Haye's excuse is toe joke for the noble art.
THERE'S a certain delicious irony as a pathetic David Haye feebly blames a broken little toe for his capitulation against Wladimir Klitschko.
After all, it was this man of straw who had declared among his kinder intentions decapitation and prolonged hospitalisation in intensive care for his opponent.
The old nursery rhyme tells us that while some piggies journeyed home or to market, dined on roast beef or not, the offending little piggy went "wee wee wee" and squealed all the way home.
In Haye's case, on his private jet counting the enormous amount of money his appallingly crude and disturbing declarations to create interest in the fight had garnered.
The whole absurd fight scenario in Germany was cloaked in discomfiture for all who believe boxing to still be a "noble" art, and perhaps summed up by Lennox Lewis in ridiculous top hat and flowing cape resembling a Dickensian child snatcher.
Haye is an ordinary fighter who should have stayed at cruiserweight yet, and you have to give him his due here, he has made millions with an average ability coupled with a gullible public desperate for a hero in the heavyweight division.
He now is determined to tell us that the pain-killing injection that was administered for some reason didn't work properly.
It may not have stopped the pain but it certainly removed what was left of his integrity.
One could never imagine true champions or challengers resorting to such wretched mitigation when one remembers the courage and pride of Louis, Ali, Marciano and Frazier from the world stage or much less lauded domestic heroes like, Cockell, Cooper, Walker, Prescott and Bodell.
Squealing: David Haye's little piggy.