A SUITCASE, WHICH looks like it might have had bundles of cash placed neatly inside, was delivered to Fabio Wardley at the gym. Instead of money, the bag possessed a belt. A shimmering gold plate stuck to a maroon leather strap. It was time for his moment.
Wardley had become world champion via email — when Oleksandr Usyk chose to vacate his heavyweight title, the WBO promoted Wardley from interim to full champion. He was deserving, but never had the glory of claiming the ultimate honour inside the ring. It meant that rather than being awarded his championship like boxers dream of, he had to wait for a suitcase to be delivered.
Wardley unclipped the latches to reveal his WBO belt. Finally, a champion and his championship united. But eventually, his eyes wandered to one of the medallions.
Fabio Wardley. White Rhino.
Strange. Not only is that not Wardley’s nickname, but it’s one that belongs to a rival of sorts, fellow British big man Dave Allen. Wardley (20-0-1, 19 KOs) doesn’t even have a nickname.
Even the way he received his world title, an honour he defied the odds to get his hands on, was laced with a dash of disrespect.
Being the relaxed character he is — a rare breed in this sport — Wardley didn’t fly off the handle. He knew what he was, and it wasn’t a rhino.
“What’s there to cry about? It is what it is. Human error. It’s only a little laugh,” Wardley reflects.
The WBO, it should be noted, rightly apologised and sent their champion a new belt. Allen didn’t get the old one either, for the record, but it’s another chapter in Wardley’s curious journey which continues on Saturday against fellow knockout connoisseur Daniel Dubois [6 p.m. BST, DAZN] in his first title defence.
WARDLEY IS USED to the doubters. Those who have said, and keep saying, his next fight will be a bridge too far.
He’s going to get found out.
Fortunately for him, he has also become accustomed to proving those doubters wrong in devastating, often memorable fashion.
“I think there’s a level of almost not being able to believe that I’ve come from where I’ve come from and been able to achieve,” Wardley says.
His professional debut, after just a handful of white-collar fights, was itself a bold move, leaving a more than comfortable office job to try his hand at the most unforgiving of sports. It wasn’t like he was a pure natural when it came to the craft he took up so late in life. He was far from the second coming of Larry Holmes, but Wardley was good at the thing that makes a heavyweight famous.
Knockouts.
There was also that burning desire to be something. To chase the things people said he couldn’t or shouldn’t.
English and British titles preceded that WBO belt as he followed in the footsteps of Anthony Joshua, Tyson Fury, Lennox Lewis, Joe Bugner and Henry Cooper to win the prestigious domestic honours. When he took on David Adeleye for the European and Commonwealth titles in October 2023, the sceptics were still there, but so was his devastating power. It took him slightly longer than he was used to; winning by knockout in Round 7.
Two fights against Olympic medallist Frazer Clarke — the first a fight of the year draw, the rematch a thumping Round 1 KO win which left his rival with a broken jaw and cheekbone — put him on the map. But the cynics were ready to jump for joy as he found himself down on the cards and heading for defeat against Justis Huni, an experienced amateur but heavy underdog in their fight last June.
Yep, there it is … Knew his luck would run out eventually.
But the moment of reckoning came again. Wardley landed a right hand which crumpled the Australian. A stoppage win over former world champion Joseph Parker in October put him on a collision course with the then-undisputed champion Usyk, arguably the greatest fighter of his generation, but their paths never crossed.
From white collar to world champion in less than 10 years.
“I’m not out of my depth at all. Going into a fight like this [Dubois], I’ve done 10 rounders, 12 rounds, big fights, big occasions. I’ve ticked off all the milestones, so nothing sticks me in a ‘deer in the headlights’ situation where I’m new to it,” he says. “That was very crucial for me at least to learn very early on that you’re behind the eight ball, but with constantly backing yourself … you can catch those boys up.”
IN 45 YEARS of boxing promotion, Frank Warren has had a front row seat to some of the most memorable moments of the modern era. He’s nurtured some of the sport’s biggest stars and witnessed fighters turn their lives around from the lowest depths to become kings of the world.
But even Warren has never seen anyone like Wardley.
“He’s a credit to the sport and what he’s done is phenomenal,” Warren says. “No amateur experience … Can you imagine the day he turned professional, without having an amateur bout? [In] 21 fights, he’s world champion. What odds would you have got for that?”
As easy as it is to list off the achievements and remarkable moments, it’s just as easy to forget how monumental and rare Wardley’s rise is compared to his peers, many of whom would have been had been holding up their gloves and practicing a jab before they could drive.
“Once I started jumping in with pros, I realised very quickly that there was a large gap between me and them,” Wardley reflects. “The only way to shorten that gap was through sheer work rate and dedication, commitment and chucking myself in the deep end at any opportunity.”
Sparring with Joshua, Fury, Usyk and even this week’s opponent, Dubois, helped him improve quickly. He has enough humility to concede Dubois got the better of him back then, but now possesses the prerequisite ego every good fighter has to insist he will flatten his rival on Saturday.
“He’s [Wardley] going to come out and throw his bombs and show how he punches,” Warren says. “They both throw bombs. Anything can happen. This, for me, is the most exciting heavyweight fight out there bar none.”
But even now, on the eve of another mammoth fight, does Wardley feel like he’s underestimated?
“I don’t know if that’s ever going to really leave me. I think there’s a level of [people] not being able to believe that I’ve come from where I’ve come from. Every time it’s like: ‘He has to fall now, it has to go wrong now.'”
In the age of social media trolls where hyperbole sells, Wardley has come to terms with the fact he may never get the recognition he deserves.
“It’s never: ‘F— me he did well there.’ I think that’s always going to follow me around.”
Wardley may not be a white rhino, but he is in many ways a rare breed.
