The Beltline: Benn-Eubank III and the matter of pretending a dead hamster is still alive for the sake of the kids

And they would have ignored it, too, if it weren’t for these intervening journalists and their monopolies, explains Elliot Worsell.

WATCH Matchroom Boxing’s media workout on Wednesday afternoon, just hours after it was announced Conor Benn had failed a performance-enhancing drug test (for clomiphene), I couldn’t help compare it to the scene that unfolds when a family pet dies and the children are then informed of the tragedy when they get home from school.

Normally, such a situation would be handled with care, with hugs, and with an explanation, and with honesty. Like most things, however, the reaction to it will largely depend on the integrity of the adults involved, as well as how they view their child’s intelligence, which means there are many the possibility that the situation was handled badly, handled, perhaps, the way the fight between Conor Benn and Chris Eubank Jnr was called off on Saturday was handled.

That is, instead of facing the problem honestly and with an apology, parents will instead welcome their children home from school as if it were a day like any other. They would then pretend the hamster was still alive and prolong the game until they could finally replace it with a game that looked similar, feeling no shame at all.

Justice for those tasked with perpetuating the illusion of Benn-Eubank III: Born Rival go ahead (or simply mean whatever), they did a good enough job on Wednesday at workout/wake up. Via YouTube, while sitting down at my desk dejectedly, I watched Darren Barker and Chris Lloyd, presenters for Matchroom Boxing, cover extensively about underweight boxers, none of which made it. events fall into jeopardy, and then interview the two main characters, Benn and 60% of Eubank Jnr, when the pair eventually turn their backs. The truth is that those interviews are more verbal press releases than interviews in any traditional sense, but that’s not the fault of the men involved. (All that is revealed is that Eubank Jnr never received a phone call from Benn, as Benn originally claimed, and that Benn was, by his own reckoning, a “clean warrior.” and “not a good fit.”)

If they could say what they meant, I have no doubt the two presenters would read the same script as everyone else in boxing at two o’clock that day. For then it was clear that the war was dead for Barker and Lloyd, often as optimistic and frenetic, as it was for us. You can hear it in their voices. You can see it in their eyes.

Elsewhere, online, other people have had to say a lot because that afternoon something believable happened and they had a look at it, which, of course, their public needs to know. to listen. This means that, as always, social media has become a gathering place for wacky and impatient saints who suddenly pretend to be interested in a sport that doesn’t really deserve attention. mind and maybe, at the moment, not even their attention. At the time of crisis, there was a great deal of moral outrage from drug-backed fighters (either physical or financial), those with their own skeletons, the trainers involved in drug fraud (with or without arrest), and promoters and managers are likely to behave in exactly the same way as the promoters and managers involved on Saturday if one of their fighters happened to be in the headlines.

In fact, it has become clear and obvious over time that the moral outrage in boxing only exists in moments like these (when something is believable and therefore promises relevance). attention and attention) and is spread only by those who cannot monetize perceived crime or wrongdoing.

It is ironic, given the criticism they regularly receive (I even saw yesterday a member of the boxing fraternity slander them for not asking the “hard questions”), that it is a journalist – yes, an actual journalist – who is running the sport of boxing on Wednesdays, and no one else. The journalist’s name is Riath Al-Samarrai, not because of the story he wrote in Daily mailthere’s every chance we’re all no wiser right now.

Indeed, perhaps the most frightening thing about Wednesday was the feeling that those involved in Saturday’s fight, whether promoters or regulators, acted only once the information regarding the test had been received. Benn’s failed investigation became known to the public (thanks to Al-Samarrai). That in itself covers everything, and if you let it happen, you can reach a whole new level of cynicism, paranoia, and disillusionment. Because if it can happen in this case, why can’t it happen again? Worse still, who can say it hasn’t happened many times in the past? (Keep in mind that this isn’t the first time Al-Samarrai has diligently pursued a PED story involving a high-profile boxer.)

At the time of this writing, I don’t know if Saturday’s fight will continue, and I don’t really care either. Honestly, even if it was signed, safe and engaging, the fight itself – Eubank Jnr vs Benn – did little for me. It’s, in my opinion, a war that should never have happened in the first place, a war where attraction and intrigue are found only in names and contractual handicaps. such as boxing, has become a focal point and a way to sell it. . (Name the two boxers differently and you have what? Not much. Take away Eubank’s sixty percent and you have even less.)

I would also argue that although nostalgia is a popular drug with docility and simplicity, we can do significantly better than Benn-Eubank III, especially the version of it that we do. remaining. That, by Thursday, the day it was cancelled, was dead like the family hamster. It became an ABBA hologram of a war, with everything that ever made it, at best, unique (story, legacy, “Born Rivals”) in a 24-hour space of withdrawal. out of the war completely.

That’s how I saw it: a shell, a corpse, a stuffed animal. Also, many times when I try to understand my motives to watch it, or maybe join the war to report on it (after all for some work), there is certainly an complicity to join now. into something like Benn-Eubank III. To me, doing so even behind a scowl, arms crossed, and plump lips, seemed like permission. It is the willingness to admit it exists; towards it rather than going. Most of all, though, to see it on Saturday, knowing all we know, would feel evil, dirty and awkward, no different than attending a stranger’s funeral.

Perhaps notably, of all the questions that will be answered in the coming days and weeks, the answer that interests me the least is the answer regarding whether Conor Benn is really a fortune teller. clean encouragement or not. For my money, there are much bigger and more important problems than those that have arisen as a result of his positive examination, and I suppose the scarier, more terrifying thing is heard this week from people other than Benn. In fact, if Wednesday happened to prove this: the only thing more problematic and potentially damaging than a dishonest boxer is a dishonest sport, especially when it The sport, not the boxer, is responsible for regulations, penalties, and setting standards.

As for Benn and the ramifications of his alleged offense, only men like Chris van Heerden, a recent opponent of Benn, can really make a judgment on this. He took to social media on Wednesday, shortly after the news of Benn’s failed test, to write: “How can I Not question it (his fight against Benn in April)? Never in my career have I been punched in the chin. Not by Errol Spence or (Jaron) Ennis or any other warrior. “

Other than making accusations, van Heerden is just trying to make sense of things, as we all are. And while I, as I’m sure he is, all for the idea of ​​being innocent until proven guilty, nevertheless, we must still be wary of the brainwashed vest men we believe in. that the logical next step in any failed drug trial is for the accused fighter to have their name cleared instead of, I don’t know, serving an appropriate restraining order for the conduct. their offense.

That campaign – or “case” – started with Benn, you can feel it. What has also happened is that the British Boxing Control Board (BBBofC) has been blamed for spoiling everyone’s fun, despite the fact that it wasn’t the BBBofC trying to run the sport that destroyed everyone. Friday but, alas, an adverse finding in a boxer’s VADA (Voluntary Anti-Doping Agency) test. That, unlike all that was then, is clear, and the only hope now is that the extent of the explosion is not simply a reschedule of a canceled war. In this case, procrastination was not a sufficient form of punishment, nor was it extreme behavior to suck dirt and dead hamsters.