The evening’s main event wasn’t supposed to be this good. Sure, both men were battling for a belt they’d treat as their own world title, but York Hall shook unexpectedly. The balcony boomed as it gazed down upon a former Premier League footballer taking it to one of boxing’s hard luck stories; women jumped up from the rigid, wooden bench seating and men grasped the balcony, almost throwing themselves overboard.
The punches slowed as the rounds progressed, but after weathering an early storm, Peterborough’s Cello Renda (29-13-2, 13 KOs) outlasted his game, exhausted opponent. The crowd erupted, hands were thrown up frantically and Renda celebrated emphatically before being silenced by his trainer, Birmingham’s Jon Pegg. It was by general consensus, a rousing small hall classic between two unlikely foes.
Former Southern Area Cruiserweight champion Wadi Camacho held back the hysterical daughter of the fallen challenger, Leon McKenzie, as he was administered oxygen. Renda recalled the victory when speaking to Boxing Social: “My corner were saying to me, ‘I think he’s really hurt. Don’t celebrate too much. I understand that you’re excited and you’ve won but I think he’s really hurt here, Cello.’ They were telling me that he was lying with his mouth open and I thought, ‘Fucking hell. Bloody hell, really? This is shit.’
“It was a big left hand I hit him with. I [saw] him stumble back like a drunken stumble, I knew he was gone, his legs had gone. When I smell blood, I go for it – I’ve done that my whole career. When I’ve got someone hurt, I’ll finish it. I went in there and just put absolutely everything into every single punch because I could see him go. I wasn’t going to win on points, I’ve been in the game too long. I knew I wasn’t going to get it from the judges. And then, in round number nine, I [saw] him get off the stool, he just didn’t look the same.
“I’ve had a long career and I’ve been through some hard fights,” reflected Renda. “That’s what brought me to that fight there. What I’ve been through, it was all just setting me up for that historic fight, ‘Fight of the Year’. I think the very first punch he hit me with actually was a jab, which stumbled me, then in the second or third round he hit me with a barrage of shots and Lee Cook was the referee. I said to him after, ‘Lee, upmost respect for you allowing that fight to carry on.’ He said, ‘Cello, I know what type of fighter you are. I know what you’re about.’ I think a different ref could have stopped it.”
Lee Cook was right. Cello has always been about heart. The youngest of the six Renda siblings, he explained his traditional Catholic roots, proudly discussing his Italian heritage and naively following his father briefly into the building trade. But it was during his teenage years that Renda would struggle with standard conformity, often receiving suspensions from school and ultimately leaving without any meaningful qualifications. He turned to street fighting, searching for acceptance from the wrong crowd after failing to excel academically.
“More than anything, I just wanted to be something, to be someone and stand my ground,” he said. “Being the youngest, maybe I felt a bit left out, I don’t know? I wanted to be looked up to. But that was the wrong way of going about it. I took it on the road, into my day-to-day life. I remember having a fight in town when I was 18 and that really changed my life. I got arrested and nearly went to prison. I went to court and it really was a massive wake-up call for me.
“Spending a night in the cells for me was like, ‘Wow, this is getting serious now.’ When you’re at school, you get into a fight, you get detention, you get told off, maybe you get suspended, but that’s it; you’re alright. I knocked out a couple of rugby players in town and ended up with a criminal record and doing 180 hours of community service. I went to America a few years ago and I had to go and get a visa. It’s about making sure young people don’t mess up too much for later on in their life.”
Narrowly escaping a jail sentence was enough to shock Cello ‘Dangerous’ Renda into taking boxing seriously. Testing his punching power on the streets of Peterborough didn’t guarantee success against men who’d studied the sport, but it was the only thing that had left him feeling accomplished. Without fighting as an amateur, he wandered into his local gym and embarked on an unthinkable career that would span 14 often-eventful years.
