The British Boxing Board of Control probably couldn't believe its luck this past week as all attention focused on the battle to persuade the Home Office that Mike Tyson should be allowed enter Britain so that he could prove he was a risk to no-one, except Julius Francis, who he fights in Manchester on Saturday week.
Lucky because the focus of attention was taken off their decision to allow Barry Jones to fight again, despite the fact that a scan in 1998 revealed that the Welsh fighter had sustained brain damage in the course of his career. When the scan showed that two membranes in his brain had separated by 0.2 mm Jones was stripped of his licence to fight.
Distraught by the verdict Jones promptly sought a second opinion on the scan which confirmed that he had, indeed, suffered brain damage but claimed that his "vital functions would not be impaired" if he fought on. That was good enough for the BBBC who returned his licence, armed with which he will fight Brazilian Acelino Freitas, one of boxing's most ferocious punchers, we are told, in Doncaster tonight for the vacant WBO world flyweight title.
"What I saw on that scan is down to boxing," admitted Jones, in an interview with The Telegraph earlier this week. "But if you are a fighter you're going to get punched in the head. I could end up slurring my words more than I should - I knew that when I started, but professional boxing is my choice. Sooner or later I am going to get hit," he said. "At some point Freitas will land the perfect shot - only then will I know what's going to happen."
As Brendan Ingle, former trainer of Naseem Hamed, once put it: "I tell all my boys that boxing is the only sport that can legally kill you, but you can only tell them, you can't make them listen."
The same paper quoted Professor Gareth Roberts, a biotechnology expert who conducted pioneering research into the link between injuries suffered by boxers and Alzheimer's Disease. "This is a very risky thing for this boxer to do," he said. "Evidence shows that the damage done to the brain in boxing is cumulative. And what is described here (in Jones' case) is traumatic brain damage - each time he is hit it is going to get worse."
In 10 years' time - by which time no-one in boxing will even remember his name - we could return to ask Jones if the fight was worth it, but there's a good chance, by then, we'd struggle to understand his response because he'd be slurring his words more than he should.
That, then, was the important boxing story of the week - the BBBC's failure to protect a fighter from himself and his own desperation to make a few desperately needed quid - and not the wearisome saga over whether the king of the freak show, Mike Tyson, had the right to enter the UK, when the same country never had any problem admitting Don King, amongst others, the man who kicked to death a friend who owed him $600.
The decision, on the grounds that a few Manchester businesspeople would be out of pocket if Tyson was barred from the UK, was, at least, good news for Julius Francis (29 fights, lost seven), who had sent a pitiful letter to London's Labour Mayoral candidates, pleading with them to drop their objections to allowing the convicted rapist entry past immigration at Heathrow.
"I am 35, and have a criminal past. Like Mike Tyson, I too have spent time in prison, but I have turned myself around in the only form I know how - by hard work and dedication to my career in boxing," he wrote.
"This is my golden opportunity to clear my backlog of debts and a chance to buy a home for my girlfriend and newly-born baby. If Tyson is not allowed to enter the country I will lose a lot of money, with expenses already having been laid out for training. I really do believe I can win the contest, and have prepared a great deal and at great expense, taking no short cuts. Instead of setting myself up to go forward, the cancellation of this fight will set me back."
Francis got his wish - the fight goes ahead and he will collect a purse of £350,000, the biggest, by some distance, of his career. He believes he can beat Tyson and go on to greater things. His manager, Frank Maloney, says he believes that too - that's same manager who has sold the advertising space on the soles of his fighter's boots for £20,000.
An angry Tyson (world's against me, and all that tosh) pummels a game Francis to the floor, at which point the soles of his boots are visible to the cheering crowd in the Manchester Arena and the whooping viewing public on Sky Sports and beyond.
Happy sponsors ("Yes! We can see our logo on the soles of his boots as his pole-axed body lies on the floor of the ring. £20,000? Cheap at the price!"). Happy Frank Maloney. Happy Julius Francis? Maybe, if his next brain scan shows he'll be alive long enough, in possession of all his faculties, to enjoy his £350,000 purse.
