JOHN POLLARD was at the Albert Hall on Saturday when disaster unfolded Mature men aren't expected to be tearful, particularly on such macho occasions as a night of boxing, writes JOHN POLLARD.

But there were plenty of watery eyes as 23-year-old Spencer Oliver lay unconscious on the canvas for 15 minutes after being poleaxed by a tremendous blow to the head in the tenth round of his title defence on Saturday.

Some of the battle-hardened press scribes, who had witnessed a few ring tragedies, could only stare blankly into space as he was carried past us on his way to hospital for brain surgery, fully aware that, after recovering briefly, the champion had lapsed into a coma.

The eerie hush which had descended over the arena was only broken by shouts of encouragement from onlookers as he was carried to the ambulance.

Spencer had become a local sporting hero with a large army of supporters. Modest and unassuming, he enjoyed immense popularity in the world of boxing.

Two bouts remained, but nobody had any heart for further fisticuffs after such a tragedy and they were abandoned.

I've known the Oliver family, including Spencer's dad Jimmy and uncle John -- both former boxers with Finchley ABC -- for more than 30 years. Fine folk, who love their sport and were proud of Spencer's splendid achievements.

I have to confess I was sobbing uncontrollably as I made my way down to Kensington High Street Tube station on my way home.

Spencer, who struck fear into the hearts of his opponents, was tagged The Omen. The evening had begun with his spectacular arrival as a 100-strong choir sung The Omen theme.

Such scenes won't be witnessed again as his career is over. Happily, his condition has improved rapidly and he is expected to make a complete recovery.

We can rejoice, but I'm still trembling as I write of that terrible night at the Royal Albert Hall that will remain etched in my memory.

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