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BRADFORD, ENGLAND
Jake Pollard says the words with conviction.
The 33-year-old leans back and takes a slow sip of his lager. He smiles, revealing a gap where a tooth once sat on the right side of his mouth, and never once breaks eye contact.
The Bradford-born boxer is smartly dressed — a navy shirt with white floral details, tucked into dark denim jeans, the look finished with a gold chain peeking from his collar. It matches the weighty signet ring on his hand, engraved with his initials: JP.
It’s a grey Thursday afternoon in West Yorkshire, and we’ve met in an uncomplicated pub in the heart of Bradford's city center. The clock’s barely past noon, but the place is already filling with regulars — pints of bitter and cider in hand, the low hum of conversation echoing off the walls, and a ‘90s pop playlist drowning out the sound of the rain spitting against the dirt-streaked windows.
“But journeyman isn’t an offensive term at all,” he states. “It’s a badge of honor.”
Jake (1-100, 0 KOs) speaks to Uncrowned just a fortnight after his 101st professional fight and 100th professional defeat. On October's Joseph Parker vs. Fabio Wardley undercard at London’s O2 Arena, he was stopped for only the sixth time in his career — this time by rising prospect Hassan Ishaq (2-0, 2 KOs). The defeat itself didn’t surprise him; the attention that followed did. Broadcast live on DAZN, Jake's performance — and the story behind it — struck a chord far beyond the usual diehards of the sport.
“I guess it’s a weird concept for people to understand if they're not in the game,” he concedes. “I try to explain my role as best I can. I’m there to turn up, test these prospects and see if they are any good or not. I’m that first rung on their ladder — but if they aren’t up to it, they will be quick to find out once I hit them!”
I offer Jake some help. The Oxford Dictionary definition of journeyman reads: “A worker or sports player who is reliable but not outstanding.” Jake leans on that definition, not with resentment, but with acceptance — treating his craft as a vocation, a trade to be worked at, mastered, and turned into a living. Reliability, after all, is the currency that keeps men like him employed.
“I can usually plan my fights in advance, sometimes five or six weekends back-to-back,” he says. “But this fight [with Ishaq] was a little different from normal, as it wasn’t confirmed until the Thursday night before.
“So I took my son to my mum’s house on Friday morning — which was lucky, as he had it off school anyway — and I headed straight to London [200 miles] in time for the weigh-in. It’s a calculated risk with a fight like this one, so you’ve got to be ready to negotiate your purse. They [boxing promotors] think they can offer you an extra £200 quid ($264) to take on a top prospect and you’ll be jumping for joy, but you’ve got to look into the future and treat your body like the business it is.
“If I get stopped, I won’t be able to fight, as the British Boxing Board of Control will ban me for 28 days. So that’s essentially me not getting paid for a month. If I am willing to fight someone who can potentially stop me, then I need to make sure I get paid, double, triple than normal — and that’s doable, especially if it’s a TV fight.”
Pollard's fight against Hassan Ishaq came on the undercard of one the UK's bigger events of 2025.
Richard Pelham via Getty Images
Jake is understandably coy in talking figures, but for your typical weekend four-rounder he says he can pocket around £1,400 (≈$1,867) per fight. “It’s alright, isn’t it?” he asks. “When you consider that a lot of people will work for 10 hours, five days a week, and earn maybe half of that — it’s serious money. And I’m getting it in one night and can drive home the same evening!”
“It’s a pretty low pressure job," he adds. "When you’re the B-side of a fight on the circuit, all you have to do is show up. You don’t have to worry about selling tickets and it doesn’t take over your whole week; not even a whole weekend. I can be playing football with my son in the park, drop him off, go to a fight and be home that evening.”
Jake seems to relish talking about his craft. He speaks like a man who has been waiting for his moment to be heard — energy taut in his voice, enthusiasm coiled and ready to spring. He leans forward, forearms pressing against the sticky, beer-soaked table, and begins to explain how it all started.
“I was a bit of a late starter at 21, and I quickly realized that the amateur scene wasn’t for me," he says. "It just felt a bit too scripted, too boring and full of miserable old-fashioned officials. [My father and I] got in a few arguments and were treated like s*** — it was more than enough for me to decide to knock it on the head.
“I was then introduced to the white-collar scene by my coach at the time and it felt like a different, more exciting world. Basically, you’re fighting lads who were in the pub most of the week and just fancied a scrap at the weekend. Just normal guys — they didn’t think they were better than anyone else. I guess it was an escape; a release for some of these fighters.”
White-collar boxing has edged its way into the sport’s mainstream consciousness in recent years. A form of amateur boxing in which participants — usually individuals with no prior experience, who often work in professional careers — undergo several weeks of structured training before competing in a single, supervised bout.
The concept began in New York during the 1980s and has since grown into a global phenomenon, driven largely by goals of fitness, personal challenge and charitable fundraising. Fighters are carefully matched by weight, age and experience to ensure fairness, while events prioritize safety through strict rules, protective equipment, medical oversight and a referee focused on participant well-being.
Rather than serving as a pathway to professional boxing, white-collar shows emphasize discipline, confidence building and the experience of stepping into the ring in a controlled and regulated environment.
But some fighters break that mold — the most recent example being current WBO heavyweight champion Fabio Wardley.
Wardley remains a genuine anomaly — a fighter who learned his trade on the white-collar circuit before making a seamless transition into the professional ranks. Traditionally, that scene was the domain of bouncers, doormen, security staff — the big, rugged weekend warriors looking to blow off steam in the shadows.
