By Chris Baldwin (September 21, 2009) - There are some dates which are just synonymous with boxing. Most boxing fans, for example, could tell you the date that Muhammad Ali shocked George Foreman in the jungle of Zaire or when Frazier took Ali to the depths of hell and back for a third and final time in Manila (October 30th 1974 and October 1st 1975, respectively). In that context, the anniversary of September 21st, 1991, doesn’t really resonate in the same way. But it should, especially among British boxing followers, because the events of that balmy autumn night at White Hart Lane, London, changed the lives of several tremendous fighters: some for the better and some for much, much worse. Moreover, the fundamentals of boxing, particularly British boxing, were irreversibly dragged, kicking and screaming, into the 21st Century.

September 21st, 1991, was the night that Michael Watson should have died.

Michael Watson was born in Hackney, London, on March 15th, 1965. He was a softly spoken child, born and raised at a time when the third wave of Caribbean immigrants were finding life in the UK extremely tough indeed. In this time of increasing racial tension- the Race Relations Act was still not enacted- a quiet black child raised in inner city London was an easy target for bullies who would send Michael home in tattered clothes and bitter tears. Desperate, his mother helped him into the Crown and Manner Boys Boxing Club, where he soon found previously hidden abilities to learn quickly and to box proficiently.

Young Michael soon saw off the bullies and began seeing off ring opponents; winning the 71kg London Schools title and then the National Schoolboy title in 1980. A compact and technically superior fighter, Watson amassed a fine amateur record: he reached junior ABA (the British equivalent of the US ‘Golden Gloves’ tournament) Finals in 1981, won the London ABA title as a senior for three years running between 1981-1983 (156lb in ’81 & ’82 and 165lb in ’83) and was a controversial loser to Errol Christie, himself a fine boxer who had a successful professional career, in the national 156lb ABA final in 1982. Considered a sound medal prospect at the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984, Watson was hurt by his exclusion in favour of Liverpool’s Brian Schumacher and thereafter began his professional career.

Watson’s professional career began like most do: he began racking up victories against overmatched journeymen and solid pro’s on their way down. Only a surprise decision loss to James Cook, a future European super-middleweight champion, blighted his record as he went into his first big test as a professional: a challenge for the Commonwealth Title, live on prime time terrestrial television in the UK, against the reigning champion, Nigel Benn.

Watson, by now 21-1 with 1 NC, was a massive underdog for the fight. A relative unknown, he wasn’t expected to duly extend ‘The Dark Destroyer’ who had amassed a 22-0 record with all 22 wins coming inside the distance. Few gave Watson a prayer; Watson had been handpicked as an opponent with a decent record and good ammy pedigree to make Benn look good en route to the world title shot most seasoned observers felt was only just around the corner. Some years later, Benn himself admitted that he had no preconceived plan for Watson- he was “just gonna blast him out.”

That underestimation cost Benn his title. In a display Muhammad Ali would have been proud of, Watson fooled Benn from the start and laid back on the ropes, allowing Benn to swarm forward and throw bombs. Watson, though, had worked on a simple yet masterful strategy to neutralise the Benn onslaught. As Benn attacked, Watson held his gloves high and opened them up to cup his ears, creating an impenetrable barrier to the head that Benn was trying to remove from the shoulders. The champion, frustrated and exhausted, had by round six punched himself out, and Watson effortlessly switched onto the attack and, after a furious barrage of unanswered shots, sent a destitute Benn to the canvas with a single, well placed left jab to the chin. The ‘rope-a-dope’ had worked, and for the new champion, the big time surely beckoned.

Sadly for Watson, the big time came and went in a flash. Injuries prevented him from taking advantage of the publicity garnered through his upset win and it took him almost a year to get back into the ring. When he did so, he found no one willing to take him on save the Jamaican legend, Mike McCallum. Ring rusty and still somewhat green, Watson fought gamely but found McCallum far too hot too handle. Well behind on all three cards, a spent Watson was stopped in the eleventh and his dreams of a world title seemed further away than ever. Two weeks later in Atlantic City, Nigel Benn stopped Doug DeWitt in eight rounds to become the new WBO middleweight champion.

