I have enough self-awareness not to delude myself into thinking that a decorated, multimillionaire athlete would bother reading an article written about him by an anonymous journalist from another country and, having read it, would actually be influenced by its content. Nevertheless, I have decided to write this open letter to Anthony Joshua anyway, because in life I have never been able to stop myself from doing what I believe is right simply because achieving a result or gaining something from it seems impossible. So here I am once again, lance in hand, charging at yet another windmill.
Dear Anthony,
As you may well imagine, you are not exactly held in the highest regard by my fellow countrymen. Many of them have never forgiven you for that 2012 Olympic final in London, when you denied our representative Roberto Cammarelle the gold medal after a highly controversial decision.
I am not one of them. I too believe that Roberto deserved to be declared the winner that night (although I have seen worse injustices), but I am well aware that you were not the one pressing the buttons on the scoring machines. I also consider your reaction in the final round remarkable, given the huge disparity in experience between you and your opponent.
I have appreciated and admired many aspects of your career. I took my hat off to you for choosing to face a legend of world boxing like Wladimir Klitschko after just 18 professional fights and with such a limited amateur background. I was left speechless when I watched you get back to your feet after being dropped by a right hand that could have flattened a rhinoceros, only to go on and win the fight spectacularly. I also admired your firm determination to demand immediate rematches after your defeats to Andy Ruiz and Oleksandr Usyk, despite the many people advising you to take alternative routes.
What I like most about your sporting journey, however, is something else entirely: the message you have managed to communicate to the world through your actions inside the ring — the message that redemption is possible, and that it is possible to rise again after adversity.
You did it once by leaving behind the turbulent events of your youth, a period during which you had several run-ins with the law, and eventually reaching the top of the world. You did it again more recently, finding the strength to return to the ring after a dramatic event that would have driven most ordinary people into despair and isolation.
The reason I am addressing you today is that, in my opinion, you have an opportunity to make one more gesture worthy of a true champion — a gesture that would strengthen our faith in humanity and convince us that, in life, contrary to what cynics and disillusioned people claim, money does not always call the shots.
As you know, your team, Tyson Fury’s team and several other parties involved in organizing your long-awaited showdown are currently locked in intense negotiations. The latest developments, according to what has emerged in the media, seem to suggest that the fight will take place in the United States, with Madison Square Garden in New York currently in pole position to host the event.
Apparently, this is what Netflix wants, as it intends to take advantage of the occasion to increase the number of its U.S. subscribers. Apparently, this is what Dana White wants, as he intends to use your name and Tyson Fury’s to establish himself fully within the boxing world and is eager to assume a leading role in organizing the event. Apparently, this is also what Turki Alalshikh, the event’s main financier, wants.
There is, however, one final party, no less important than those just mentioned, whose interests are in direct conflict with the American option. That party is the British boxing public, which would see a fight they have been waiting for for at least a decade snatched from right under their noses. They would be denied the opportunity to attend it in person (unless they were willing to shoulder the enormous expense of traveling to the United States) and would even be forced to stay up until the middle of the night to watch it on Netflix from behind a screen.
Dear Anthony, British fans helped make you the man you are today. Your fists obviously played a substantial role too, but without the affection of your people, without those packed stadiums, without the contagious and overwhelming enthusiasm that accompanied you every step of the way, you would not have reached the same heights or earned the same fortunes. And I am convinced that you know this.
You have felt the affection of your fans while walking the streets of British cities. You felt it as you made your way toward the rings where you fought your battles, cheered on by delirious crowds lining your path. You felt it more than ever through the countless messages of support that reached you after your personal ordeal. Today is the time to “give something back.”
Today is the time to take a firm and decisive stand. Today is the time to publicly declare: “I’m not going to spit in the face of the people who have loved me this much. The fight against Fury will take place in the UK, or it won’t happen at all.” Today is the time to tell Mr. White, and everyone else who keeps insisting that the fight will go wherever the money goes, that there are things more important to consider.
And if that means yet another cancellation of an event that has come so close to happening so many times, we will have to come to terms with it. You could close the circle by facing another great name from your era who is firing the last shots of his career, such as Deontay Wilder, who fought his most recent bout in England. Or you could even retire without regrets, having preserved a bond with your fans that deserves to be valued more highly than money.