sport news British boxing's three tragedies of the past decade have left lasting effects ... trends now
Twice a year, without fail, Dale Evans will post on social media to firstly wish Mike Towell a happy birthday, and then commemorate that fateful day.
When referee Jeff Hinds is asked or thinks about boxing, Michael Norgrove’s final minutes aren’t far away from his memory.
And for Adam Westgarth, it’s the traumatic journey between three hospitals and being brought away into a small room to hear the worst about brother Scott that still emanates.
Dale Evans was a central figure in one of British boxing's three tragedies of the last decade
The adored, but unforgiving sport of boxing has affected these three men in different ways. Ways which have left deep marks in the mind of nights which can never be erased, no matter how many years have passed.
But among this select group, two emotions are indelibly shared: trauma and forgiveness.
Only three British boxers have tragically died after a bout in the past decade.
In a rare insight into the most brutal of gladiatorial pastimes, Sportsmail speaks to central figures of this trio of infamous fights — a referee who bravely intervened, a man who has to live with inflicting the punishing blows, and a brother who wonders why and how it all went so wrong.
Evans was the opponent of Mike Towell (pictured), who lost his life in the ring back in 2016
‘He comes to mind probably every day. There is always some thought, some memory of him. He’ll be there forever; it’s not something you can forget.’
Evans is getting ready for work. He is in a rather different occupation to being punched for a living; since 2018, he has looked after children in care at a residential home in Pembrokeshire.
His six-year professional boxing career had its peaks and troughs; a string of wins before becoming unstuck at British title level. He was making a living from a sport he cherished as a child growing up in the Valleys.
That all changed on 29 September, 2016. Evans was scheduled to fight Towell in a British welterweight title eliminator in Glasgow.
Towell’s reputation as a power-puncher made the 31-year-old even more wary than usual in the preceding weeks.
‘I don’t usually do this but I Googled him and saw that he was a character, a bit hot-headed like myself,’ he says.
‘There were videos of him cutting down trees in the forest. I was just going for runs, hitting the bag and sparring, and this lunatic is chopping logs!’
No shortcuts were taken for this fight. Evans knew what was at play.
Evans took on Towell (pictured above in the early stages of his career) back in September 2016
A packed room inside the Radisson Blu hotel where ‘it felt like the crowd were on top of you’ greeted both fighters, with Towell the home man. The 25-year-old hailed from Dundee and had family and friends in raucous support.
Evans says: ‘I knew it would be a bit more hostile. I could hear people chanting for Mike hours before the fight had even started.
‘From the off I could feel his power. A few times when he caught me, I was seeing stars. I had never been hit like that in my life.
‘Something I have always lacked is confidence — I wasn’t confident that I was going to win. He caught me with some big ones, I caught him with some big ones.’
A few of those ‘big ones’ knocked his opponent down in an action-packed opening round, but he got back up and pressed on.
As he unpacks the fight, his voice gradually slows and pauses. Evans knows all too well what the next phase leads to, and no matter that six years have passed, it is never any easier to retell.
‘I don’t really think I ever remember it (that fifth round) because it’s something so tragic,’ he stammers. ‘I put him down, he got up and then he went down again, and the fight was over.
‘There was panic straight away because he wasn’t getting up, the room went silent. There wasn’t a nice atmosphere in the arena at all. You know it (boxing) can be dangerous, but you don’t know the severity of the job until something like that happens.’
Towell was taken out of the ring on a stretcher after being knocked down by Evans in the fight
Paramedics had rushed into the ring to administer oxygen to Towell, before requiring a stretcher.
The Welshman did not know what to do or think, waiting for any updates on his stricken opponent in the hotel reception.
A punter at the bar said: ‘It’s not looking good’. It had started to hit home for Evans what had happened.
He recalls: ‘You can imagine going to bed in the hotel being a lonely night. It was quite obvious what was going through my head.’
He went home the next day but his mind and soul were still in the hotel — he wanted to hear some positive news about Towell.
Trainer Gary Lockett and family and friends kept checking up on him. He needed it. His mental state was badly inflicted. But he couldn’t remove himself from his phone. And that led to him finding out the worst through a few scrolls: ‘I think I found out (that Mike had died) through rumours on social media.’