Another frustrating year followed before Watson finally got another shot at redemption. After three straight stoppage wins, including a three round demolition over former amateur rival, Errol Christie, in Birmingham, Watson was offered a shot on June 22nd, 1991, at the new WBO Middleweight Champion, Chris Eubanks. Eubanks, proclaiming himself as ‘simply the best’, was unbeaten in 27 fights and had some six months or so earlier ripped away the title from Nigel Benn in an epic, all-British thriller beamed live to nearly fifteen million viewers. Showing tremendous heart, punch resistance, power and no little skill, Eubanks recovered from a wound in his tongue sustained in round four and a flash knockdown in round eight, to stop Benn in the ninth round of an enthralling and brutal contest which stands the test of time today.

Eubanks, like Benn before him, was strongly favoured to overcome Watson. Most believed that Eubanks hit too hard and was much too quick and strong for a fighter who some believed had been exposed at the highest level in the McCallum match. This time, however, public support was behind Michael Watson. The eccentric and brash Eubanks had been painted a villain by the media and had embraced that portrayal at every opportunity, talking up his own abilities and dismissing Watson as an easy beat.

Like Benn before him, Eubanks found Watson a much tougher proposition once the first bell rang. Whilst never reaching the heights of the Benn-Watson and Benn-Eubanks fights, a huge television audience watched a nonetheless engaging and pulsating contest in which Watson seemed to most observers to have controlled at range with sharp, crisp punching and a tight, compact defence. Watson, never in any real trouble of being dropped or stopped at any stage, had Eubanks out on his feet in a torrid tenth round which Chris later described as ‘the most vulnerable round of his career’ and raised his arms aloft at the final bell and seemed at last to have achieved his goal of becoming a world champion.

When the judges announced Eubanks a close, split decision winner (113-115, 113-116, and 114-114), a nation cried robbery. Watson himself later told the BBC that he felt ‘upset and furious’ that he had been ‘robbed by the judges’ and for perhaps one of the last times ever, boxing was front page news in the UK, with the tabloid press screaming bloody murder. Everyone seemed to have an opinion and the general consensus was that the fix had been in. Eubanks had been declared the champion but Watson was proclaimed by the press as ‘the People’s Champion’- a proud moniker that he revels in to this day.

Moreover, the clamour for a rematch was overwhelming, and there seemed no doubt that one would take place in no time at all. To his credit, Eubanks agreed to an immediate return, and so Watson was to get a third and final world title shot- at White Hart Lane, London. In the interim, there seemed genuine needle between the two men. Eubanks described Watson as having ‘whinged like a child’ and a ‘complete and utter idiot’, who would be ‘starving in the room on his own’ if Eubanks hadn’t been there offering him the rematch. Watson, in response to claims that Eubank considered him a ‘nobody’, had promised to ‘put boxing back on the map’ and to ‘return it from the gutter’ that Eubanks had placed it.

The fight, for the vacant WBO super-middleweight championship, was set for September 21st, 1991.

The build up to the fight reached frenetic heights in the UK. Newspapers and television newspapers built up the battle between the unbeaten champion and ‘The People’s Champion.’ As the ITV fight coverage begins, front man Jim Rosenthal sets the scene, stating baldly, “I have to tell you that the reason why we are here for Eubanks-Watson II is that millions of you at home and many shrewd boxing judges at ringside were absolutely convinced they had seen a miscarriage of justice.”

Watching the footage of the ITV coverage of the fight remains painful even after the lapse of some eighteen years. Watson, looking relaxed, focused and clearly intent on righting a perceived wrong first time out, speaks first at the press conference and doesn’t rise to Eubanks attempts to bait him. It is apparent that at no time does he consider that tragedy is about to befall him. He strode out to the ring, clad all in red, looking strong and confident, with the 18,000 crowd bellowing his name and booing to a man as Eubanks is introduced.

To almost universal surprise, Watson goes against everything which made him the fighter he had been and began immediately stalking Eubanks from the very first bell. Watson, a traditional counter-puncher, throws caution to the wind and unleashes flurries of lefts and rights to Eubanks head. Eubanks, a crisp counter-puncher himself, scores early successes in rounds one and two as Watson rushes in, but by the fifth round the tide had turned and Watson’s pressure and persistence saw him begin piling up rounds. By the ninth, Watson has rallied well from a strong Eubanks effort in the eighth to press forward relentlessly, scoring at will with combinations to the head and especially to the body. The tenth round is a torrid one for Eubanks, who is frozen to his boots by a left-right combination as Watson, showing no signs of slowing, continues to hurt a man universally agreed to have a superb punch resistance. By the eleventh, Watson is in complete command and seemingly on the verge of fulfilling his world title dream.

