DANGERMAN

Prospective opponents for rising heavyweight sensation Matt Skelton would be advised to pack a pillow into their kitbags. There is a strong chance they'll be entering a deep sleep. Since turning last September, the 6ft 3ins, 18st-plus tower of power from Bedford has sent each of his seven opponents into slumberland. 

Skelton has yet to feature on national TV, but whispers of the destructive havoc the menacing man-mountain has been wreaking around London gyms have caused eyebrows to be raised on the British heavyweight scene. "He'd spark either Audley Harrison or Herbie Hide tomorrow," claims co-manager Eugene Maloney. "I'd be very disappointed if I hadn't got him fighting for the British title by the middle of next season." And those chances will have increased tenfold now that Maloney and Skelton have hooked up with the ever-powerful Sports Network promotional outfit. 

Skelton's late entrance to the profession, aged 32, forced him to forego the usual apprenticeship of warmed-over sacrificial victims. Those he has beaten include world amateur silver medallist Jacklord Jacobs and one-time Russian champ Alexei Verakin. But has the home heavyweight scene really become so threadbare of talent that some 32-year-old chancer, with no amateur experience, can move to within spitting distance of the domestic top 10 after less than a dozen rounds in the ring? Well, things are not entirely as they might first appear. 

For a sizeable part of the past decade, Skelton competed at world-class on the brutal K-1 kickboxing circuit in Japan. His CV already boasts British, European and world titles in that field of combat and his team are convinced that the conditioning, durability and experience accrued in Asia should aid his passage along boxing's boulevards. "The sport took me to France, Germany, Croatia, Thailand, Melbourne. 

I'm the only British fighter to feature on the K-1 circuit in Japan under contract," said the gruff-of-voice but remarkably mild-of-manner Skelton. "It is a very well respected sport over there. The merchandising is phenomenal and every event is sold out. The smallest crowd I fought in front of was 16,000, and I once performed before 48,000 at the Tokyo Dome, where Buster Douglas knocked out Mike Tyson. 

"If ever I went out to a restaurant, I'd regularly be asked for autographs. I had almost superstar status. "It was quite brutal. The Japanese had their elite, who were there from the start, 12 or 13 years ago, and they really protect them. Europeans are brought in as fodder and really have to prove themselves. But I got offered a three-year deal. 

"Fighting just four or five times a year, you could certainly make a living out of it. At the end of the season, they had a Grand Prix, $230,000 for the winner. I lost on a split decision in the semi-final." Skelton's conversion to conventional boxing occurred when, in a pursuit of meaningful heavyweight sparring, he descended on Kevin Sanders's gym in Peterborough, where he encountered journeyman pro Derek McCafferty. "Initially, because Derek knew how to set his feet better, he'd catch me with punches on the inside but I became fascinated. I even started analysing it while driving home," he recalled. 

"Soon I was getting the better of Derek, so he suggested I got to Blackpool to spar Mathew Ellis, who was in the top 10 at the time. "By the second week, I was dominating him to such an extent that I had to pull my punches. As I had little to offer technically, other than my fitness, I decided I had to give it a go." But did he honestly believe, aged 32, he could replicate the success he'd enjoyed in the martial world? "When you meet a girl, do you think you'll be with her for 10 years? 

You just take it as it comes and that's pretty much my philosophy regarding my boxing career. One wrong move and I'm back where I started. "But I'm trying to be true to myself. I don't want to sell people an image. "My management have got a realistic view. They don't feed me rubbish. When I first met Eugene, we studied the British top 10 rankings and knew we could be at that level pretty soon. I should certainly be looking at British titles." An almost obsessive analyst of unarmed combat, Skelton is infatuated with styles and techniques, which ensured that his transition across the arts was swift. "The guards are totally different and still my foot movement is wrong for boxing but right for K1. 

Boxers tend to set their legs heavier and more from the waist. It's working on the inside that's the biggest difference," assessed Skelton, who lives with partner Rachel and 14-year-old daughter Chontay. "Still, I feel I adapted quite easily. The concept of scoring without being hit is the same and my background certainly makes me more mobile around the ring than most other heavyweights." While Skelton has demonstrated the speed, mobility and composure to progress, it is that frightening power that distinguishes him apart from other rising starlets in the division. 

His hefty right hand serves as his preferred sleeping pill. Debut opponent Gifford Shillingford had won three out of four, but was cold cocked for well over five minutes by a solitary right at Elephant and Castle last September. Standing before him in his second start Ñ albeit rather fleetingly Ñ was Doncaster dangerman Alvin "Slick" Miller, the enigma who'd crushed the pretensions of Frank Maloney's prospects Matt Legg and Danny Percival in the recent past. A savage volley of piledrivers ended that little skirmish in 28 seconds, including the count. 

All 20 stones of Barnsley behemoth Neil Kirkwood entered with six wins from 13 at the York Hall in December, only to crumble in 89 seconds and pave the way for genuine tests against Jacobs and Verakin. "It really is all about timing. I do very little work with weights," said Skelton. "In my former career, I stopped 36 of my 52 victims but usually ground them down with steady pressure. In fact, I got quite frustrated by my inability to knock guys sparko because I had a real urge to do it. 

