Woods flies as Jones calls tune

Nice guy from Sheffield has world title shot but the man in his way could be lethal.

They had a ring ready for Clinton Woods at Springs health farm near Ashby-de-la-Zouch. If, that is, Roy Jones had agreed his own ludicrous terms to leave behind his fighting roosters and defend his five world light-heavyweight titles in Sheffield. As expected, Jones refused to budge even when his requests, which were becoming increasingly surreal, were apparently met by the BBC. They were desperate to screen the world's so-called best fighter at a reasonable hour.

Jones wanted to be on Top of the Pops, he wanted a distribution deal for his rap efforts and adequate promotion for his singing talents. Everything was in place, but Jones said no and now the fight will take place in Portland, Oregon, on Saturday.

About 10 days ago Woods flew to Portland to try to find a gym that would replace the soothing environment that he was forced to flee at Springs - a calm retreat that Frank Bruno favoured for big fights - when Jones rejected the Sheffield plan. Woods needed a hometown advantage because it is possible that never in the history of the sport has a British boxer entered a meaningful world title fight as such a rank outsider.

'I've waited too long to listen to people writing me off,' said Woods. 'I have done all that has been asked of me to get to this fight and when it is over he will know that he has been in a fight.' Hopefully, Woods is right, but it has been a long time since Jones had a hard round. The last time was in July 1998 when he was dropped for the fist time since he was 12 by Lou Del Valle, who had the advantage of having sparred with Jones and therefore the knowledge to catch him when he was vulnerable. Jones got to his feet and continued the beating.

Jones has lost just once in 47 fights and that was when he hit an opponent after he had knocked him down and was disqualified. In the rematch, five months later, he knocked the same guy out in one round. Next week's fight will be the eleventh defence of his light-heavyweight titles. There are five belts in total but two were given to him.

Woods had three belts of his own but he had to fight for all of them and fight hard to keep them. However, he was forced to relinquish his British, Commonwealth and European light-heavyweight titles to pursue Jones and secure a career-high purse. He has studied the American and heard all of the tales. He has watched and watched Jones toy with boxers. He has grown weary looking at replays of Jones knocking out men or forcing them to quit in their corners between rounds. He must have lost a lot of sleep replaying the punches in his head.

So next week Jones, who is not taking the fight seriously and has talked openly of a mismatch, will try to stop Woods adding his name to a short list of British boxers who have during the past 100 years held a version of the world light-heavyweight title. There was Bob Fitzsimmons, who was about 40 when he won it, Len Harvey who had a controversial portion of it, Freddie Mills who touched it all too briefly, John Conteh, one of Britain's best fighters, and Dennis Andries, who won it three times.

Jones has an annoying habit of essentially winning fights in the early rounds, but then letting them last the full distance or close to the full 12.

He is not too keen to hurt opponents and he is even more reluctant to get hit himself, which is not bad news for Woods. Jones refuses to take risks. He is arguably the world's best fighter, but he has not fought in Las Vegas for five years.

Woods is a lovely guy; a father, a fighter and a fisherman. But in Portland he could become the latest victim in the enigmatic career of Jones. It is a career that has fallen way short of what people expected after he turned professional in 1989. Jones was the tearful young American who was robbed of a gold medal at the Seoul Olympics in a fight that nearly brought about the end of boxing as an Olympic sport. Jones promised so much after that, but as the years passed it was increasingly obvious that he would not take a risk.

Not even a single risk with his own career, but he was happy to fight his chickens to the death. 'Sometimes they lose and don't come back; it happens,' he told me in 1996 after a fight in Tampa, Florida.

Woods is far better than the past 11 men that have met Jones. Right now Woods would beat all of them without much trouble and one or two of them would probably not even be allowed to fight in Britain because they are hopeless. Woods has a good chin, a good eye and he can be awkward.

Jones is bored, lazy and potentially lethal. What more do could you want from a modern prizefight?