Like Wardley, Jake found his footing in that same, largely hidden world. It was an unconventional entry point into the sport's paid ranks, but for fighters like him, it offered structure, purpose and a ring in which to belong.
“When I first started, [white-collar event promoters] were selling tickets for around £25 and I was able to make £5 commission on that," he says. "But then, as I got more and more fights, I was making £50, £100, £250. I was going up and down the country — places like Leeds, Newcastle, Manchester — and became a bit of a white-collar journeyman.
“My second amateur coach, Peter Cannon, said to me: ‘Why are you doing this in the white-collar scene when you could do it in the pros and make real money?’ It then twigged that I could actually turn this into a career.”
If you don't belong among the pro ranks, fighters like Pollard are there to sniff you out. (Photo via Jake Pollard)
In October 2018, Jake made the jump into the professional ranks, beginning with a four-rounder in Nottingham against southpaw Delmar Thomas (then 1-0), which he lost 40-35 on the referee’s scorecard, eating the canvas in the second round. He quickly got a taste of what life could look like traveling the UK’s small-hall circuit. Promoters and managers started calling — sometimes with only a few hours’ notice — looking for a reliable test for their prospects. Jake took the work, wherever it came, operating anywhere in the three divisions between 120 and 130 pounds and building a reputation for turning up ready, no excuses.
“The away corner dressing room is like a community,” he says. “You know you’re all there expecting to lose, but you look out for each other and share stories. Everyone in the hall or arena from the opposition team, the promotor, all the fans, want you to lose — they want to see you laid out on your back covered in blood. They’re sickos, really. So you feel a bit like a caged dog going into a dog fight. It’s only you and your coach that want the opposite.”
Across a 49-fight stretch from Oct. 2018 to July 2023, Jake heard the final bell 45 times, cementing his status as one of the most durable and dependable journeymen on the circuit.
In that run he faced 14 debutants and 13 fighters in their second outing, quietly becoming the benchmark for assessing new talent. And some new of that talent hit harder than others.
“If I am in with a heavier opponent, it’s always going to be a harder night’s work for me as they’ll typically have the bigger punch," he says. "It’s a fine balance of getting on my bike with those fighters and trying to box off the back foot, but at the same letting them know that I’m not simply a punch-bag.
“Brandon Scott is a name that jumps out." He pauses to recall the now 8-0 featherweight who debuted against him in 2022. "[Scott] was really talented — super quick and hard to read. But then again, the guy I fought the other week [Ishaq] would have to make that list now, but I think that has a lot to do with his strength and size.
“Chris Bourke [former WBC International super bantamweight champion] was another one — I probably shouldn’t have been in there with him. It was only my third fight, so why was I fighting someone who used to fight with Team [Great Britain]?” he ponders. “It seems stupid now.
“But if we’re talking pound-for-pound, then I’ll have to give that to Jack Williams, who I fought in Ipswich last October. I think what was most impressive about him was that we weighed the same, but he punched so hard — probably the hardest I have been in with and he only weighed 120 pounds. He punched holes in me.”
Yet it was Jake's 50th fight that stands apart today — and not due to the caliber of the opponent.
On paper, it was a day like any other as he traveled down to London’s iconic York Hall to test Surrey-based debutant Louis Smithson over four rounds. Their contest opened a TM14 Promotions show, headlined by a vacant Southern Arena title bout between welterweights Inder Bassi and Alfie Winter.
“If I am being honest, I was a bit tired that day,” Jake explains. “I had got back from holiday just a few days before, and had spent the morning with my son — I think we were either down the play park or playing football. But that’s not exactly out of the ordinary. Once, I traveled straight from Heathrow airport after a long haul flight back from the United States, straight into York Hall with my suitcase.
“But this day [against Smithson] was pretty unremarkable on the whole. I always go into a fight with the same intentions, but I think the way he fought just bought out the best in me. If I am not pushed back — like most hard-hitting prospects will do — then I am just going to keep coming forward and throwing punches as normal.”
The commentary team opined, but in Jake's eyes, he was simply fighting the way he always does.
After 12 minutes of action, the referee raised Jake's hand for the first time in his professional career, nudging his record to 1-49. Smithson shook his head in disappointment.
The reaction online wasn’t kind — including articles written by English national newspapers. “Imagine being the one guy that lost to him,” one widely shared Reddit post sneered.
Louis Smithson (1-6, 0 KOs) picks up my call on a blustery Sunday evening. The 29-year-old has every reason to be slightly wary of my intentions — he’s well aware of the recent wave of negative headlines targeting fighters like himself and Jake.
“I really don’t care,” Smithson says. “These guys writing those posts and headlines have never stepped foot in a boxing gym, let alone a ring. And the biggest thing is they don’t understand the business of boxing at all — that includes so-called real boxing fans.”
Smithson, now retired from the fight game and Head of Operations at a successful building materials delivery company in London, quickly realized that he didn’t have the same desire to tread the unrelenting path of a journeyman.
“I nearly fell into the same path as Jake,” he explains. Like Pollard, his sole professional victory came against the other man; Smithson won a four-round rematch two months later. “Most guys end up on that path because of the pressures of ticket sales — it has nothing to do with their talent as a fighter.