What happened next is known to almost any boxing aficionado, but is worth recalling in detail once more. Eubanks answered the bell like a whirling dervish, throwing caution to the wind in a way neither since previously nor afterwards. He unleashed some forty power punches in the direction of Watson, who was backed against the ropes but slipping most of the incoming barrage. Eubanks, somewhat discouraged but with typical bravery, ploughed forward again, bombarding Watson with incredible combinations to the head and body, once again pinning Watson to the ropes. Watson weathered the storm and slipped outside and away, causing Eubanks to slump over the top rope in absolute exhaustion. Utterly spent, Eubanks finally backed away, but Watson, still in pristine physical condition, pressed again onto the front foot and pinned a distraught and beaten looking Eubanks to the same ropes he himself had seconds earlier been trapped against. Back into the centre of the ring, Watson freezes Eubanks to the spot with a straight left to the jaw and, with nineteen seconds of the round remaining and Eubanks’ legs straight and stiff, Watson follows up with a straight right hand to the chin which finally sends Eubanks to the canvas.

What happens next remains controversial to this day. Eubanks, knocked down cleanly for the first time in his career, sinks to his knees and gets up inside around three seconds. He looks despondently to his corner and spits blood from his mouth before standing in front the referee to take the expected mandatory eight count. For reasons known only to the referee, a count was not forthcoming and Watson, standing waiting in the neutral corner, has time only to put up his gloves in token defiance as Eubanks, with the last energy left in his body, takes two ponderous paces forward before unleashing an incredible right uppercut which almost takes Watson’s head from his shoulders and deposits him, via a whiplash against the second bottom rope, on his backside and onto the canvas. One of the greatest rounds in boxing history ends with Watson, up after some three seconds, staggering back to his stool with help from his cornermen.

Whilst an exhausted Eubanks recovers on his stool, in the opposite corner Michael Watson appears in desperate trouble. His head evidently has not cleared, and despite furious attempts by his experienced corner team, the bell sounded for the twelfth and final round with Watson in no real state to continue. Unable to walk unaided to the centre of the ring at the referee’s instructions, he is literally dragged by the arm back into the fray as the final three minutes begins. Eubanks, a noted finisher when the opportunity arose, rushed forward and unleashed a furious tirade of blows at Watson, who had backed into a neutral corner and was in no fit state to defend himself. After breaking the two men apart once, the referee Roy Francis, in charge of his first world title fight, finally steps in some thirty or so seconds into another unanswered barrage to save the helpless Watson. Eubanks had won by 12th round TKO and Watson, ahead by one, three and six points on the scorecards at the end of the eleventh, was helped back to his corner for the last time; a dazed and beaten man.

Eubanks was beside himself with joy. Leaping into the arms of his corner men, he was then quickly accosted by ITV ringside interviewer Gary Newbon. In scenes that no doubt make Eubanks cringe upon re-watching, Eubanks claimed that he knew from round six that, “This man was too strong for me,” before thanking everyone from ‘The People’ newspaper to God for his victory. As apparent crowd disturbances broke out close to ringside, Eubanks continued by telling the world that Watson was a very good, underrated fighter, but informed the WBO that he wanted Watson tested to see if he had anything in his blood stream because he seemed extremely strong in this particular bout. Clearly perturbed by a growing number of people entering the ring around him, Eubanks asked Newbon, “Who are all these people here? Who are these people?” before Newbon pressed Eubanks further, asking if he felt Watson was on drugs. Eubank replied, “No man could be that strong,” before, in the face of growing pandemonium, Eubanks left Newbon in the middle of the ring and rushed to his corner. Newbon informed the viewers that “fights are breaking out” and duly cuts back to Rosenthal at ringside.

Of course, Newbon was only partially correct. Fights were breaking out, but the fighting was sporadic and had a singular cause. Unbeknown to Eubanks and Newbon, Michael Watson had slid from his stool and was stretched out, flat on his back, in his corner. Watson’s cornermen were frantically calling for medical assistance, but almost unbelievably, neither the WBO nor the British Boxing Board of Control (the BBBC) had any medics or medical provisions available. Enthusiastic supporters had rushed to ringside at the end of the fight and were clashing with Watson’s corner team who were trying to clear the area around Watson and were desperately signalling for medical assistance from the expensive seats as doctors, at the fight as spectators and wearing tuxedos, flailed helplessly against the swaying throng just outside the ring in a bid to treat the stricken fighter. As Watson lay unconscious for almost thirty minutes, the blood clot on his brain lay undetected and untreated, and for twenty-eight full minutes Watson’s brain was starved completely of oxygen.

