I'm a boxer like Tyson Fury - and our sport's macho, hypermasculine culture is far too forgiving of prejudice

2015 has been a stellar year for British boxing. Names such as Anthony Crolla and Liam Smith rose from obscurity to join established stars like Olympic Gold medallist James De Gale and Welterweight titlist Kell Brook as world champions.

Most recently came the biggest win of them all. Tyson Fury shocked the boxing world by dethroning the unified Heavyweight Champion, Wladimer Klitschko, in Düsseldorf, Germany. In a supreme display of tactical nous and brute force, Fury outthought and outfought the Ukrainian legend to bring home four titles to Great Britain.

But his comments afterwards brought shame to the sport I love.

As a boxer myself – albeit nowhere near the league of our current pros – I understand the mountain Fury had to climb. And make no mistake, Fury conquered Everest on that cold night in Germany.

But as the newly crowned world champion learned, once you’ve climbed the mountain you inevitably have to descend it. And for Fury, it was the sharpest of falls from grace.

Abhorrent comments he had made where he referenced homosexuality and abortion together with paedophilia came to light.

“There are only three things that need to be accomplished before the devil comes home,” he was reported to have said. “One of them is homosexuality being legal in countries, one of them is abortion and the other one’s paedophilia.”

And of his views towards marriage: “My wife’s there, her job is cooking, cleaning and looking after the kids, that’s it.”

The self-styled ‘Gypsy King’ has defended his beliefs, implying in the past that they are part and parcel of having an Irish Traveller childhood: “People have got to understand that our lifestyle is totally, totally different.

“We may be the same colour, and we may speak the same language, but deep inside we are nothing alike.”

This doesn’t excuse his statements, but they do offer an insight into the hyper-masculine world he was born into. The Traveller community, with its sternly patriarchal views, has clearly informed some of his more controversial perspectives on the world.

And so in many ways boxing must have seemed an easy continuation for him - literally fighting his way out of poverty. The nature of boxing, which allows only the toughest to survive, makes it a haven for hyper-masculinity. “You hit like a girl” can be heard in gyms up and down the country, alongside its next sexist admonishment: “Man up.”

I remember sparring in at an amateur boxing club at 16. Tired after three rounds, all I could do was smother my opponent’s attempts. “Why do you keep grabbing?” shouted the coach, “Are you a fucking gay? Hit him!” Such open homophobia as an attempt at motivation has never left me.

Sexism, misogyny and homophobia are by no means unique to boxing – other sports, such as football and rugby, have had their fair share. But these more mainstream sports usually see bigger reactions and more concerted pressure to stamp out prejudice at its source. By its nature, boxing is more niche – and can therefore end up more forgiving.

We must be able to separate Fury’s astonishing triumphs from his reprehensible beliefs, and reject the idea that a steadfast belief in ‘macho’ patriarchy is necessary for success in the ring.

In the last few days, Fury has stated: “I would like to put on record that I am not homophobic. I have homosexual friends and I do not judge them because of their sexuality.” However, they are clearly now reflecting on what a precarious state they’ve been in during their friendship.

Boxing is a beautiful sport that provides a better life for many - from the slums of Manila to the campsites of Manchester, it has blessed the most brutal.

For that reason it must be cherished and protected. Fury is learning that holding the greatest prize in sport comes with the greatest of responsibilities - and if he is to win our hearts as well as the titles, he must accept that that involves becoming part of a sporting world which no longer provides refuge for prejudice.