James DeGale vs Chris Eubank Jr: Forget the promise and hype − this is a real fight

The fight game’s experts, fixers, loyal fools, clowns and dodge pots have surfaced thick and fast during the last six weeks to predict the outcome when Chris Eubank Jr and James DeGale walk clear of their many camp influencers at the O2 on Saturday night.

They will probably not stop talking as the O2 roar, a distinctive metal-bouncing howl inside the cavern under the white canopy, helps throw the pair of squabbling fighters together in a fight where real expectation has been buried deep under promise and hype.

This is a real fight, forget the hype.

The simple thinking is that DeGale will win with ease if his legs, shoulders, nose, cheek and engine have not reduced the 2008 gold medal win from Beijing to a harmless shadow, shaking his arms out in memory only. DeGale, it seems, is not even sure if his body has recovered from a life of pounding, beating and excess all complied under a banner of sacrifice. He no longer runs, he depends on the quirks of sports science to build a boxer’s engine, but he looks and sounds like a vintage DeGale, like the fresh-faced kid from a decade ago.

And Eubank Jr has added to the men who stand silent witness to his frustrating performances by hiring Nate Vasquez, a floating part of the Floyd Mayweather carnival in Las Vegas, as his trainer for this fight. Their chemistry is at the basic stage, so expect no miracles from the latest man to wield a bucket, towel and advice in the life and corner of Eubank Jr.

It seems that Big Chris, the dad, and Ronnie Davies, his old trainer, will still be circling on the night. Ronnie was the second person to hold Christopher Jr when he was born 29-years-ago, taking possession of the bundle straight from the father’s forever bruised and callused hands.

The real story of the fight is not DeGale’s diminished abilities, it’s not his proven pedigree at the highest level and it has absolutely nothing to do with a few torrid rounds they shared in a sparring ring. Those simple themes are fodder, the 3am kebabs of my business and they hit the spot for the eager. However, they provide no real nourishment.

This fight is all about Eubank Jr finally performing in a big fight, for the full fight, and not just allowing us a glimpse of a very good boxer in a round here and a round there. The best Eubank Jr we have seen is capable of beating any version of DeGale; the problem is the best Eubank Jr is a fiction in many ways, a powerful mirage and exists only on a compilation reel, which has been lovingly crafted from too many versions on too many nights.

He needs to understand that even the most extraordinarily gifted boxers knew deep in their battered cores that they had to be consistent; Eubank, the dad, was arguably the most consistent boxer of his generation. The son could do with a secret YouTube session, watching his dad claw away at lost causes, fight through pain, overcome setbacks, injuries, prejudices and perform again and again and again. As a bonus, that screening is not at the end of yet another red carpet event.

DeGale will hope the old Eubank walks out to fight him, the one with deaf ears for the men telling him to throw punches, the one content to let close rounds drift and the one with the lack of urgency, seemingly more interested in how he looks – a protection of the image and brand - than simply earning his money as a bloodied, bruised and risk-taking professional prize-fighter. DeGale has been deep in all of the boxing trenches during his sustained campaign on the glory trail – he knows what it is like and he has tested positive for heroics on a few occasions, losing teeth and his sense on the way. That’s a compliment in boxing terms.

Anyway, it’s a terrific fight. Eubank is due that night, DeGale is gloriously fresh and that means something special will happen. The alternative is that the old Eubank is making more excuses at midnight on Saturday and DeGale is picking out members of the press and saying: “I told you so, I told you he couldn’t beat me.” It will be a pleasure to watch from ringside.