Twice, Fabio Wardley’s devastating right hand sent Daniel Dubois crashing to the canvas. But then that same right hand — the one everyone, from the corner to the referee, the doctor, and the crowd, desperately wanted to give another chance to shock the world — became the worst enemy of the fighter from Ipswich. Because in waiting for that right hand, which never came again, those who had the duty to stop the fight exposed Wardley to an outright massacre.
The setting was Manchester’s packed Co-op Arena, where the WBO heavyweight world title was on the line — a belt awarded to Wardley after unified champion Oleksandr Usyk declined to face him within the required timeframe. The event was promoted by Frank Warren’s Queensberry Promotions, which manages both main-event fighters.
Before fans had even settled into their seats, Daniel Dubois was already on the floor. A right hook from Wardley clipped him high on the side of the head, producing the kind of whip-like effect that can instantly disrupt a fighter’s balance. It was a classic flash knockdown, the kind from which a boxer recovers quickly, but it undoubtedly put the challenger on alert.
Dubois regrouped effectively in the second round, relying on the fundamentals, first and foremost his left jab. But his momentum was short-lived. In the third round, Wardley caught him again with a heavy combination: a straight left to the chin followed by a right hook to the temple. DDD lost his footing and wisely took a knee.
The two knockdowns did nothing to damage the challenger’s spirit. Dubois continued fighting bravely, taking advantage of Wardley’s extremely vulnerable defense, which left a highway open for his straight punches. Yet the champion absorbed them with astonishing toughness.
Dubois’ jab, occasionally followed by sharp and accurate right hands, gradually became the dominant weapon of the night. The challenger also deserves credit for his footwork. After the mistakes that led to the two knockdowns, Dubois got the message and made Wardley miss a huge number of right hooks by stepping back at exactly the right moment.
From the second half of the sixth round onward, the fight definitively turned into a Chinese water torture for the champion, who suffered a broken nose and was repeatedly struck by brutal shots. Minute by minute, Wardley’s face became a mask of blood, his nose smashed and one eye swelling badly, seemingly on its way to closing completely.
To Fabio’s credit, he never stopped desperately trying to turn the fight around, at times managing to ignite furious exchanges, as he did at the end of the seventh round and in the middle of the ninth. But his power faded as exhaustion set in, while Dubois consistently answered every punch he absorbed.
The massacre continued for several more minutes — all the way into the eleventh round — without anyone among the corner, the referee, or the ringside doctor (who was consulted twice) deciding there were sufficient grounds to stop the bout. Meanwhile, Wardley’s blood was splattered everywhere, from referee Howard Foster’s shirt to the DAZN commentators’ notes. Yet more concerning than the bleeding itself was the champion’s body language.
Whenever Dubois landed full force — and it happened often — Wardley’s eyes would briefly go blank, his legs would wobble, and his entire body would be shaken by the impact before pride, determination, and a warrior’s instinct forced him back into stance to continue what had by then become a senseless battle.
Surely the memory of Wardley’s spectacular knockout wins over Justis Huni and Joseph Parker played a role in the hesitation shown tonight by everyone who had the authority to wave it off. But even assuming the champion still had a tiny chance of landing the fight-ending right hand after absorbing all that punishment, is it really worth risking a man’s life in hopes of hitting the lottery jackpot?
Finally, at least three rounds too late, referee Howard Foster wrapped his arms around Wardley during the eleventh round, rescuing him from yet another prolonged Dubois combination and officially declaring a technical knockout.
Dubois’ team rightfully celebrated their fighter’s triumph with enormous joy, and some observers praised the fight for its spectacle. But let me say, with the honesty I have always tried to maintain on these pages, that boxing did not experience one of its finest days tonight.
Back in 1963, Bob Dylan wrote the bitter song Who Killed Davey Moore, imagining the words with which all the people involved, in different ways, in the tragic death of boxer Davey Moore would deny any responsibility. Referee, crowd, manager, gamblers, journalists, opponent — none of them were to blame, and each had their own reasons for saying so.
Of course, I sincerely hope Fabio Wardley fully and completely recovers from the punishment he took tonight and lives in good health to the age of one hundred. But thinking back to Dylan’s haunting lyrics, I cannot help but feel that when confronted with fights like the one we witnessed, each of us has a responsibility to do something.
For my part, the least I can do is state clearly that spectacle, victory, excitement, and glory do not come before everything else. This time, coach Benjamin Davison and referee Howard Foster failed in their duty, and one can only hope they reflect carefully on their actions.