By Steve Bunce

LAST week in Cardiff, Barry Jones proved that Joe Calzaghe can take stick on both sides of the ropes.

Jones and Calzaghe were the stars of the latest BBC Five Live touring gig, a free night for boxing fans and a very different night to the ones that champions are usually paid to attend. There were no thrills and gimmicks, and Calzaghe was stunned by the simplicity, and it showed – he was funny, open, emotional and happy.

And Jones was Jones. “Statistically, I’m a much better fighter that Joe.” Jones then went on and listed the reasons and they were solid. Calzaghe just laughed and shook his head.

Barry Jones never lost in the Welsh championships; Joe did. Barry Jones won a medal at the European juniors; Joe lost before the medal stage. Barry won a world title younger than Joe and won it in fewer fights. “I even taught him how to walk!” Calzaghe just laughed and laughed.

“How he never gave me a slap, I will never know,” Jones said at the end.

Then Robbie Regan piped up from the cheap seats. He and Joe had boxed an exhibition when Joe was 14 and it had to be stopped because it was too violent. “They saved Joe,” Regan shouted. Calzaghe just laughed. Regan was probably about 18 at the time and about the same weight. It was a bad idea; Calzaghe does not and will never do exhibitions.

“It’s true; I was about 14 and they had to call it off,” remembered Calzaghe. He was loving the trip down his memory lane. There were dozens of mentions of his beloved and devoted father, Enzo, and at times you could hear nothing but his voice, not a murmur in the Glee club, where nearly 400 had gathered for the treat. Calzaghe was raw, his father sacred in every tale.

Darren Barker, Calzaghe’s great friend, had travelled down to introduce us. Barker got a bit of stick for helping Mikkel Kessler prepare for his fight with Calzaghe back in 2007. “It was before I knew Joe,” pleaded Barker. Pantomime boos followed.

Backstage, Regan and Calzaghe hugged for hours. By the way, the show finished by 9:30pm, a sensible time and necessary because people had travelled from all over the country.

There were fans from London, Kent, Sheffield and Birmingham. That is a long, long trip on a freezing cold Wednesday night in December.

One special guest, and one I disgracefully forgot to mention, was Sue Atkins. Look her up – she is the original British women’s boxing pioneer. Jane Couch, Cathy ‘The Bitch’ Brown and the others all owe her a debt. It was great to see her; it was the first time in about 30 years and that is disturbing.

It was more than 30 years ago that I started to make the regular pilgrimage to Cardiff for Regan fights. He is one of the most neglected British boxers in modern times. He had six British or European title fights in Cardiff in less than two years. His nights inside the old Ice Rink were spectacular. That dirty, old venue, now demolished, should have a special place in the hearts and minds of any British boxing fan. Regan finished his career with three consecutive world title fights; losing the first, winning the next two at different weights and then he was stopped from boxing. That is heartache; Jones knows the same feeling. Calzaghe was silent as they told parts of their story. The crowd took it all in. It was a special night.

“I remember this one day, outdoors at Splott Market,” Jones said. “Steve Robinson lost, Robbie Regan made his debut and drew; I was there, Joe was there, and Lennox Lewis was there. It was Splott Market. Five world champions – that’s not bad.” Jones always pulls out a classic like that. What an event that was in August 1989 – I’m annoyed that I missed it.  Lennox, incidentally, was in Cardiff quite a bit at the time with his manager, Kellie Maloney. I think Maloney had just fallen in love with her second wife and she was Welsh. It’s confusing, but true.

“You know what Lennox did?” Jones asked. “Well, I had a programme and I wanted him to sign it. But we never had a pen. He came back 10 minutes later with a pen; I’ve still got that programme.” Nice, that will do.

And then it was time for Joe’s greatest night. No more jokes. Regan insisted it was the night in front of 50,150 people at the Millennium Stadium against Kessler. “What Joe did was amazing – he changed the fight after a few rounds and Kessler had no idea what to do and Kessler is a good fighter,” Jones added. Somebody mentioned Roy Jones and Bernard Hopkins.

And then there was Jeff Lacy. It’s easy to forget the thoughts and feelings before that fight; Calzaghe was doomed, finished, a hype job, a bottle job, a victim. Boxing News picked a Lacy stoppage and questioned Calzaghe’s heart. In Cardiff, the praise was heaped: “And what happened, Joe?” I asked. A giant smile and then a beautiful replay of the spiteful massacre.  Please, don’t let anybody tell you this was like Devin Haney at the weekend.

“You know, my dad believed. He always believed. He told me that the fight would change my life. He knew,” said Calzaghe, his voice just above a whisper. There was that silence again in the packed club and then the cheers. The night went on like that.

There was a bit of Carl Froch talk and Calzaghe was respectful, but the night in Cardiff was about the old days, the days when Regan sold-out the rickety Ice Rink and young Jones, with a full head of hair, topped bills with Calzaghe deep on his undercard. It was an intimate night, a privilege to witness and be part of.

The next gig might be in Norfolk, a forgotten boxing spot. I will find a town hall somewhere and invite the local boxing royalty. Keep an eye out.