British ring.

“This circus will follow me now,” Tony said without enthusiasm. “I did what I had to do,” Bellew continued, emotions heard in his voice.

“I’m far from Rocky. I’m an ordinary guy. Whoever simply can’t give up. I can’t withdraw.”

Nowadays, it seems that there is a trend towards celebrities. With the creation of the YouTube star, supported by some television and media personalities, which also want to break into a professional game, most would think that this is a contemporary phenomenon. In the history of boxing, however, there were similar cases, and Edwin John is one of them.

Edwin John was always accounted for from Chelsea and in the early 1930s he was a very promising medium. Chelsea for many years has been a pressing of the London Bohemical elite and Father John [pictured above right with Edwin centre] He was the leading figure of this free, artistic and unconventional movement. He was also the most celebrated and best paid painter of his time and regularly transported Edwin and his siblings in the countryside dressed like gypsies and in conventional caravan. No wonder that after Edwin’s maturing, he will be attracted to a similarly unconventional calling. He chose boxing and this was very annoyed by his father, who wanted him to go to art school.

As a son of such a known public figure, Edwin’s boxing career from the very beginning aroused the interest of the press. His coach was Johnny Thomas of Clerkenwell, the Pro more than 150 competitions were experienced, who knew the game for Inside Out, and Johnny turned the raw novice into a very promising warrior in the blink of an eye. It is not surprising that John made his debut in Paris, the center of Bohemianism, in February 1931 and immersed a draw with a local boy in six -handed. When he returned to Great Britain, he joined forces with Thomas and six months later, after a disaster course at smaller art points, he was ready to debut in Great Britain. He made his base at Croydon and fought most of his early competitions.

His opponent of competition number two was Ted GilesCroydon demanding man. Giles was a veteran of over 30 competitions, including over 12 and 15 rounds, and he was the best performer in London Lesser Londer Londer Lander Malle Halls, but Newborn Edwin stopped him for eight. The next month, John repeated the feat, this time over 15 rounds, and soon boxed in the main places, including Blackfriars Ring and Royal Albert Hall. In the ring he spoke experienced Australians, Leo Wax, and then underwent a 12-round draw with the Master of Eastern Counties, Seaman Harvey. Although his father hated his involvement in sport, he participated in some Edwin’s competitions to support him. In 1932, Edwin began to look as if he could be a threat at the championship level and after throwing Jacek Strongbow Hartlepool in four rounds in the Royal Albert Hall, then he fought with two men at the peak of the British medium weight division.

The first of them was Jack Hyams from Stepney, an outstanding talent and BN report to their competition, over 15 rounds at Royal Albert Hall, said that “Hyams has much more experience, in English and American, and his additional knowledge enabled him to overcome the simpler hit of the artist-Boxer. “Later Hyams became the champion of the southern region in both the middle and lightweight massive, and in 1937 he turned the title of British medium.

John had the courage to climb the ring with the powerful Jock McAvoy. This turned out to be his last competition and it was an unpleasant experience all the time, and Rochdale Tearaway chose him before judge Jimmy Wilde entered after six rounds.

After 18 competitions, which only four, Edwin John settled into a more appropriate calling, turned one canvas into another and was a known water supply. He died in 1978 at the age of 73.