THE scar on his right bicep is an effective full stop to a 30-year boxing career.

Torn in his only excursion into the bare-knuckle world and then ruptured a month later in a car crash, it is a powerful deterrent should Bobby Vanzie ever be tempted.

The gloves have finally been hung up. At 43, he has no interest in stepping into the ring in a competitive environment again.

Bradford’s long-time British and Commonwealth lightweight champion now wants to focus on helping youngsters from some of the city’s more deprived corners. Lads he can identify with from experience.

He said: “I grew up when the National Front was big and came from an area that was predominantly white. You had to fight to just not be bullied.

“I decided at ten to take up boxing to protect myself. The trainer thought I was pretty good and from then up to 17, I was a gym rat.

“My friends from the same area got into the bad stuff – I’ll never forget seeing one of them on Crimewatch.

“Had I not fallen into boxing, it could have been me because these were the guys I was knocking about with and went to school with.

“But while they were doing burglaries and things like that, I’d go to the gym.

“I keep my ear pretty close to the ground and drugs is a massive deterrent to doing the right thing. It’s easy money.

“But if I can get a social club or a gym in an area like Ravenscliffe or Holme Wood, places where crime is a problem, then I’d like to think I can help some of these kids find a purpose.”

Vanzie’s back catalogue ensures respect. Bradford-born and proud, he enjoyed a successful ten-year amateur career which included two junior ABAs and a National Boys Club title.

As a pro, he reigned the domestic scene in his division for five years.

But he does not look back with fondness. Vanzie feels he would have achieved more but was ground down by the sport’s politics.

He finds the current state of the sport depressing – his plan to train troubled youngsters is not out of gratitude.

Vanzie said: “It’s not about giving something back to boxing. It hasn’t been a friend to me.

“I realised quite early it’s not about how gifted you are as a fighter. It’s how much money your promoter’s got and how many tickets you can sell.

“I had to earn my position by fighting the guys who were ranked above me. I wasn’t going to be handed anything, no way.

“I was calling out the top guys in my first year, Billy Schwer, Michael Ayers, Colin Dunne, but none would fight me. That was the most frustrating thing.

“They didn’t want to take the risk. Junior Witter had the same with (Ricky) Hatton.

“I retired half because of my religion (as a Jehovah’s Witness) – and half as I was never going to be able to say I was better than these top guys because I wouldn’t get the chance to prove it in the ring.”

Vanzie does not want to sound like a bitter old pro but sees boxing’s name being tainted by the swing towards “reality TV”-style contests. Showbiz is trampling over tradition.

“It’s not the same, especially recently, with these spurious judges’ scorecards and farces like Floyd Mayweather fighting Conor McGregor,” he said.

“The rules stipulate you’re not allowed to go straight into a pro title fight without any experience.

“This Rio Ferdinand thing is another example. I know he’s a nice guy but boxing’s not a game to be taken lightly.

“They are taking the shine away from those who have done it properly. It makes a mockery of the sport.

“You can equate it to X Factor. You have the bands who start off in little pubs and work their way up, then these guys come straight in and are handed it the easy way.”

Vanzie dabbled with bare knuckle boxing for one final challenge. He wanted a crack at their top dog, Jimmy Sweeney.

But he found the same bars that saw a European title fight called off three times and two dubious British losses to Graham Earl were still prevalent.

There was no hint of getting close to Sweeney. Instead he was pitched against Peter Radford, the tallest boxer on their books at 6f 6in.

Vanzie, “5ft 7in with heels on”, won in the third but the damage was done extending his arm to cover the extra reach of his opponent.

His promoter then made it clear that the Sweeney fight would not materialise. So Vanzie took the only option for his health and sanity and agreed to cancel his contract.

“I’m done with the fight game and my mum is just ecstatic,” he smiled.

“When I told her I was doing the bare knuckle, she wouldn’t speak to me.

“She hated it when I went into amateur boxing, hated it when I turned pro – but that’s how mothers are. It’s obviously a dangerous sport.

“Now I want to use what I have learned but in the right way. Bradford is what it is but it can change if people are willing to do that.”