The small talk of a taxi ride is the beating heart of British chit-chat – a soundtrack to thousands of journeys across London and beyond.
On Sunday, a passenger might glance at the driver in the rear view mirror and ask the usual: “Good weekend, mate? Get up to much?”
For 37-year-old Bilal Fawaz, the answer could be a little different than the usual traffic complaints or remarks about the drizzle.
“I became a British champion. And then I drove this Uber,” he plans to say, using the same casual tone he might use to discuss a bottleneck on the North Circular.
But for that conversation to happen, Fawaz must first handle business this Saturday in Nottingham, where he challenges Ishmael Davis for the prestigious British light-middleweight title.
In boxing, the story of the “working-class hero” – the athlete who still clocks in for a nine-to-five – is a great marketing hook. But for Fawaz, there is no romanticism in the grind.
“I’m an Uber driver. I’m a personal trainer. I’m a fitness instructor. And I’m a professional boxer. That’s four jobs,” he tells Sport in fight week.
“I was doing Uber the day I came here. I trained clients before I left London. I pay for the car on a subscription every week and if I don’t work, money goes out and nothing comes in.
“So on Sunday after the fight, when the kids are asleep, I’ll jump in the car, make £70 or £80, park it, sleep, drop them to nursery and train clients again.”
Fawaz is articulate and thoughtful, with a hint of theatrical flair that reflects his time at acting school.
But beneath that poise lie challenges far heavier than night shifts or 10-round fights. His fight began long before Nottingham – a childhood marked by abuse, years in the care system and a life spent proving he belongs.
Sport first told Fawaz’s story in 2018, revisited it in 2022, and yet he remains in limbo as an English champion still without a passport.
