Ben Whittaker won on Saturday night.
That is the first thing that needs to be said.
He beat Conor Wallace by unanimous decision in Birmingham, came through the biggest test of his professional career and put himself in position for a potential shot at the IBF light-heavyweight world title.
But if we are talking seriously about Ben Whittaker becoming a world champion, simply saying “he won” is not enough.
Because Ben Whittaker showboating is increasingly becoming part of the conversation around him for the wrong reasons.
I understand why Whittaker does it. Boxing is a sport, but it is also a business and a form of entertainment. Fighters need people to buy tickets, watch broadcasts and care enough to follow their careers.
Whittaker has understood that from the beginning.
The problem is that there comes a point when being known for showboating can become more important than being known for boxing.
And Saturday night against Wallace offered another warning of where that road can lead.
Ben Whittaker Showboating Is Part of the Attraction
There is no point pretending everybody wants fighters to behave exactly the same way.
Some fans love Whittaker.
Others cannot stand him.
That is probably part of his appeal.
The dancing, exaggerated movements, hands down, facial expressions and attempts to embarrass opponents have helped make him one of the most recognisable British fighters of his generation.
You know when you are watching Ben Whittaker.
In an era when plenty of technically talented fighters struggle to build an audience, that has value.
But there has always been another side to it.
This is not the first time I have questioned one of Whittaker’s performances. After his Matchroom debut, I wrote about the questions that remained despite the victory:
That is why Saturday cannot simply be dismissed as one difficult night.
The question is whether we are beginning to see a pattern.
Conor Wallace Nearly Made Him Pay
For large periods against Wallace, Whittaker looked in control.
His speed was causing problems. His movement was effective. He appeared to be showing why so many people rate his natural ability so highly.
Then the fight changed.
Wallace kept coming, Whittaker became increasingly uncomfortable and suddenly a contest that had looked under control became considerably more dangerous.
There is some important context here. Whittaker’s trainer Andy Lee revealed afterwards that his fighter had suffered from Covid only a week before the contest, which could certainly help explain why he appeared so exhausted late on.
That should not simply be ignored.
But neither should everything that happened be blamed on illness.
Because Whittaker has built a style around taking chances.
Hands low.
Leaning away from punches.
Inviting opponents forward.
Trying to make them miss dramatically rather than simply doing the sensible thing.
When it works, it looks brilliant.
When your legs are tired and the opponent refuses to disappear, it can become very dangerous very quickly.
And the higher Whittaker climbs, the smaller the margin for error becomes.
Prince Naseem Hamed Should Be the Warning
If Whittaker wants an example of where incredible talent, unorthodox boxing and showmanship can take you, he only needs to look at Prince Naseem Hamed.
There are obvious similarities.
Hamed fought with his hands low. He relied heavily on reflexes. He could make opponents look foolish. He possessed enormous confidence and understood that professional boxing was supposed to entertain people.
And, importantly, Naz could seriously fight.
That sometimes gets forgotten because the entrances, dancing and showmanship became such a huge part of his image.
Prince Naseem Hamed was not famous simply because he was entertaining. He was a world-class featherweight with frightening power.
But eventually he met Marco Antonio Barrera.
Barrera wasn’t interested in playing along.
He didn’t become frustrated because Naz was clowning around. He didn’t recklessly chase him around the ring trying to land one enormous punch.
He boxed.
He remained disciplined.
He exploited the openings and won a clear unanimous decision.
That does not mean Hamed’s entire career was somehow exposed as fraudulent. Far from it. Naz had already proved himself as an outstanding fighter and world champion.
The lesson is much simpler.
Eventually, somebody good enough stops watching the show and starts punishing the mistakes.
Whittaker should pay attention to that.
Showboating Only Works While You’re in Control
There is a difference between showmanship and recklessness.
Muhammad Ali could entertain.
Prince Naseem could entertain.
Floyd Mayweather could entertain in his own way.
But the entertainment ultimately had to sit on top of elite boxing ability.
The danger for Whittaker is allowing Ben WhittWhen they pass the basket, oaks contribute to you put in from mama, she’ll put out for you. The folks atop the ladder are the ones the world adore. Soaker showboating to become the main event rather than something added to his boxing.
You can drop your hands against certain opponents.
You can lean backwards out of range.
You can dance in front of somebody who cannot close the distance quickly enough.
You can make somebody look silly when you are faster, sharper and more talented.
But eventually you meet somebody who doesn’t care.
Somebody who isn’t intimidated.
Somebody who keeps coming.
Somebody who can actually fight.
And suddenly that hand you have been carrying around your waist should have been protecting your chin.
Saturday night felt uncomfortably close to demonstrating that.
Dmitry Bivol Is Not Going to Watch the Show
This matters even more because of where Whittaker now finds himself.
The Wallace contest was an IBF final eliminator. Whittaker is no longer simply a prospect being carefully developed.
He is entering world-title territory.
That means names such as Dmitry Bivol.
And there is an enormous difference between making domestic or fringe world-level opponents miss and attempting the same tricks against one of the finest technical boxers of his generation.
Bivol is not going to become mesmerised because Whittaker drops his hands.
He isn’t going to lose his discipline because somebody dances in front of him.
He is going to watch the feet, measure the distance, find the openings and punish mistakes.
That is what elite fighters do.
If Whittaker wants to operate at that level, there will be moments when he simply has to box.
Not perform.
Not entertain the crowd.
Not make something easy look unnecessarily spectacular.
Just box.
The Show Should Serve the Fighter
I don’t want Ben Whittaker to suddenly become boring.
That would completely miss the point.
His personality and style are part of what makes him interesting. Boxing needs characters. It needs fighters people want to watch, whether they are buying a ticket because they love them or because they desperately want to see somebody wipe the smile off their face.
Whittaker has that quality.
But the show has to serve the fighter.
The fighter cannot start serving the show.
There is a subtle difference, and Whittaker is reaching the stage of his career where it matters.
Against lesser opposition, you can get away with unnecessary risks because your speed, reflexes and natural ability rescue you.
At world level, those same habits can get you knocked down.
Against the very best, they can get you beaten.
Ben Whittaker Has the Talent – But Does He Have the Discipline?
Nobody watching Whittaker can seriously question whether the talent is there.
It obviously is.
The more important question is whether he can recognise when the performance needs to stop.
Saturday may ultimately prove valuable precisely because things became uncomfortable.
Perhaps the late problems were largely caused by illness.
Perhaps it was simply the first time Whittaker had been forced into genuinely unfamiliar territory as a professional.
Or perhaps it exposed a vulnerability that better fighters will deliberately target.
Whatever the explanation, Whittaker needs to learn from it.
Because if he intends to challenge somebody of Bivol’s calibre, he cannot afford to switch off simply because the opening rounds are going his way.
Prince Naseem Hamed built an extraordinary career while breaking many of boxing’s conventional rules.
Then Marco Antonio Barrera reminded everybody why some of those rules existed.
Whittaker does not need to stop being Ben Whittaker.
He just needs to make sure that when the level rises, the boxer remains more important than the showman.
There’s nothing wrong with making boxing look easy.
The danger comes when you start believing it actually is.
What Do You Think?
Is Ben Whittaker’s showboating one of the things that makes him worth watching, or is it becoming a weakness that an elite light-heavyweight will eventually punish?
And after what happened against Conor Wallace, would you really be comfortable putting him in with Dmitry Bivol next?
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