“It’s a tough gig if you want to build a career as an A-side fighter. To break even, you’ll have to sell well over 100 tickets to your fights, once you factor in the costs of paying for your training camp, opponent, house fees, promoters fees, etc.”
Brian Stokes punches Jake Pollard during their super bantamweight fight in February 2022. Stokes won by decision.
Lewis Storey via Getty Images
Smithson’s defeat to the then 0-49 Pollard came in 2023 in his pro debut. After switching from the amateur scene into the world of MMA, the Staines-upon-Thames-born fighter took the leap into the professional game after a barren spell of activity during the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It was a surprise to me,” Jake recalls of Smithson’s performance. “He just didn’t throw enough punches. If he did … he would probably have got the win.”
“I think I just got in my own head,” Smithson confirms. “There was a lot of pressure on me that night and it wasn’t how I expected it to be. There were a lot of people there supporting me — inside the Mecca of British boxing, York Hall — and the occasion got to me.
“But what people need to remember is that these journeymen are good fighters. People look at a record like Jake’s and think, ‘He must be s***,' but it couldn’t be further from the truth. If they wanted to, they could be getting wins and draws, at least, every week. But then would they get booked to fight the next weekend if they are seen as a threat to a prospect?
“These aren’t just stupid guys getting punched in the head each week for fun. It’s a savvy business move.”
“People said to me that evening, ‘You didn’t look too happy when you won!’" Jake says, more than two years later. “But I think I was just more surprised than anything. No matter how well you box, you never truly believe you are going to get the result. The game’s the game, you know?
“The referee lifted up my hand and I thought, ‘Oh s***, I’ve actually won this!’ ... I posted something on my Facebook afterward and there were a load of people congratulating me on getting a win, but I can’t say I felt much different. Just another day at the office getting paid."
Jake put his foot down following his one and only win to date as a professional, boxing 231 rounds over the next 777 days — an average of a four-round fight every 13 days.
I ask for Jake's forgiveness before asking his opinion on a comparison that was raised in the aforementioned Reddit post. Glass Joe is a fictional character from Nintendo's "Punch-Out!!" video game series, made infamous for being the player’s first opponent in nearly all versions of the game.
Glass Joe’s record is set at 1-99, a record Pollard eclipsed in his most recent outing. The character's lone professional win came through what the series' lore describes as a “freak accident.” The opponent in that unusual victory has long been rumored to be Nick Bruiser — or possibly his brother, Rick — from "Super Punch-Out!!," who was said to have lost under unconventional, almost farcical circumstances.
There was nothing farcical about Jake's win over Smithson, but was it, in his eyes, an accident?
“On reflection, I guess I didn’t really mind if I won or lost," he says. "As long as I am enjoying myself and getting paid, that’s the only thing I am particularly bothered about. I guess if I started winning loads of fights then, perhaps, I would stop getting booked as an away fighter?
“I’ve been called worse things [than Glass Joe], trust me, but that doesn’t bother me. But I did feel a little bit sorry for Smithson after the fight and some of the headlines that it generated, as he wouldn’t have been used to that or expected it.
“The thing is, he would smash them all to pieces. It would be interesting to line all these guys up who write this stuff in a ring and see how good they are themselves.”
Away from the ring, Jake earns another living as a farrier. Tending to horses’ hooves and shoes — particularly through the winter months — is hardly work for the faint-hearted. Which of his two professions he considers the "side hustle" is up for debate, but he’s unequivocal about which one carries the greater risk.
“Oh mate, it’s a dangerous game,” he explains, eyes widening as if to punctuate the jeopardy. “And my body, especially my back, is shot to bits because of it. Just think in the winter, baltic conditions, bending down in the pissing rain and mud, trying to pick up a horse’s leg. Then there’s a half-a-ton animal leaning on you, pulling you and you’re trying not to get kicked in the head.
“Getting in a ring with someone who weighs nine stone (126 pounds) doesn’t seem so bad when you’ve got a horse dragging you about, does it?”
It brings us neatly onto Jake's health. Aside from a stiff back — the inevitable price of life as a farrier — you wouldn’t suspect he spends most weekends losing boxing matches. His face is unmarked, his skin looks fresh, and his beard is trimmed with care.
Jake Pollard has made the ring his home more than 100 times over the past seven years. (Photo via Jake Pollard)
“I’ve never had to go to hospital after a fight or gone home in an ambulance, so in my eyes I have 101 wins,” he explains. “It just depends what you want to get out of the sport, and I feel like I have a healthy relationship coming out with money and my health intact. I know how to protect myself in there and not take punishment, which is obviously very important. It’s a skill in itself. There is no point in me going into a fight, taking a risk and getting chinned.
“Being a journeyman has given me more in life than I ever thought possible. I get to take my son on holidays — we’ve been to Lapland, Spain every year and Legoland this Christmas — so I’ve won. And in reality, the only person’s opinion that matters is his."
Jake turns 34 next year and knows his career in the sport has a shelf life. No matter how diligent he remains in preparation and execution, Father Time famously holds a perfect boxing record.
He also manages another, younger journeyman, Nabil Ahmed (3-47-3, 0 KOs), whom Jake helps steer through the shark-infested waters of life as an away fighter. Three years his junior, Ahmed is already benefitting from Jake's experience on the road, particularly when it comes to spotting — and swerving — the tricks opposition managers try to pull during negotiations.
