Ben Whittaker: I'm Just Like You
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PHOTOGRAPHY: FILMAWI / STYLING: CARA HAYWARD / WORDS BY JORDAN WISE
When Ben Whittaker first stepped into a boxing gym, he hated it. It smelled weird, people were getting punched in the face, and nothing about it made sense. He didn’t want to be there. But he stayed. He stayed long enough to get good. Then he got better. Then he became one of the most exciting British boxing talents of a generation.
“I was bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble,” he says, thinking back. “My dad brought me in. Thought it’d give me structure. And it did. The ring became my classroom. That’s where I started to focus.”
Boxing wasn’t the plan. He wanted to be a footballer, but by 15, he knew it wasn’t going to happen. What happened instead was an Olympic medal. The only one from his area. And that, he says, changed everything. Not just for him, but for the kids who see themselves in him now.
“I’m just like them. I go to the shop like them. I go to sleep like them. I’m an ordinary person like them.”
Whittaker’s story isn’t about playing it safe. His style in the ring is sharp, unorthodox, playful. He spins, taps heads, slips punches with a grin. Some people love it. Some don’t get it. He doesn’t mind either way. Because it’s real. It’s him.
“I don’t really know what I’m going to do next. That’s how I box. That’s how I live. But it works.”
He calls himself an open book. The kind of athlete who will ask a kid in the gym why they moved a certain way, then go and try it himself. “The moment you think you’re the finished article, you stop learning. I’m always watching, always refining. That’s how you evolve.”
Whittaker isn’t here to blend in. He’s here to take up space. Whether it’s with his ringwalks, his post-fight celebrations, his love for anime, or his unapologetic sense of style. Boxing gave him the platform and now he’s building the rest.
“People only see you in the ring. But I’ve always wanted to show different sides. Fashion. Music. Anime. It’s all me. And I think that’s needed in sport. You have to express yourself.”
“I’ve got the looks. The charisma. The skill. But what really sets me apart is the work ethic.”
His schedule proves it. Three sessions a day. Sparring, strength and conditioning, technical work. Then back home to watch EastEnders with his mum. That’s the routine. That balance. That anchor.
He talks a lot about family. His dad, who used to drive him up and down the country, scraping together enough for gloves and boots. His mum, who can’t bear to watch his fights but always turns up for the ringwalk. His brother. His people. “When they don’t have to worry anymore, that’s when I’ve really succeeded.”
There’s a softness under all the bravado. A real sense of purpose. You can feel it when he talks about his area. About going back and seeing kids who still can’t believe he lives nearby. “It doesn’t matter where you come from. Doesn’t mean what you can do. I want to inspire that next generation. I want to bring a world title back and hopefully, a couple more world champions will come with it.”
For all the flash, Whittaker is serious about his craft. He’s obsessed with the basics. “A good guard and a good jab can win world titles. Don’t get caught in the glitz. Don’t spin on one leg and think that’s boxing. The fundamentals take you around the world.”
“I love all the flair. But the basics win.”
Still, the flair’s not going anywhere. He wants to one day perform at Wireless. “Let me pick three songs, walk out, light it up. That’d be a tick-box moment.” And his dream invention? Cocoa butter. “You get a bit ashy if you don’t start applying that. So yeah, cocoa butter.”
There’s laughter, but there’s depth too. Especially when he talks about mental strength. He says 80 percent of boxing is mental. That if you believe you’ll win, most times, you will. But that takes work too. Honest people. No ego-massaging. Just real feedback and self-awareness. “Sometimes I have a bad session and my team will tell me straight. That’s what you need.”
“If you’ve seen my dad, you know I’ll be moving up in weight. He has to walk through the door sideways.”
The humour is quick, but so is the vision. He doesn’t just want to be a world champion. He wants to be undisputed. Unified. Dominant across weight classes. But beyond that, he wants to live fully. Eat well. Look good. Spend silly money. Make music. Leave a mark.
“I just believe things happen when you breathe it, live it, manifest it. I dream about success. But not just dream. I focus on it. I speak it into existence. That’s how all of this has happened.”
He’s not trying to fit a mould. He’s breaking it and remaking it on his own terms.
Because Ben Whittaker isn’t here to do what’s been done. He’s here to do what no one saw coming. And to make sure he looks good doing it.
