Kall Sauerland “would have liked to have had an easier opponent”. The nameplate on the podium of a hotel in Bad Vilbel identifies him as a man with influence: he is the “Global Head of Boxing” of the globally operating company Wasserman. When it comes to professional boxing, Germany is currently considered a sideshow of the international boxing scene. But for one evening, namely this Saturday (10.45 p.m., Sport1), the world is looking at a ring in the Frankfurt factory sports hall.
At least that’s what Sauerland expects. At press conferences, promoters deliberately lay it on thick when they have to promote a duel whose appeal is not apparent at first glance, but is obvious at second glance. Local hero Leon Bunn and Irishman Padraig McCrory go head-to-head with two with a spotless fight record. The winner is henceforth world champion in the light heavyweight division.
Home advantage as a bargaining chip
Sauerland set the stage for Bunn. The home advantage is considered a bargaining chip, the referee Jörg Milke is a compatriot and in addition to a Belgian and a Frenchman from Monaco, a German is also allowed to score. If the fight goes through the scheduled twelve rounds, Bunn should have good cards.
Sauerland speaks in advance of a “real fifty-fifty fight”. If only because in this boxing business, Irish and Mexicans are generally seen as unpleasant, tough guys. “Leon”, according to the promoter, “has a lot on his shoulders”, but is certain that “Leon walks through fire”. This describes what the Frankfurter can expect in the ring. “Paddy,” according to his trainer Jamie Conlan, “is stronger than ever. It’s a bit like a good wine that gets better with age.” That will be the “ultimate test” for the 35-year-old, who has decided the majority of his 14 fights early. Bunn, on the other hand, has 18 fights totaling 112 rounds, double McCrory’s.
Is there a home remedy for the Belfast man’s clout? Yes, according to the Hessian camp, Leon Bunn only has to listen to the voice of his coach Konrad “Conny” Mittermaier after intensive preparation and heed the route. The duel, Sauerland prophesies, will be “out at the back, decided in the last two rounds”. In short, you don’t bet on the KO, but rather on a delaying tactic that robs the Irish of his energy.
“The mood in the hall will carry me,” Bunn says confidently. Just as he has already experienced in his performance with a home game atmosphere in the ball sports hall. So now the much smaller, more intimate setting in the factory sports hall, which offers space for just 1500 spectators, including 300 fans from the island. “An extraordinary hall”, describes Sauerland, otherwise used to multifunctional arenas, the special feature of this school sports hall. Far away from his adopted home of London, he is looking for the right German word for what he expects to find in the east of Frankfurt.
Bunn prompts the boss, landing a hit with the term “cauldron”. For too long he’s boxed under the radar of a public that understands names like Abraham, Halmich, and Maske, but not Bunn. “I want to become one of the greats, I’m on the way,” he says in all modesty, alluding to the IBO world championship belt.
The International Boxing Organization is not the crowning glory when it comes to top light heavyweight consecrations. Saturday’s winner would be a minor champion alongside true champion Artur Beterbijev, titleholder of the far more prestigious IBF, WBC and WBO federations. But an IBO World Champion may one day have the chance to knock on the door where Leon Bunn has wanted to go since he was a child.
The evening begins at 7:05 p.m. with the gong for the first of six preliminary fights. From then on, four full hours pass before it is decided in minutes or a second where Bunn’s journey will lead. In the extended world class or the sobering realization that it is not enough for a rise in the upper circles of the light heavyweight.