“Boxing can be a dirty sport,” Ahmed explains. “But [Jake’s] always protecting me. There are always people trying to get one over on you — give you less money or even get some extra weight on you — but Jake is so sharp on that stuff. Even if an opponent is two or three pounds over the weight limit, he’ll make them pay up a fine.”
Ahmed met Jake five years ago inside Dicky’s Gym in Batley, West Yorkshire. Matched early with him in a gym spar, Ahmed’s survival instincts impressed Jake, who saw real potential. But was Ahmed easily convinced down this path of the away fighter?
“I was, to be honest,” he says. “It’s not easy, but it’s so worth it. This career keeps me fit and it’s good money — it’s a job at the end of the day. Jake’s done a lot for me — he’s a real friend. He checks up on me after every fight and is very organized. I couldn’t do it without him. He keeps me busy and will only put me forward for fights that he knows I can get through — he won’t take any risks.
“We’ve got each other's backs. There was this one guy that beat Jake [Samir Aftab] who I was then matched with later that year, and Jake goes to me: ‘Go in there and get the win for me.’ It was on television as well [England's Channel 5] and I ended up beating him [58-57 on the referee’s scorecard]. We went to McDonald’s afterward and had a McFlurry to celebrate.
Dec. 01, 2023: Nabil Ahmed celebrates after victory after a bantamweight fight against Samir Aftab.
Lewis Storey via Getty Images
“But in reality, it’s pretty simple being a journeyman: Giving the prospect rounds and getting out of there safely. These prospects wouldn’t be anywhere without us.”
Ahmed’s glowing appraisal of his mentor — both as a manager and as a man — is easy to believe. He speaks of Jake as a devoted father to his young son, Roman, whom Jake looks after for half of the week in tandem with Roman’s mother, and a committed partner to his girlfriend, Reanne, whom Jake has been together with since June 2024.
“[Reanne] understands the game now,” Jake says. “But I am not sure she did at the start.
“She enjoys coming now — I think she enjoys most of it. She gets a bit anxious with the big crowds and stuff. So when we go to a venue, I try to find somewhere comfortable and out of the way for her to watch.
“I was the main event in a fight in Ireland that I took her to, and my opponent sold a lot of tickets. All his fans were screaming all sorts of stuff — pretty unsavory. I didn't want her close to that as she’s a bit feisty as well.”
The key to a fighter’s heart is so often found in the person they go home to. Strip away the bravado, the machismo, the snarling exterior the sport demands, and it’s behind the front door — not under bright lights — where the truth actually lives.
“I’m very proud of Jake,” Reanne says. “I am probably the only one that gets to see how dedicated he is — it’s a way of life. In the changing rooms on fight night he gets so much respect and attention from everyone else on the circuit. Everyone knows who he is, and wants to shake his hand.
“I guess it gets more nerve-wracking the more fights he has. Bodies aren’t made to take the punches that a journeyman is exposed to. You see these fighters that have one or two fights in a blue moon, but Jake is in the ring pretty much every weekend. So it is worrying.
“But Jake is very open and honest about his fights. He knows when he’s in for a harder night’s work than usual and he’ll tell me so — I guess these are the ones I get worried about. We would only take the kids along if it’s a fight that he has said will be ‘easier’ than most — you know, one that it’s unlikely that he’s going to get his head taken off.”
Across 100 losses, Jake Pollard has only been knocked out six times.
Richard Pelham via Getty Images
A fighting Jake is all Reanne has ever known — the early-morning runs, the bruised knuckles and daily gym sessions. It’s the rhythm of their life together. And yet, you can’t help but wonder: If she had the power to rewrite his story, to throw the towel in on his career, would she dare to?
“It’s hard to say. It would be very selfish," Reanne says. "I don’t think I would — it’s not just a job, it’s his life. When he gets beaten by stoppage and has to take four weeks off, I see the impact that has on Jake. It’s not nice to see. He copes very well with routine and structure, and this sport does that for him.”
Jake's latest suspension was lifted at the end of November. He's already set to return to the ring back inside Liverpool’s Grand Central Hall this Sunday, Dec. 7. He’ll walk to the ring for the 102nd time as a professional against an Afghanistan-born 20-year-old, Safiullah Sediqi (3-1-1, 0 KOs).
The mission remains the same as always.
“If I can get back home that evening, then that'll be the perfect outcome,” he explains. “Imagine I wake up in a hospital in Liverpool the morning after, I’d be so annoyed at myself, so that’s the motivation for me.
“The fact that I can be back home, playing football with Roman in the morning, means I’ve won again. The people that I love know that I am not going to take unnecessary risks in this career. I won’t be a hero for these promoters that want to see you get your head bashed in."
“A victory is how you frame it,” he adds, smiling.
And as he says it, there’s no arrogance in the room — just a man who has learned the difference between surviving and merely lasting. Boxing has a way of stripping you bare, of peeling back every layer until only the truth remains. Jake Pollard’s truth isn’t measured in belts or broadcast slots or the roar that greets a walkout.
Maybe that’s what makes him most dangerous in the end — not the power in his hands, but the clarity in his purpose. He fights with the knowledge that the real world waits for him just beyond the ropes — Roman’s boots by the door, pinging a ball to him across the Yorkshire moors, the life he’s already built calling him home.
He stands, stretches, and rolls his shoulders like a man easing his way into the last round of a long night. “I’m winning in my own way,” he concludes.
You get the sense he already has.
