Indeed, events – something to do with the pugilistic pursuit of glory, according to the prebout publicity – seemed so removed from the codification of boxing as a noble art that the good marquis was probably spinning faster in his grave than an amphetamine-fuelled yarn-maker.
Rumble in the Jungle? Thriller in Manila? This was so unseemly, so – in the words of Wladimir Klitschko, the IBF, WBO and WBA heavyweight champion – "embarrassing" that it's hard to know where it will end, except perhaps by being dubbed the Bovver in Bavaria, and signalling the end a career for at least one of Britain's press conference brawlers.
And it all began so positively, as last Monday, Dereck Chisora hailed his opponent, WBC heavyweight champion Vitali Klitschko, as "the king of the sport"- before vowing to show him no respect.
Slapping Klitschko in the pre-bout weigh-in, spitting water at his brother Wladimir during the introductions - at least a British boxer was as good as his word. If only his words were good.
Because, despite giving away six inches in height and reach and, as it turns out, several country miles in dignity, Chisora not only took Saturday night's fight the distance, but probably won new fans in a game but ultimately futile attempt to overcome his underdog status.
Then he did the underdog equivalent of lifting his leg on the ringside judges, biting the MC and getting a little too amorous with the fishnet-clad pins of the girl whose job is it to carry the placard with a big number on it.
"I don't care what people think. I am the one who is doing the fighting so I will decide what happens," said Chisora, ahead of his unanimous points loss.
Ahead of gamely taking defeat on the chin, praising the craft of his victorious opponent, and vowing to come back stronger for the already arranged rematch, shaking hands and leaving happy.
Er. Nope. Less than an hour after the bout he was brawling with and threatening to shoot a fellow British heavyweight after seemingly trying to goad him into a fight in the ring.
But who needs a ring? Or gloves (cut to the late Queensberry, spinning like Alastair Campbell on a waltzer, whose code specified for the first time that boxers fight wearing gloves).
Speed is perhaps lacking in Britain's current crop of heavyweights. Speed of thought. They do, however, seem able to 'get it on' at a moment's notice. And so it came to pass that Britain's big bruisers managed to take their art to a new, below-the-belt, low.
David Haye, in Munich as a TV analyst, or perhaps to stuff his ego with bratwurst, had taken things reasonably downhill with his underwhelming 12-round loss to Wladimir Klitschko last year. Part of his hype ahead of that loss had involved a shirt bearing the image of Haye holding up the severed heads of both Klitschkos (rather proving that two heads are better than one -).
Ahead of clashing with Chisora, he'd already suffered a verbal mauling from Bernd Boente, the Klitschkos' manager. "Contrary to David Haye, Dereck Chisora really went for it. He really tried." he said, before telling Haye that he'd blown any chance of a lucrative rematch. So, both a little bruised, Haye and Chisora got down to it, amid claims of being glassed, and threats to "shoot and burn".
"For all of the great champions from the past that have been polishing the image of the sport of boxing and giving it the glamour, respect and recognition while setting a good example for the youth of the world to follow, this type of behaviour kills all that hard work from the former champs and teaches disrespect for the sport and fellow human beings."
Well said, Wladimir.
