Vijender's win is sweeter because it was so close, the title vindicating his decision to go pro

As a teary-eyed and triumphant Vijender Singh left the boxing ring on Saturday night, he was mobbed by hordes of frenzied spectators-turned-worshippers, separated only by a flimsy human shield. Each of them wanted a glimpse, a picture, a selfie perhaps with India’s champion pro boxer.

None of them stood a chance. Because this was joyous bedlam. A gloriously chaotic guard of honour. A level of hysteria rarely seen around a non-cricket Indian sportsperson. A seminal moment, perhaps, for professional boxing in the country.

Only a few minutes earlier, Olympic medallist Vijender Singh had turned into Professional Boxing titleholder Vijender Singh – another milestone in a remarkably exceptional career for an Indian sportsperson. He had achieved what he set out to do: to outfight, outbox and outlast Welsh-born Australian Kerry Hope and be crowned the new WBO Asia Pacific Super Middleweight champion.

Following a tight contest, fought over 10 rounds, Vijender’s emotions came pouring out when he was finally awarded the championship belt. Tears of elation. Tears of relief. Tears of vindication.

Open to criticism

Vijender's decision to go professional was heavily criticised at the time – it had meant he could not compete for medals under the Indian flag. On Saturday, Vijender stood tall, bathing in saffron, white and green, while his amateur compatriots today, owing to the boxing federation’s self-inflicted mess, are not allowed to wear Indian colours. Vindication indeed.

Vijender’s emotions also gave you an idea of the kind of pressure he must have felt heading into the contest. Performing in front of an expectant home crowd is never easy in any sport. Even more so when you know it is full of fickle sports fans who could forget you in a jiffy.

Besides, as an amateur boxer, a win is great, a defeat not too devastating, and opportunities rarely dry up. As a professional though? Every fight is high stakes. Records matter. There are no guarantees. The future always remains uncertain.

Vijender had spent the best part of last two weeks promoting the fight across cities in India. A selfie with the Prime Minister, some more with cricket legends, a film screening with a Bollywood actor, an appearance in a kabaddi match, front-page newspaper ads, plenty of media coverage and promotion by the country’s biggest sports broadcaster – all this had meant he had no option but to win. A defeat was unthinkable. It was a make-or-break fight in many ways. He had thrown everything into the ring.

No Plan B

Fortunately, everything went according to script. An enthralling 10-round fight crowned a flawless night of professional boxing. The crowd became fully engrossed in the contest. For most, it was their first experience of watching the sport. It soon became an experience of a lifetime.

Vijender began the better of the two. Hope was cautious and measured. His stance compact, with gloves often closing any avenues to his face. The Indian, on the other hand, looked as nonchalant as ever, first catching the Australian flush on the face and then rubbing it in by grinning at his opponent – the kind of charisma that attracts crowds and makes pro boxing a worldwide phenomenon.

Each strike was accompanied by wild cheers. Chants of “Vijender! Vijender!” reverberated around the stadium. So did cries of “India! India!” along with Indian flags merrily waving in the crowd.

Hope too responded with punches and taunts in the subsequent rounds. A former European champion, he was no pushover. He was handpicked as Vijender’s opponent because of his experience and ability to take fights to the distance. He did not disappoint.

The Indian had fought only 17 rounds in his previous six bouts – all ending in Technical Knockouts (TKO). It was in the best interests of everyone involved for the fight to go the distance.

A close call

As rounds passed by, the atmosphere became tense. In round six, Vijender looked to be on the brink of achieving another knockout. Hope was faltering after receiving a couple of strong jabs and body blows. But he held on and came fighting back.

By now, the crowd, comprising young and old, was fully immersed in the fight. “Mooh pe zor se maar de” (“Hit him hard on the face!”), shouted a young boy who couldn’t have been older than 10 years, though event rules prohibited entry below that age.

After plenty of back and forth, and no decisive knockout blows, it was clear that Vijender was ahead on points. This was confirmed when Hope came out firing in the final two rounds. A boxer only does so if his camp feels he is behind on points – and it seemed unnatural for the Aussie to throw wild punches while exposing himself to a potential knockout.

As the bell rang to signal the end of the fight, both boxers were curiously lifted in celebration. Both camps appeared to be confident of a points win. When the scores were announced, you understood why. The three judges scored 98-92, 98-92 and 100-90 – all three in favour of Vijender. It was closer than originally imagined, and certainly closer than the Indian would’ve liked.

The real celeb

Nonetheless, a belt around the waist to add to several medals around the neck makes for a superb collection. A collection that will only expand in years to come.

There were celebrities galore at the event. From ministers to cricketers, Bollywood actors to television performers – but none of them truly mattered. All of them may have received a rousing welcome from the crowd, but they were barely given a glance on departure.

By then, Vijender had cemented himself as the real showstopper. In 2008, he had become the flagbearer of amateur boxing in India. In 2016, he has become the seed, the launch rocket, the vanguard, of professional boxing in the country.

If Vijender was the main event coming into the night, he is only a bigger one the next morning.

Akarsh Sharma is a Delhi-based writer. You can follow him on Twitter here and Facebook here.