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— “People can call me what they like. B-side fighter, professional loser, scumbag, piece of s*** — I’ve had it all. And honestly? I couldn’t care less.” Jake Pollard says the words with conviction.
The 33-year-old leans back and takes a slow sip of his lager. He smiles, revealing a gap where a tooth once sat on the right side of his mouth, and never once breaks eye contact.
The Bradford-born boxer is smartly dressed — a navy shirt with white floral details, tucked into dark denim jeans, the look finished with a gold chain peeking from his collar. It matches the weighty signet ring on his hand, engraved with his initials: JP.
It’s a grey Thursday afternoon in West Yorkshire, and we’ve met in an uncomplicated pub in the heart of Bradford's city center. The clock’s barely past noon, but the place is already filling with regulars — pints of bitter and cider in hand, the low hum of conversation echoing off the walls, and a ‘90s pop playlist drowning out the sound of the rain spitting against the dirt-streaked windows.
“But journeyman isn’t an offensive term at all,” he states. “It’s a badge of honor.”
Jake (1-100, 0 KOs) speaks to Uncrowned just a fortnight after his 101st professional fight and 100th professional defeat. On October's Joseph Parker vs. Fabio Wardley undercard at London’s O2 Arena, he was stopped for only the sixth time in his career — this time by rising prospect Hassan Ishaq (2-0, 2 KOs). The defeat itself didn’t surprise him; the attention that followed did. Broadcast live on DAZN, Jake's performance — and the story behind it — struck a chord far beyond the usual diehards of the sport.
“I guess it’s a weird concept for people to understand if they're not in the game,” he concedes. “I try to explain my role as best I can. I’m there to turn up, test these prospects and see if they are any good or not. I’m that first rung on their ladder — but if they aren’t up to it, they will be quick to find out once I hit them!”
I offer Jake some help. The Oxford Dictionary definition of journeyman reads: “A worker or sports player who is reliable but not outstanding.” Jake leans on that definition, not with resentment, but with acceptance — treating his craft as a vocation, a trade to be worked at, mastered, and turned into a living. Reliability, after all, is the currency that keeps men like him employed.
“I can usually plan my fights in advance, sometimes five or six weekends back-to-back,” he says. “But this fight [with Ishaq] was a little different from normal, as it wasn’t confirmed until the Thursday night before.
“So I took my son to my mum’s house on Friday morning — which was lucky, as he had it off school anyway — and I headed straight to London [200 miles] in time for the weigh-in. It’s a calculated risk with a fight like this one, so you’ve got to be ready to negotiate your purse. They [boxing promotors] think they can offer you an extra £200 quid ($264) to take on a top prospect and you’ll be jumping for joy, but you’ve got to look into the future and treat your body like the business it is.
“If I get stopped, I won’t be able to fight, as the British Boxing Board of Control will ban me for 28 days. So that’s essentially me not getting paid for a month. If I am willing to fight someone who can potentially stop me, then I need to make sure I get paid, double, triple than normal — and that’s doable, especially if it’s a TV fight.”
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Pollard's fight against Hassan Ishaq came on the undercard of one the UK's bigger events of 2025.
Richard Pelham via Getty Images
Jake is understandably coy in talking figures, but for your typical weekend four-rounder he says he can pocket around £1,400 (≈$1,867) per fight. “It’s alright, isn’t it?” he asks. “When you consider that a lot of people will work for 10 hours, five days a week, and earn maybe half of that — it’s serious money. And I’m getting it in one night and can drive home the same evening!”
“It’s a pretty low pressure job," he adds. "When you’re the B-side of a fight on the circuit, all you have to do is show up. You don’t have to worry about selling tickets and it doesn’t take over your whole week; not even a whole weekend. I can be playing football with my son in the park, drop him off, go to a fight and be home that evening.”
Jake seems to relish talking about his craft. He speaks like a man who has been waiting for his moment to be heard — energy taut in his voice, enthusiasm coiled and ready to spring. He leans forward, forearms pressing against the sticky, beer-soaked table, and begins to explain how it all started.
“I was a bit of a late starter at 21, and I quickly realized that the amateur scene wasn’t for me," he says. "It just felt a bit too scripted, too boring and full of miserable old-fashioned officials. [My father and I] got in a few arguments and were treated like s*** — it was more than enough for me to decide to knock it on the head.
“I was then introduced to the white-collar scene by my coach at the time and it felt like a different, more exciting world. Basically, you’re fighting lads who were in the pub most of the week and just fancied a scrap at the weekend. Just normal guys — they didn’t think they were better than anyone else. I guess it was an escape; a release for some of these fighters.”
White-collar boxing has edged its way into the sport’s mainstream consciousness in recent years. A form of amateur boxing in which participants — usually individuals with no prior experience, who often work in professional careers — undergo several weeks of structured training before competing in a single, supervised bout.
The concept began in New York during the 1980s and has since grown into a global phenomenon, driven largely by goals of fitness, personal challenge and charitable fundraising. Fighters are carefully matched by weight, age and experience to ensure fairness, while events prioritize safety through strict rules, protective equipment, medical oversight and a referee focused on participant well-being.
Rather than serving as a pathway to professional boxing, white-collar shows emphasize discipline, confidence building and the experience of stepping into the ring in a controlled and regulated environment.
But some fighters break that mold — the most recent example being current WBO heavyweight champion Fabio Wardley.
