SCOUR the annals of heavyweight boxing since Mike Tyson departed the sport and you’ll be hard pressed to find a fight with a backstory as compelling as the one accompanying the championship contest between former lineal champion Tyson Fury and current WBC champion Deontay Wilder, scheduled for 12 rounds at the Staple Centre in downtown Los Angeles tonight.
Fury, as anyone who’s maintained even a casual interest in the sport in recent years knows, is not a fighter given to moderation. Neither in nor out of the ring has the 6’9” 30-year-old switch-hitting giant ever gone about his business with the quiet robot-like professionalism of a man whose every word is scripted and configured at the behest of managers, advisers and a PR machine with a beady eye on marketability.
Instead, where the self-styled Gypsy King is concerned, the crash, bang, wallop approach has never been better served, even though it has cost him dearly in the past.
SYLVIA HIKINS recommends a fascinating, revealing, superbly acted evening of theatre
When Patterson and Liston met in the ring in 1962, it was more than a title bout — it was a collision of two black archetypes shaped by white America’s fears and fantasies, writes JOHN WIGHT


