It might just be sport’s oldest, most seductive siren song, and today, Lee Selby—the man once dubbed the ‘Welsh Mayweather’ for his ethereal movement and silken defensive mastery—has finally succumbed to its call.
But this isn’t a return to Argentina, Arizona or under the bright lights in the centre of Leeds United’s pitch – or indeed with the roar of a Cardiff arena under the Marquess of Queensberry’s protection. Instead, the great technician is pivoting.
Selby, the former IBF featherweight world champion, has signed a multi-fight deal with BKB Bareknuckle.
Pictured in Cardiff with Joe Smith-Brown, head of BKB in the UK, Selby is trading the eight-ounce padded variety of weapon for the raw, unforgiving honesty of the knuckle.
For years, Selby was the ghost of the featherweight division. A Barry boy who boxed like he was solving a Rubik’s cube in a hailstorm — without getting wet. And Selby won the grand slam: the Welsh, British, Commonwealth, European, and that glorious IBF world strap.
He was a practitioner of the “sweet science” in its purest, most clinical form. He was also a great human being to be around.
But boxing, as it always does, eventually asks for its pound of flesh. After a decorated 32-fight career that ended in the thin air of Argentina two years ago, the 38-year-old is back. Yes, Selby is still only 38.
Selby wasn’t just a boxer; he was a choreographer of space in the square circle. Seeing those hands, once used to picking apart world champions with surgical precision, now stripped bare for the Trigon might be seen as purists to be as jarring as it is fascinating.
So why now? And why Bareknuckle ? I interviewed Selby in the Trigon in Cardiff last year, twice, and both times the Barry fighter hinted then that it was not beyond the bounds that he would return – gloveless.
The sceptics will point to the age and the miles on the body clock. They’ll ask why a man who exited the ring happy and financially secure in 2022 would choose to step into the most brutal iteration of combat. But speak to any fighter, and they’ll tell you: the fire does not go out. Ever. It just smoulders beneath the surface.
In the rebranding of BKB (formerly BYB Extreme), we are seeing a shift. They are not just looking for brawlers anymore; they are looking for pedigree. By signing Selby, BKB has secured a master craftsman. Just as Yuriorkis Gamboa signed earlier this week, now Selby joins the ranks. And Magic Man Paulie Malignaggi is soon to fight for the BKB world title. Shoulder to shoulder they will stand in 2026.
The appeal for Selby, moreover, could be that he believes Bareknuckle rewards the “hit and don’t be hit” philosophy even more than traditional boxing. One mistake isn’t just a flash knockdown; it’s a shattered orbital bone, a laceration, or a split lip.
The risk, however, is that Selby’s game was built on timing and reflexes. At his age, against younger, hungrier fighters who have spent years conditioning their hands for this specific brutality, the margin for error is non-existent.
There is something poetic – or harrowing from the adverse perspective – about the ‘Welsh Mayweather’ finishing his journey here. The man who made a career out of being untouchable is now entering a world where everyone gets touched.
If Selby can translate his matrix-like movement to the bareknuckle circuit, he could become the sport’s greatest ambassador for technical proficiency. If the years have slowed those feet, however, the world will witness a very different, much bloodier side of the Barry legend.
One thing is certain: when the wraps come off and the referee says “toe the line,” the Welsh wizard will have our undivided attention. One last dance. No gloves. Little room for error. And certainly no excuses.