Wardley remains a genuine anomaly — a fighter who learned his trade on the white-collar circuit before making a seamless transition into the professional ranks. Traditionally, that scene was the domain of bouncers, doormen, security staff — the big, rugged weekend warriors looking to blow off steam in the shadows.
Like Wardley, Jake found his footing in that same, largely hidden world. It was an unconventional entry point into the sport's paid ranks, but for fighters like him, it offered structure, purpose and a ring in which to belong.
“When I first started, [white-collar event promoters] were selling tickets for around £25 and I was able to make £5 commission on that," he says. "But then, as I got more and more fights, I was making £50, £100, £250. I was going up and down the country — places like Leeds, Newcastle, Manchester — and became a bit of a white-collar journeyman.
“My second amateur coach, Peter Cannon, said to me: ‘Why are you doing this in the white-collar scene when you could do it in the pros and make real money?’ It then twigged that I could actually turn this into a career.”
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If you don't belong among the pro ranks, fighters like Pollard are there to sniff you out. (Photo via Jake Pollard)
In October 2018, Jake made the jump into the professional ranks, beginning with a four-rounder in Nottingham against southpaw Delmar Thomas (then 1-0), which he lost 40-35 on the referee’s scorecard, eating the canvas in the second round. He quickly got a taste of what life could look like traveling the UK’s small-hall circuit. Promoters and managers started calling — sometimes with only a few hours’ notice — looking for a reliable test for their prospects. Jake took the work, wherever it came, operating anywhere in the three divisions between 120 and 130 pounds and building a reputation for turning up ready, no excuses.
“The away corner dressing room is like a community,” he says. “You know you’re all there expecting to lose, but you look out for each other and share stories. Everyone in the hall or arena from the opposition team, the promotor, all the fans, want you to lose — they want to see you laid out on your back covered in blood. They’re sickos, really. So you feel a bit like a caged dog going into a dog fight. It’s only you and your coach that want the opposite.”
Across a 49-fight stretch from Oct. 2018 to July 2023, Jake heard the final bell 45 times, cementing his status as one of the most durable and dependable journeymen on the circuit.
In that run he faced 14 debutants and 13 fighters in their second outing, quietly becoming the benchmark for assessing new talent. And some new of that talent hit harder than others.
“If I am in with a heavier opponent, it’s always going to be a harder night’s work for me as they’ll typically have the bigger punch," he says. "It’s a fine balance of getting on my bike with those fighters and trying to box off the back foot, but at the same letting them know that I’m not simply a punch-bag.
“Brandon Scott is a name that jumps out." He pauses to recall the now 8-0 featherweight who debuted against him in 2022. "[Scott] was really talented — super quick and hard to read. But then again, the guy I fought the other week [Ishaq] would have to make that list now, but I think that has a lot to do with his strength and size.
“Chris Bourke [former WBC International super bantamweight champion] was another one — I probably shouldn’t have been in there with him. It was only my third fight, so why was I fighting someone who used to fight with Team [Great Britain]?” he ponders. “It seems stupid now.
“But if we’re talking pound-for-pound, then I’ll have to give that to Jack Williams, who I fought in Ipswich last October. I think what was most impressive about him was that we weighed the same, but he punched so hard — probably the hardest I have been in with and he only weighed 120 pounds. He punched holes in me.”
Yet it was Jake's 50th fight that stands apart today — and not due to the caliber of the opponent.
On paper, it was a day like any other as he traveled down to London’s iconic York Hall to test Surrey-based debutant Louis Smithson over four rounds. Their contest opened a TM14 Promotions show, headlined by a vacant Southern Arena title bout between welterweights Inder Bassi and Alfie Winter.
“If I am being honest, I was a bit tired that day,” Jake explains. “I had got back from holiday just a few days before, and had spent the morning with my son — I think we were either down the play park or playing football. But that’s not exactly out of the ordinary. Once, I traveled straight from Heathrow airport after a long haul flight back from the United States, straight into York Hall with my suitcase.
“But this day [against Smithson] was pretty unremarkable on the whole. I always go into a fight with the same intentions, but I think the way he fought just bought out the best in me. If I am not pushed back — like most hard-hitting prospects will do — then I am just going to keep coming forward and throwing punches as normal.”
The commentary team opined, but in Jake's eyes, he was simply fighting the way he always does.
After 12 minutes of action, the referee raised Jake's hand for the first time in his professional career, nudging his record to 1-49. Smithson shook his head in disappointment.
The reaction online wasn’t kind — including articles written by English national newspapers. “Imagine being the one guy that lost to him,” one widely shared Reddit post sneered.
Louis Smithson (1-6, 0 KOs) picks up my call on a blustery Sunday evening. The 29-year-old has every reason to be slightly wary of my intentions — he’s well aware of the recent wave of negative headlines targeting fighters like himself and Jake.
“I really don’t care,” Smithson says. “These guys writing those posts and headlines have never stepped foot in a boxing gym, let alone a ring. And the biggest thing is they don’t understand the business of boxing at all — that includes so-called real boxing fans.”
Smithson, now retired from the fight game and Head of Operations at a successful building materials delivery company in London, quickly realized that he didn’t have the same desire to tread the unrelenting path of a journeyman.
“I nearly fell into the same path as Jake,” he explains. Like Pollard, his sole professional victory came against the other man; Smithson won a four-round rematch two months later. “Most guys end up on that path because of the pressures of ticket sales — it has nothing to do with their talent as a fighter.
