“A circus is like a mother in whom one can confide and who rewards and punishes.” 
Burt Lancaster, Actor, 1913-1994

One of the staple attractions of British boxing’s wandering circus will dance for the public again this weekend. His name is Derek Chisora and though gallant, he is now a depleted fighter. Weary from a decade of tugging at the tether boxing, with her beguiling promise of riches and adulation, ties to its most daring sons. The incessant blows, the sparring, the wins, the losses, the wear and tear of life as a professional athlete has worn away Chisora’s vibrancy, as those punishments always do. Eventually, there will be a reckoning. Repayment on the debt will be necessary. Passage to retirement never tempts ageing fighters as much as the whisper to carry on. There is always another pay day, another town, another spotlight. A fighter’s diminishing returns, the missed cues, the forgotten lines, are inconvenient truths all vested parties routinely ignore.

Although the soon to be 39-year-old boxing out of choice not economic necessity is a reassurance, his continuance remains troubling and poses a elevated risk for him and the sport he has excelled in. He gambles the quantity and quality of his tomorrows for the bounty of today, the roar of the crowd and the glory of a title that has been beyond his reach when younger and fresher.

Nevertheless, a man handsomely rewarded for years of durability should not still be chasing giants at his advanced age and with twelve painful defeats to his name. And in a more organised meritocracy, champions as capable as Tyson Fury should not be sending him contracts. Particularly in an era in which two fights a year is a busy calendar. But boxing isn’t that utopia.