It is a testament to Moses Itauma’s ability to generate eye-catching knockouts that he manages to capture the imagination in a world of subscriptions channels, apps, paywalls, clickbait news, a million podcasts, and social media slush. Even at 20, he knows that winning is not enough. He knows that what really matters is the manner of the win. He knows that winning well – that is, violently – is the only thing that separates a prospect from the pack and that in a world of excess and vulgarity only vulgar displays of power can interrupt the endless scroll and focus wandering eyes.
In the case of Itauma, there is no fear of being scrolled past. To date, he has finished 10 of his 12 professional fights inside the distance and has now started to make statement wins against opponents some observers expected to “test” him. Recently he blasted away Mike Balogun inside two rounds, and before that he dealt with Demsey McKean in one. Neither win was a surprise, but that’s not the point. What made the wins semi-significant was the manner of them and the fact that Itauma, rather than follow the script, wanted to laugh in the face of any suggestion that opponents like McKean and Balogun would be remotely challenging. There was, in the way he finished them, not only a degree of cruelty, but traces of contempt; as if to say, “Did you really think this guy would go rounds with me?”
Whether they did or did not, it is clear, based on recent results and future plans, that the brains behind Itauma are getting excited about his potential and are now keen to move the British heavyweight beyond the likes of Balogun and McKean. It is for that reason he fights Dillian Whyte, a former world title challenger, on August 16 in what will be only his 13th fight.
Even if Whyte is faded, and he is, he remains a big enough name, particularly in the UK, for his scalp to still carry some value. Get it and Itauma will have replaced him in the heavyweight pecking order and perhaps finished the career of a man whose career has been blighted by inactivity and failed performance-enhancing drug tests. Win-win, you might say.
It is, in that respect, both a sensible fight for Itauma and an example of shrewd matchmaking. The only downside is the fact that it will take place in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, where neither Itauma nor Whyte carry any sort of relevance, and that to simply watch it on DAZN, an app, will end up costing boxing fans £19.99; a pretty price for what is a British title fight in all but name.
Indeed, when oversold like that, the fight becomes a victim of unrealistic expectations, much like Itauma himself. It becomes a decent learning fight – perfect for an undercard – now masquerading as something it is not: can’t-miss headliner, title fight. It also becomes a fight with no audience to speak of and is therefore stripped bare, exposed as having no real point to it other than Itauma getting win number 13. In fact, it becomes almost detrimental to Itauma’s progress as a so-called future star to have him secure win 13, the most important of his career so far, to the sound of silence and general indifference.
That’s the risk you run whenever a fight is a showcase for a rich few rather than available to many. Yet the issue of inclusivity seems even more pertinent with someone like Itauma. On the one hand, we are forever being told he is the hottest prospect in world boxing, while, on the other, he is being shipped off to the Middle East – after Whyte, three of Itauma’s last five fights will have taken place there – and stymied prematurely by the pay-per-view chokehold.
To some, a night in Riyadh on pay-per-view might sound sexy and big time, livin’ the dream and all that. However, it could also be argued that this approach to Itauma’s career is entirely at odds with what they should be trying to achieve at this early stage. The money, that’s all well and good and worth holding hands for, but what does any of it mean in the long run if nobody knows the name of Moses Itauma, nor cares when he one day fights for a title?
So easy is it to fall under the spell of promoters and financiers these days, and so easy it is to fall into the trap of thinking social media reflects society at large, the notion of a British heavyweight building his career in Saudi Arabia on an app might seem par for the course in 2025; no cause for concern. But just because boxers like Itauma have become emblematic of where the sport is heading does not mean the practice is healthy or in the least bit encouraging.
Instead, the thought of Itauma being hidden away at 20, and guarded by money men, is a rather depressing one to consider. Maybe the odd fight in Britain (he beat Balogun in Glasgow and Mariusz Wach in London) will appease some, but it is still not enough. It won’t be enough for Itauma’s profile to grow and it won’t be enough to convince anyone back home to invest in the rise. After all, anyone with an inclination to do so will now presume, with good reason, that every major fight Itauma has in the future will land in the Middle East. This is true of the Whyte fight in August and the same goes for his next one, too, which, provided he beats Whyte, will be in November, perhaps against Martin Bakole.
If that’s the way they want to go, fine, it’s their prerogative, but nobody should lose sight of what makes a memorable heavyweight champion. As well as the knockouts, it’s the occasion; the magnitude of it. Eventually, as heavyweight champion, they want to be involved in big fights in front of big crowds and they want to attract the eyes of the world. One man alone cannot make or fake an occasion. It requires more. Many more.
Right now, for all his talent, Itauma, 12-0 (10), is not the next Anthony Joshua, at least commercially. For that to happen, he would need to be more widely seen and he would need to have the people walking the streets of the UK aware of both his name and his impressive run of knockouts. For that, he would need to be talked about and not just tweeted about. For that, he would need his biggest fights to happen at home, where he can build a following, and on channels that don’t require fans having to both name and spell the drug for which Dillian Whyte tested positive in 2012 to gain access. (It’s Methylhexanamine, by the way.) For that, the speed of his knockouts would need to be balanced by a more thoughtful and deliberate long-term plan, with Joshua not a target but the blueprint.
Is Itauma, at 20, a better fighter than Joshua at the same age? Of course he is. Joshua, after all, was still only getting started as an amateur at 20. Will Itauma then end up a better pro? That is possible, too, given both his ability and the time at his disposal. But, even if he does end up a better pro, what Itauma may struggle to replicate is his countryman’s star power and popularity, two things that live longer in the memory than quick knockouts produced in empty arenas and shared on never-ending timelines.
