The 1912 Olympic marathon was held in a brutal Scandinavian heatwave, and before long Shizo Kanakuri of Japan was flagging. His journey to Stockholm had been debilitating; he had barely trained and struggled to sleep. At around the 16-mile mark he finally gave in.
Exhausted and disoriented, he stumbled off the road and into a garden party, where – according to his bemused hosts – he sat and drank orange juice for an hour. The next day, deeply ashamed at his failure to complete the race, he quietly took a boat back to Japan. In Sweden the mystery of the “disappearing runner” took on almost mythical proportions.
Kanakuri’s name was on the country’s missing persons list for more than 50 years. In the 1960s, a journalist tracked him down to Kumamoto in southern Japan, where he worked as a geography teacher. At great expense, Swedish television flew him back to Stockholm and ferried him to the spot where he had abandoned the race.
So it was that in March 1967, Kanakuri finally completed the 1912 Olympic marathon in a time of 54 years, eight months, six days, five hours, 32 minutes and 20.3 seconds. None of this, of course, was of the least sporting consequence. But it was a nice story, generating substantial interest, and the newspapers could fill their column inches, and the broadcasters could fill their schedules, and perhaps ultimately this was all that mattered.
All of which brings us, by a similarly circuitous route, to Tyson Fury v Anthony Joshua, a heavyweight fight that is often wrongly described as happening several years too late, long after the 38-year-old Fury and the 36-year-old Joshua have passed their fighting peak, years since either man has beaten anyone of world-class pedigree, a delay that makes Mayweather v Pacquiao look impromptu. In fact Fury v Joshua is happening exactly as intended: at the sweet spot where commercial potential meets an absence of genuine jeopardy. Make this fight in 2021 and both men are putting titles, the undisputed crown, an entire fighting legacy, at terminal risk.
Make it in 2031 and not even the combined bullshit wattage of Frank Warren, Eddie Hearn, Dana White and Turki al-Sheikh could persuade the public that this was anything other than a fairground sideshow. No: it has to be now, before anyone stops caring. Like a market trader extracting maximum price for a fruit on the very brink of going rotten, this is the fight business operating on God-tier mode.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