“It’s a tough gig if you want to build a career as an A-side fighter. To break even, you’ll have to sell well over 100 tickets to your fights, once you factor in the costs of paying for your training camp, opponent, house fees, promoters fees, etc.”
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Brian Stokes punches Jake Pollard during their super bantamweight fight in February 2022. Stokes won by decision.
Lewis Storey via Getty Images
Smithson’s defeat to the then 0-49 Pollard came in 2023 in his pro debut. After switching from the amateur scene into the world of MMA, the Staines-upon-Thames-born fighter took the leap into the professional game after a barren spell of activity during the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It was a surprise to me,” Jake recalls of Smithson’s performance. “He just didn’t throw enough punches. If he did … he would probably have got the win.”
“I think I just got in my own head,” Smithson confirms. “There was a lot of pressure on me that night and it wasn’t how I expected it to be. There were a lot of people there supporting me — inside the Mecca of British boxing, York Hall — and the occasion got to me.
“But what people need to remember is that these journeymen are good fighters. People look at a record like Jake’s and think, ‘He must be s***,' but it couldn’t be further from the truth. If they wanted to, they could be getting wins and draws, at least, every week. But then would they get booked to fight the next weekend if they are seen as a threat to a prospect?
“These aren’t just stupid guys getting punched in the head each week for fun. It’s a savvy business move.”
“People said to me that evening, ‘You didn’t look too happy when you won!’" Jake says, more than two years later. “But I think I was just more surprised than anything. No matter how well you box, you never truly believe you are going to get the result. The game’s the game, you know?
“The referee lifted up my hand and I thought, ‘Oh s***, I’ve actually won this!’ ... I posted something on my Facebook afterward and there were a load of people congratulating me on getting a win, but I can’t say I felt much different. Just another day at the office getting paid."
Jake put his foot down following his one and only win to date as a professional, boxing 231 rounds over the next 777 days — an average of a four-round fight every 13 days.
I ask for Jake's forgiveness before asking his opinion on a comparison that was raised in the aforementioned Reddit post. Glass Joe is a fictional character from Nintendo's "Punch-Out!!" video game series, made infamous for being the player’s first opponent in nearly all versions of the game.
Glass Joe’s record is set at 1-99, a record Pollard eclipsed in his most recent outing. The character's lone professional win came through what the series' lore describes as a “freak accident.” The opponent in that unusual victory has long been rumored to be Nick Bruiser — or possibly his brother, Rick — from "Super Punch-Out!!," who was said to have lost under unconventional, almost farcical circumstances.
There was nothing farcical about Jake's win over Smithson, but was it, in his eyes, an accident?
“On reflection, I guess I didn’t really mind if I won or lost," he says. "As long as I am enjoying myself and getting paid, that’s the only thing I am particularly bothered about. I guess if I started winning loads of fights then, perhaps, I would stop getting booked as an away fighter?
“I’ve been called worse things [than Glass Joe], trust me, but that doesn’t bother me. But I did feel a little bit sorry for Smithson after the fight and some of the headlines that it generated, as he wouldn’t have been used to that or expected it.
“The thing is, he would smash them all to pieces. It would be interesting to line all these guys up who write this stuff in a ring and see how good they are themselves.”
Away from the ring, Jake earns another living as a farrier. Tending to horses’ hooves and shoes — particularly through the winter months — is hardly work for the faint-hearted. Which of his two professions he considers the "side hustle" is up for debate, but he’s unequivocal about which one carries the greater risk.
“Oh mate, it’s a dangerous game,” he explains, eyes widening as if to punctuate the jeopardy. “And my body, especially my back, is shot to bits because of it. Just think in the winter, baltic conditions, bending down in the pissing rain and mud, trying to pick up a horse’s leg. Then there’s a half-a-ton animal leaning on you, pulling you and you’re trying not to get kicked in the head.
“Getting in a ring with someone who weighs nine stone (126 pounds) doesn’t seem so bad when you’ve got a horse dragging you about, does it?”
It brings us neatly onto Jake's health. Aside from a stiff back — the inevitable price of life as a farrier — you wouldn’t suspect he spends most weekends losing boxing matches. His face is unmarked, his skin looks fresh, and his beard is trimmed with care.
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Jake Pollard has made the ring his home more than 100 times over the past seven years. (Photo via Jake Pollard)
“I’ve never had to go to hospital after a fight or gone home in an ambulance, so in my eyes I have 101 wins,” he explains. “It just depends what you want to get out of the sport, and I feel like I have a healthy relationship coming out with money and my health intact. I know how to protect myself in there and not take punishment, which is obviously very important. It’s a skill in itself. There is no point in me going into a fight, taking a risk and getting chinned.
“Being a journeyman has given me more in life than I ever thought possible. I get to take my son on holidays — we’ve been to Lapland, Spain every year and Legoland this Christmas — so I’ve won. And in reality, the only person’s opinion that matters is his."
Jake turns 34 next year and knows his career in the sport has a shelf life. No matter how diligent he remains in preparation and execution, Father Time famously holds a perfect boxing record.
He also manages another, younger journeyman, Nabil Ahmed (3-47-3, 0 KOs), whom Jake helps steer through the shark-infested waters of life as an away fighter. Three years his junior, Ahmed is already benefitting from Jake's experience on the road, particularly when it comes to spotting — and swerving — the tricks opposition managers try to pull during negotiations.