Again, pain seeps through his oration. He never wanted this. You can feel his heartbeat through the phone. Though through tragedy, Evans managed to find light via an unlikely source — Towell’s family.
They have embraced him and supported his mental recovery — he was even invited to the funeral. They know it wasn’t his fault. They know how dangerous this game can be.
After Towell's passing, Evans (second from left) was invited to the funeral by his family
Annually on September 29, the Welshman makes his way to Dundee. Stories galore of Towell are rejoiced over a few drinks, memories enlightened, and laughs shared about a loved family man.
‘It’s been incredible, to be honest,’ he explains. ‘His family, friends treat me like royalty when I go up there — I don’t even get treated like that at home!
‘It’s phenomenal. I expected it to be quite intimidating going there, but it is completely the opposite. They take me into their homes, we’re drinking together. I just hear that I am so similar to him which is quite funny.
‘They have all reassured me that it wasn’t my fault, and I know it wasn’t my fault. I know that, but I am reassured all the time.’
That affection and deep connection forged through tragedy has contributed to why Evans can never, ever forget about his opponent in some form, and it is also why he must be acknowledged twice a year in social media posts — on the day Towell died, and his birthday.
He adds: ‘It’s something that will always be in my head. And you remember someone’s birthday, it’s a big day for families and friends.
‘He’s going to be in their thoughts and I understand that, so I make sure to wish him a happy birthday and it’s comforting for his family, too. Mike will always be in my thoughts.’
‘He said, “You alright ref?” That’s the last words he would ever utter to me. That came back to haunt me two weeks after the show.’
In 1990, Hinds earned a British Boxing Board of Control licence to become a professional referee. Refereeing was, and still is, his main passion in life.
But when embarking on such an uncertain hobby — NHS financial accountancy is his day job — never did he expect to be in the same ring as tragedy.
The 61-year-old had dashed from his shift to get the train to The Ring venue in Blackfriars, London — a site that holds 150 people and was hosting its first professional boxing event in 73 years.
‘Halfway through the first round, Norgrove hit Tom Bowen with a straight right hand and Bowen hit the canvas with an awful bang,’ Hinds recalls of March 28, 2013.
‘When I turned around to start counting, I thought I would count Bowen out or stop the contest because he went down so heavily. You could hear that awful whack on the ground. But, to my surprise, he got up and didn’t actually look any worse for wear.
‘So I said, “Box on”. Round two he came out again, he lost the round as well but it was still a good contest. Round three, I think he lost, and round four he actually hit more with his jab, and I scored that round even.’
Michael Norgrove (pictured) was also killed after a boxing match against Tom Bowen in 2013
The fact Norgrove was ahead made round five even more bewildering for Hinds. He still can’t get his head around it.
He says: ‘About 45 seconds in, all of a sudden he went into like a spasm. It’s like saying you are walking the dog, but you stand on something with electricity in it and you can feel the sharp pain.
‘Norgrove went [Hinds scrunches his face up and squeals] as though everything had tightened up.
‘My first instinct, and I don’t know why, was to stop the contest because something was wrong, very wrong. A guy who had been winning the contest all of a sudden goes into a spasm like that.
‘A different boxer might have been quicker than me and gone in for the kill, but I was quicker than Bowen that night.
‘Heaven knows what would have happened if I wasn’t there at that time because if Bowen had thrown another punch at him, in that state, I think you are looking at an actual death in the ring. That would have looked terribly bad.
‘I remember him only taking one punch in the fight and that was a straight left jab.’
The next part toys with this referee, knowing he could not have done anything more to change the outcome. It caused self-questioning.
Norgrove (pictured with trainer Terry Steward) had a spasm in the ring while leading the bout
‘At this point I’m distraught,’ he explains. ‘I’m thinking, “Bloody hell, what has happened here? Is there anything I could have done differently?” It’s a state of shock because you’ve never seen it happen before, and there’s no reason you could think of as to why it has happened.’
He returned to work the next day, sat in his office at a computer but not fully there. Hinds would talk to his colleagues as if nothing had happened, but he was processing distress.
A reel of the fight was playing on loop in his head; a
