Ok, this is me, poised over a humble pie of such colon clogging proportions that it could floor Russkie humunculus Nikolai Valuev more effectively than a horseshoe-loaded glove to the knackers. And why should I be so contrite? Because yesterday I tweeted this:

Is there anyone alive who doesn’t think David Haye is going to be plucking his eyebrows through his arse this time tomorrow morning?

In fairness I wasn’t alone in expecting Haye to concertina into a cornrowed quarter-pounder the minute Valuev caught him with a clubbing right, but then I never credited Haye with the boxing nouse to deny the Russian a chance to connect.

Lying in bed listening to 5live it sounded to me like the Brit boxed the perfect match. He knew what he had to do – keep moving and throw more effective punches than his opponent for 12 rounds – and that’s exactly what he did. Flooring Valuev was never an option. In fact, Haye broke his right hand in the third just testing the giant’s jaw (“His head is solid, the hardest thing I’ve ever hit,” said Haye. “It’s like hitting a solid brick wall”) so what else was our man supposed to do except keep dodging and keep hitting, right to the final bell and the World Heavyweight crown.  

David Haye outfought & outthought Nikolai Valuev to the point of making his adversary appear amateurish, which he isn’t. Amateurs don’t get to take big gold belts home. But then the big man was undeniably out of shape, so much so that chasing Haye for 12 rounds almost left him open to an uppercut knockout at the last. Lord what a classic photo that would have made, our David standing triumphant over the prone Goliath. As iconic an image as Ali over Liston.

Perhaps Valuev has been trading on his outsized reputation for a little too long, but last night proved that a freakish frame is no substitute for a boxing brain, and I promise to never underestimate The Hayemaker again.

Bring on the Klitschkos!