Having waited almost half an hour for an ambulance to arrive, Watson was finally given medical treatment in an ambulance on the way to the nearest Accident and Emergency room. This critical error of judgment only worsened Michael’s condition, and it was some hours later that Watson was finally admitted to St Bartholomew’s Hospital in London, the nearest hospital with neurological facilities suited to stabilising and treating a fast deteriorating Watson.

What happened next is largely common knowledge. Watson’s condition was front page and headline news worldwide, and especially in the UK who ran with the story for many days to come. Watson remained in a coma for forty days and underwent six operations to remove the blood clot on his brain. His family were told that he would almost certainly die and even if he lived, he would never walk again, let alone fight again. Watson survived, of course, but spent five years in a wheelchair and remains permanently injured. That Watson not only defied medical consensus but also human physiology is a testament to the man’s grim determination in the face of overwhelming odds but also to the incredible physical condition he kept himself as a boxer- there is little doubt that Watson’s supreme physical strength and fitness prevented him from going the same way as Akeem Anifowoshe; a Nigerian fighter who had crumpled in the ring like Watson only three months earlier in his fight against Rob Quiroga in Texas but never truly recovered, dying several years later due to a combination of injuries sustained and the effects of drug abuse on his body.

Watson’s tragedy had profound effect on both boxers and boxing as a whole. Watson, of course, has made a frankly miraculous recovery from the injuries he sustained that night and continues to do so almost daily. Described by his neurosurgeon, Peter Hamlyn as,

“A medical miracle, Michael is already extraordinary for surviving, extraordinary for recovering his mind, and extraordinary for learning to walk again. An extraordinary spirit.”

Watson has, through hard work and almost saintly patience, recovered much of his speech, he can now walk largely unaided and his sight has returned though is considerably diminished. He still requires almost constant daily care, though, and his family and a devout faith in Christianity provide constant reassurance and assistance.

It is against this backdrop that Watson incredibly completed the 2003 London Marathon. That it took Michael six days to complete the task mattered not an iota – the achievement far outweighed the time taken in every regard. Michael’s achievement proved an inspiration to others, but he took it in his stride, telling a throng of gathered reporters at the finish line:

“Medical people had all doubted me, others had laughed when I said I would eventually do the marathon – people thought I would make a fool of myself.

“But I always loved to come up against the odds – prove the doubters wrong. My life has always been like that. You know how I proved the doubters wrong? With the love I have in my heart. To be honest, a few months before I started training for the marathon, I could hardly walk across my bedroom without falling over.

“Fighting, boxing, changed my life as a young man. But so did the marathon in 2003. The support that I got from people was overwhelming. It gave me a platform. It gave me such an inner pride, in my spirit. Even when I felt down and worn out and had no energy inside me, I knew I had to go on. That feeling has stayed with me up to this day. I still have people coming up to me every day – they call me ‘champion.’ ‘Here he comes,’ they say, ‘The champion, the uncrowned people’s champion.’ It maks me feel extremely overwhelmed.”

Watson was awarded the ‘Helen Rollason Award’ by the BBC in 2003 in recognition of his ‘courage and achievement in the face of adversity.’

His companion over the last mile of the marathon was one Chris Eubank (minus the ‘s’ at the end of his name nowadays). Eubank was to become a firm friend of Watson in the aftermath of the tragedy and a supporter to his family throughout his recovery. Eubank never did claim to feel any guilt about what happened to Watson – and nor should he have. Boxing is a dangerous game. Former ‘Prince’ Naseem Hamed trainer once described boxing as ‘the only sport where you can be legally killed’ and of course he is correct. However, the incident affected Eubank profoundly and he was never the same fighter after that night. Previously a furious finisher of weakened opponents and a ferocious puncher, Chris went on to defend his WBO title 13 times, including a drawn rematch with old foe Nigel Benn in front of 42,000 spectators at Old Trafford, Manchester, but never again did he jump on a wounded opponent as he did Watson at the start of that 12th round at White Hart Lane. His ‘killer instinct’ gone, Eubank continued to prosper in boxing but through decision victories, rather than knockout wins in furious wars like those against Benn and Watson.

