It was April 30, 2025, when social media went wild as tickets for the rematch between Oleksandr Usyk and Daniel Dubois went on sale: the most coveted crown was at stake: all the heavyweight belts. I grabbed my computer and rushed to buy five tickets for myself, my father, my brother, and two of my closest friends. They’re boxers too, we all fight for the same gym, we train together, and we didn’t hesitate for a second: we were in!
We had been wanting to organize a trip to see Usyk for a while, but in recent years Saudi Arabia had been dominating the scene. So as soon as Wembley was officially announced as the venue, we went crazy. I managed to get five excellent seats; at that point, all we had to do was wait for July 19.
In the meantime, Manny Pacquiao’s return on the same night was announced. It was shaping up to be a truly special weekend! The only downside was the undercard at Wembley, which honestly didn’t match the level of the main event.
Fight day arrived. We landed in London, welcomed by bright sunshine and scorching heat. And of course, what could be our first stop if not a good old pub?
Right away we realized how deeply boxing is felt in England. It might sound like a cliché, but once you’re there, you feel a massive difference compared to our beloved country.
We headed to the stadium: a swarm of people, pure chaos. I had already been to Wembley before, but what I saw on July 19 was on another level. We kept hopping from pub to pub along the way, looking for some gadgets, but guess what: all the merchandise had already sold out, along with the beer, judging by the English fans’ alcohol levels. Ukrainians were there in huge numbers, flags everywhere, the atmosphere was surreal. We split up: some stayed at the pub while I went in early, curious to watch Lapin fight.
I walked up the stairs, headed toward my seat, and saw a man limping from behind who looked oddly familiar. He turned around: it was the legend Roy Jones Jr. He was heading discreetly toward the media section, but I had to stop him for a picture. I still get goosebumps thinking about it; I couldn’t believe it, I felt like a child at the playground for the first time. I greeted the inventor of the famous “leaping left hook” and entered the stadium: beautiful, with an incredible vibe. I sat down to watch Lapin’s bout, but it was so boring I ended up wandering around, chatting with amateur boxers like myself from all over England—actually, from all over the world!
Same story with Okolie vs Lerena: I expected much more. Unfortunately, the champ injured his bicep early in the fight, which ruined his game plan. It was a dull, sleepy bout, but keeping the WBC Silver belt at home was the priority.
Then came the main event. You could feel the shift in the air: the British crowd created a spectacular atmosphere, with all 96,000 people singing “Sweet Caroline”, a song forever associated with Manchester’s own Tyson Fury. We were so close that right next to us they were interviewing the evening’s organizers: boxing’s new Arab tycoon Turki Alalshikh and Frank Warren, founder of Queensberry Promotions.
We turned around: behind us was the ringwalk. Daniel “Dynamite” Dubois entered after the English anthem, and Wembley went wild. I stood up and he was right there in front of me, huge. Then came Usyk, walking in to a modernly operatic “Ave Maria,” his usual style, followed by the Ukrainian anthem. Let me pause here: never in my life had I felt such a powerful presence. I was face to face with Usyk, in awe. He was terrifying, awe-inspiring; his aura was simply beyond anything I’d ever experienced. Incredible.
Then came the most anticipated bell. The rematch began between two very different fighters. A young, hungry, well-prepared Dubois, still fired up over the controversy around the “low blow or not” in their first meeting. Usyk, some said, wasn’t in top shape at 38 and had already gone down (according to those who believed the shot was legal) against the Englishman.
The fight began and Dubois did well, focused, landing early shots. But in front of him stood a far more experienced opponent, a phenomenon. With footwork Dubois couldn’t even read, Usyk took three of the first four rounds. Then something magical happened: Dubois backed Usyk to the ropes, looked determined, hunting the KO, but suddenly the stadium fell silent. Usyk dropped Dubois and won by KO.
What can I say? I’ve run out of adjectives for this man, a fighter, a giant, who is now taking his place in history, claiming all the belts, and the souls of his opponents. It’s all his: the glory, the greatness. He thanked his people, thanked God, his family, consoled his opponent, and walked away. And so did we, off to catch our flight home from an unforgettable experience I’ll carry with me forever. Thank you Wembley, thank you Usyk. Long live boxing.