For a moment, heavyweight boxing made sense. Tyson Fury, the (allegedly) six-foot-nine âGypsy King,â was simply the greatest heavyweight boxer alive, and perhaps the best who had ever lived. Triumphant after three winsâone of which was technically a draw, but threeâover the hardest puncher in heavyweight history, what more was there to see? If Fury could pulverise the WBC champion Deontay Wilder (aka the Bronze Bomber), then surely he was alone at the top.
So, Fury embarked on a victory tour, rehashing a closed rivalry with an ageing Derek Chisora at the NFLâs Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. The bout ended in a tenth-round technical-knockout win for the champion, Furyâs third win over Chisora. Fury didnât care. He cared so little that he booked his next fight against a man who had never boxed professionally in his lifeâformer heavyweight world champion of the UFC mixed-martial-arts league, Francis Ngannou.