The BBBC faced a storm of criticism in the aftermath of the fight and responded at length; sometimes for the good and sometimes not so good. In light of Eubank’s and Newbon’s exchange whilst Watson lay stricken in a corner, the BBBC promptly barred ‘in ring’ interviews immediately after fights had finished, almost as if interviews could cause brain injuries. Rather more useful, though, was the immediate inclusion of emergency medical facilities at all fights sanctioned by the BBBC taking place in the UK. This rule change has doubtless saved many, many fighters – perhaps most notably Gerald McClellan who suffered similar injuries to Watson in a brutal classic against former Watson victim, Nigel Benn, in February 1995. McClellan, challenging Benn for his own version of the 168lb title, took two knees in the tenth round of a torrid, epic encounter before slumping unconscious in his corner. This time, medics were immediately on hand to deal with the injured fighter, who also defied medical consensus and survived his appalling injuries, although, still almost blind and deaf, he has not recovered to the extent that Watson has.

Watson also sued the BBBC for negligence and, after a nine-year legal battle, succeeded in obtaining damages for the injuries sustained and the care received. In Watson v BBBC [2000] 2 WLR 1256, the court held that:

“On the evidence I consider that the Judge was entitled to find that.…resuscitation…would probably have resulted in a significantly better outcome for Mr Watson. Plainly…the longer the delay, the more serious the outcome.”

The exact amount awarded has not yet been finalised- the BBBC apparently have no professional indemnity insurance- but they have been forced to sell their London HQ to provide funds for Watson’s damages. The final figure is expected to be around £400,000.

The fight also heralded the beginning of the end of the UK mainstream love affair with Boxing. Almost 25% of the total viewing population that night found themselves watching a tragedy unfold before their very eyes on live television and British boxing has never really recovered from it. Watson was a household name and a popular fighter; his demise brought much hand wringing from media, medical experts and the general public in the UK at large. In the immediate aftermath of the fight, there were widespread calls for boxing to be banned, although this sentiment eventually gave way to a belief that fighters should be protected as best as possible instead of being prohibited from boxing. There remained some glorious mainstream boxing nights ahead, most notably the Benn-Eubank return fight (which drew almost fifteen million viewers on ITV), but the fall from grace was complete when McClellan crumpled in a heap on February 25th, 1995. Facing a second prime time catastrophe, ITV panicked when a week later Naseem Hamed brutally knocked out Sergio Liendo on live TV and promptly withdrew from boxing. The Benn-McClellan fight was sealed in ITV’s vault, sadly never to resurface again, along with the Eubanks-Watson return, which only became available again when the two fighters agreed to release it by pay-per-view on the internet to raise funds for charity in 2004. Despite the efforts of first Lennox Lewis and latterly Joe Calzaghe and Ricky Hatton, British Boxing has never come close to recapturing the attention of the nation as it did in the early 1990’s- instead being forced from terrestrial TV to satellite broadcasters such as SKY and Setanta (the latter of which folding earlier this year and again returning coverage to the dark ages). It is highly unlikely that British boxing will ever recover that lofty position again.

Finally, there is the most oft overlooked consequence of all from that fateful night eighteen years ago. Boxing lost an extremely good protagonist in Michael Watson. Nowadays, Watson is most well known as a courageous man who battled back from terrible injuries to raise many millions of pounds for charity. Whilst this alone is, of course, an extremely worthwhile legacy to leave, Michael Watson the fighter remains criminally overlooked. According to both Nigel Benn (who said midway through the Watson-Eubanks rematch that “Michael is a good man outside the ring and a good man inside the ring. He deserves to be world champion tonight”) and Chris Eubanks, Michael Watson was arguably the best of three superb British middle/super-middleweights in that era yet remains unquestionably the most underrated of the three. He rarely wins ‘mythical match-ups’ on boxing forums or boxing magazines despite having demonstrated, over a long and distinguished career, that he deserves at least consideration against the best in the ring as well as outside of it. Certainly there are no 160/168lb fighters today who would have been favoured by this writer to better him in the ring, and there is something of a bitter irony that good fighters like Carl Froch and Lucian Bute currently hold the title that an excellent fighter like Michael Watson craved but never obtained.

Michael Watson the boxer deserves more respect. For all that he gave boxing fans of that era and since, September 21st should be remembered.