I just started trying this little overhand right in training and eventually perfected it. "Having been brought up around a Christian background, I'd never wish to harm anyone. Before every fight, I pray that no one comes out damaged, rather than pray for a win. When reviewing my fights, I always stop the tape once the deed is done. I don't revel in watching a guy laid out on the floor and certainly wouldn't want them hospitalised on a stretcher. "But I do have a phobia about going the distance, then standing mid-ring with the ref holding both our hands, not knowing which he's going to put up. 

I'd be really gutted if I thought I'd won and it went the other way. I do train for knockouts. They give me a buzz." It is his stoppage over the much-avoided Jacobs which provides evidence that Skelton is more than just a puncher. Jabbing with calm authority, he persuaded Jacobs to quit in four. "Several critics said I was being a bit brave taking that fight so early in my career," recapped Skelton. "But I've been there as well. With K1, you can't help but 'rough it'. 

There are plenty of rabbit punches, illegal elbows and knees coming up to your groin. "He got his weight down and trained for me and, though I went headhunting and dragged my game down to his level, I got the end result I wanted." Though undefeated heavyweight hitters are, without question, the most lucrative commodity in the sport, co-manager Eugene Maloney has had a major headache trying to deliver meaningful matches. The ex-scaffolder's violent ascent has left the queue of top-10 fighters willing to take him on pretty much invisible. 

Apparently, Michael Holden and Mark Potter have already reneged on appointments. "Believe me, we've offered top dollar to get Matt fights but absolutely no one in Britain will oblige us. At present, I'm paying fortunes to bring over imports just so he won't go stale," grumbles Maloney. "The kid's 7Ð0, has no amateur experience. And yet, with the exceptions of Lennox Lewis and Danny Williams, we're prepared to box any British heavyweight right now. "And, let's be honest, even at world level there's very little about under the age 35. 

Look what happen to [Wlad] Klitschko. "If everything goes to our plan, Matt'll be fighting for a major world title two-and-a-half years from now." While Skelton's wrecking-ball fists have limited him to four rounds in any one fight, he appears consumed by every aspect of the game and is as eager to learn as earn. Sanders and trainer Roger Maltby implant the technical subtleties, while ex-school pal Andy Goodwin, a one-time UFC fighter, serves as conditioner. "My goal is cardio fitness, a high output and quick recovery rate," said Skelton. "Once you've got that right, there's really no substitute for sparring. 

Lately, I've been working with Danny Williams and Michael Sprott. Boxers are proud people but both pay me big compliments. Danny admitted he had to turn a bit 'heavy' because I was frustrating him. I'd stand toe to toe with him and never hung on after throwing a flurry. "To me, being a great fighter is about being able to adapt to each opponent and being sufficiently unpredictable to prevent rivals devising a plan that can beat you. "I'm really glad that, just as people were stereotyping me as a big right-hand puncher, I stopped Verakin with a left uppercut." Given his obvious aptitude for the sport, surely it must rile that he didn't chance upon this infinitely more lucrative form of combat a decade ago? 

"Nah, you can't have regrets. Age is only an issue if you party hard and abuse your body and I've never been a drinker. My idea of socialising is a little coffee and game of bar football at a cafe close to me," he insisted. "Listen, I've not been in the game a year yet already, but because I've been given the right fights, I'm on the fringe of the British top 10. "Years back, top heavyweights were 141/2 stone and 28 [years old]. Today, through increased knowledge of nutrition and training techniques, they're 17 stone-plus and 38. "In K1, your legs can get kicked to bits. 

Don't get me wrong, I had some proper rows. But, because of my [mobile] style, I didn't take many big bangs." An awareness of Skelton's top-flight martial background helps to counter many of the usual reservations regarding heart, stamina and durability that hang over your usual six-fight near novice. "I've never been over from a punch or kick to the chin, just leg kicks, which is simply a case of balance and timing," insisted Skelton. 

"Your conditioning had to be good because, in tournament fighting, you might be doing three three-rounders a day. Many times the winner was prevented from continuing [in the tournament] due to the knocks and bruises they'd taken. It can get brutal. "In boxing, you may get a swelling or a bloody nose but, in K1, you've got so many weapons and such a large target area it puts stress on your whole body. 

"Thai also taught me crucial lessons about pacing a fight. One of my losses was to this Dutch guy, Peter Aerts, a two-time Grand Prix champion no one else wanted to fight. "After winning the first three rounds hands down, I allowed him to nick it over the last three because I burned out. There was nothing wrong with my fitness, I just paced it wrong. It's all about maintaining a high work rate." According to Eugene Maloney, next season will begin with elevation to 10-round competition and conclude with the acquisition of a major traditional title belt. 

Skelton, under no illusions, views the trials that await with relish. "I can't understand any fighter who steps into that ring just to collect a wage," he concluded. "The way I see it, every time you enter the ring, you're putting yourself in a life-threatening situation. Just as if someone attacked you in the street, you fight for your life. "A day will come quite soon when I meet someone who's skill and fitness levels will match mine, the geezer's up for a proper row and it's down to this [points to heart]. And I look forward to that. I want to be there. That's what I train for. That's what makes me buzz."