Most if not all East Midlands boxing shows from grassroots gyms with squeaky ropes to championship events with proper ring lights and posh coffee there’s a constant presence around the ring. They don’t throw punches, but they keep the sport running with military precision, level-headed calm, and a low tolerance for faff.

We are, of course, talking about the heroes in bowties & blazers: the UK Armed Forces (UKAF) boxing officials.

Let’s be real: without these absolute units of order and resilience, most shows would descend into chaos. we would be so short of officials  the bell would be rung by someone’s auntie holding a saucepan lid. But not on their watch.

There’s something quietly majestic about watching a UKAF official in action. Cool under pressure. Haircuts on point often no hair at all. Pens and stopwatches always present and accounted for. They stride across the floor like they’re about to deploy a tactical operation and in a way, they are. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen one of them separate an overzealous coach from the ring apron with just a look.

And they are nice, absurdly nice, in that polite, efficient, no-nonsense way that says: “I’ve been shouted at by better men than you, mate.”

They don’t panic. They don’t flinch. They’ve seen more chaos in a breakfast briefing than most of us see in a season of club shows.

The Legendary Black Book of Adam M.P Now, I simply must talk about Adam.

Adam — whose full title should really be: Lieutenant General of Bout Records and Future Revenge Plans, is always writing something down. No one knows exactly what. The bout number? The time of stoppage? The colour of your socks? The exact moment you forgot to pass your score slip ?

All we know is: he’s watching. He’s writing. And the black book… the black book remembers.

If its a notebook or ledger or even grudge journal. We may never know. But we all must agree on one thing: Adam sees everything.

You think you got away with forgetting to thank the officials at the end of the show? Check page 47. You’re in ink now. Forget your sins, he won’t. That time you submitted the running order late? Page 12. The dodgy wobbly table you thought no one cared about? Page 44. The time you said “Is that even a real rule?” within earshot? Underlined. Twice.

I suspect that when judgement day comes — for boxing, or the planet — Adam will quietly flip to a bookmarked section and nod solemnly. “I thought so,” he’ll mutter.

All banter aside, the contribution you make to the East Midlands region cannot be overstated. You lend your time, your experience, and your calm authority to shows up and down the calendar — often travelling long distances, juggling military duties, and somehow still managing to be the most punctual people in any building.

Your presence ensures that the sport runs safely, fairly, and with dignity — all the things we want young boxers to carry with them, inside and outside the ring.

From every coach, every club, every nervous first-timer, and every grateful event organiser:

To the UKAF officials, the RAF specially. 
the scorecard tacticians,
the order-restorers,
the calm around the ring
the reason the bout sheets are legible,
the cause of many coaches’ sudden urge to behave

We salute you. We fear you slightly. But mostly, we thank you.

(And Adam — if you’re reading this… please don’t write it down.)