“Boxing can be a dirty sport,” Ahmed explains. “But [Jake’s] always protecting me. There are always people trying to get one over on you — give you less money or even get some extra weight on you — but Jake is so sharp on that stuff. Even if an opponent is two or three pounds over the weight limit, he’ll make them pay up a fine.”
Ahmed met Jake five years ago inside Dicky’s Gym in Batley, West Yorkshire. Matched early with him in a gym spar, Ahmed’s survival instincts impressed Jake, who saw real potential. But was Ahmed easily convinced down this path of the away fighter?
“I was, to be honest,” he says. “It’s not easy, but it’s so worth it. This career keeps me fit and it’s good money — it’s a job at the end of the day. Jake’s done a lot for me — he’s a real friend. He checks up on me after every fight and is very organized. I couldn’t do it without him. He keeps me busy and will only put me forward for fights that he knows I can get through — he won’t take any risks.
“We’ve got each other's backs. There was this one guy that beat Jake [Samir Aftab] who I was then matched with later that year, and Jake goes to me: ‘Go in there and get the win for me.’ It was on television as well [England's Channel 5] and I ended up beating him [58-57 on the referee’s scorecard]. We went to McDonald’s afterward and had a McFlurry to celebrate.
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Dec. 01, 2023: Nabil Ahmed celebrates after victory after a bantamweight fight against Samir Aftab.
Lewis Storey via Getty Images
“But in reality, it’s pretty simple being a journeyman: Giving the prospect rounds and getting out of there safely. These prospects wouldn’t be anywhere without us.”
Ahmed’s glowing appraisal of his mentor — both as a manager and as a man — is easy to believe. He speaks of Jake as a devoted father to his young son, Roman, whom Jake looks after for half of the week in tandem with Roman’s mother, and a committed partner to his girlfriend, Reanne, whom Jake has been together with since June 2024.
“[Reanne] understands the game now,” Jake says. “But I am not sure she did at the start.
“She enjoys coming now — I think she enjoys most of it. She gets a bit anxious with the big crowds and stuff. So when we go to a venue, I try to find somewhere comfortable and out of the way for her to watch.
“I was the main event in a fight in Ireland that I took her to, and my opponent sold a lot of tickets. All his fans were screaming all sorts of stuff — pretty unsavory. I didn't want her close to that as she’s a bit feisty as well.”
The key to a fighter’s heart is so often found in the person they go home to. Strip away the bravado, the machismo, the snarling exterior the sport demands, and it’s behind the front door — not under bright lights — where the truth actually lives.
“I’m very proud of Jake,” Reanne says. “I am probably the only one that gets to see how dedicated he is — it’s a way of life. In the changing rooms on fight night he gets so much respect and attention from everyone else on the circuit. Everyone knows who he is, and wants to shake his hand.
“I guess it gets more nerve-wracking the more fights he has. Bodies aren’t made to take the punches that a journeyman is exposed to. You see these fighters that have one or two fights in a blue moon, but Jake is in the ring pretty much every weekend. So it is worrying.
“But Jake is very open and honest about his fights. He knows when he’s in for a harder night’s work than usual and he’ll tell me so — I guess these are the ones I get worried about. We would only take the kids along if it’s a fight that he has said will be ‘easier’ than most — you know, one that it’s unlikely that he’s going to get his head taken off.”
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Across 100 losses, Jake Pollard has only been knocked out six times.
Richard Pelham via Getty Images
A fighting Jake is all Reanne has ever known — the early-morning runs, the bruised knuckles and daily gym sessions. It’s the rhythm of their life together. And yet, you can’t help but wonder: If she had the power to rewrite his story, to throw the towel in on his career, would she dare to?
“It’s hard to say. It would be very selfish," Reanne says. "I don’t think I would — it’s not just a job, it’s his life. When he gets beaten by stoppage and has to take four weeks off, I see the impact that has on Jake. It’s not nice to see. He copes very well with routine and structure, and this sport does that for him.”
Jake's latest suspension was lifted at the end of November. He's already set to return to the ring back inside Liverpool’s Grand Central Hall this Sunday, Dec. 7. He’ll walk to the ring for the 102nd time as a professional against an Afghanistan-born 20-year-old, Safiullah Sediqi (3-1-1, 0 KOs).
The mission remains the same as always.
“If I can get back home that evening, then that'll be the perfect outcome,” he explains. “Imagine I wake up in a hospital in Liverpool the morning after, I’d be so annoyed at myself, so that’s the motivation for me.
“The fact that I can be back home, playing football with Roman in the morning, means I’ve won again. The people that I love know that I am not going to take unnecessary risks in this career. I won’t be a hero for these promoters that want to see you get your head bashed in."
“A victory is how you frame it,” he adds, smiling.
And as he says it, there’s no arrogance in the room — just a man who has learned the difference between surviving and merely lasting. Boxing has a way of stripping you bare, of peeling back every layer until only the truth remains. Jake Pollard’s truth isn’t measured in belts or broadcast slots or the roar that greets a walkout.
Maybe that’s what makes him most dangerous in the end — not the power in his hands, but the clarity in his purpose. He fights with the knowledge that the real world waits for him just beyond the ropes — Roman’s boots by the door, pinging a ball to him across the Yorkshire moors, the life he’s already built calling him home.
He stands, stretches, and rolls his shoulders like a man easing his way into the last round of a long night. “I’m winning in my own way,” he concludes.
You get the sense he already has.
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