His debut came in 2004, fighting in a hotel in Hull. His first-ever licensed opponent? Mark Ellwood, a 7-0 light-heavyweight, boasting three years of professional boxing experience. Renda knocked him out in the second round and Ellwood would never grace the ring again. Less than two months later, the confident Renda would face unheralded debutant, Joey Vegas (LTKO3 in London, September 2004).
From Kampala in Uganda, Vegas would later tackle Nathan Cleverly, Edison Miranda, Mairis Breidis and Dmitry Bivol. Peterborough’s young prospect suffered the same fate he had inflicted on Hull’s Ellwood.
“Looking back now, when you get a little bit older, you understand the game. But when someone says to me, ‘Cello, we’ve got you a fight.’ I’m never, ever going to say no. I’ll fight him. I didn’t really know who he was or what he was about. Apparently he boxed in the Commonwealth Games and won medals and boxed for Uganda. [Had about] 100 fights for Uganda. I shouldn’t have been in the ring with him at all. I think I had four minutes worth of experience, what the hell was I doing in there?
“He fought some good kids, Joey Vegas. I think he was ranked in the top 10 in the world as a professional at one stage. You look through my record, my manager didn’t do a good job, that’s why I fell out with him. All he saw was pound coins with me, because I could fight and I didn’t turn a fight down. And I could punch so it could go either way. I always had a chance. It was about financial gain for managers and promoters.”
It wasn’t long until Renda bounced back, facing his third unbeaten opponent in Glasgow’s Marriott Hotel. A first-round stoppage of home fighter Scott Forsyth closed out Cello’s first calendar year as a professional, earning enough money to keep the lights on. It was also the last time Forsyth boxed, ending his brief career at 1-1.
Throughout his career, it was constantly short notice fights or travelling in the away corner. A draw with Michael Banbula followed his second professional defeat, facing sterling amateur Ricardo Samms in the Doncaster Dome. The decision for Samms was contentious, according to Renda, with a mix-up in the announcement of the winner.
But still he battled on. Four years after making his debut, Renda had traded wins with losses and had ended up at the door of Liverpool’s Paul Smith, fighting for his first professional belt. The pair would contest the vacant English middleweight title at London’s 02 Arena on the undercard of David Haye’s demolition of Enzo Maccarinelli. It was by far the biggest occasion Cello had experienced though he would sadly come up short.
“I thought I was making progress in my career,” he admitted. “But again, looking back now, you’re just seen as the opponent. The reason why I got offered that fight was because they thought they were going to beat me. I think Paul Smith’s original opponent pulled out, if I remember rightly, and I got offered that fight on a month’s notice. I took the fight straight away, it was great exposure for me. I was getting paid pretty well, according to what my manager was telling me.
“I think it was one of the best performances I’ve ever had in any of my fights and I was winning the fight going into the second half. I think the judges had me winning by two rounds and if you’re an away opponent and you’re up by two rounds, you can probably say by at least three rounds.
“I knew Smith was struggling with the weight. I knew in the fight, he was on his last legs. And then, in the sixth round, I went out there and took it to him. I had him on the ropes but then he hit with a shot, it stumbled me back a bit on to the ropes, I had my hands up, covering up, defending myself. But he was really loading up on me. Looking back now, I know why the ref’s stopped it.”
Eight months and one victory (beating Michael Monaghan on the judges’ scorecards) later, it was time for Renda to thrust himself into domestic boxing’s spotlight, as he was offered a slot on Sky Sports’Prizefighter tournament in the winter of 2008. It was the fourth edition of the successful, knockout-style tournament following the initial success of its first two heavyweight sessions and Renda would reach its final. He mixed heavy hands with heart and was only beaten by future world title challenger Martin Murray on a split decision.
Seven years later, Renda would again reach the final stage of the same tournament, this time suffering a stoppage defeat against Tom Doran. Despite losing, he became synonymous with the format, providing explosive all-action bouts and winning new fans up and down the country. Between both tournament entries, he fought the equally exciting Paul Samuels in a pair of good, domestic scraps. You’ll remember their infamous double knockdown, I’m sure.
Renda then contested the English middleweight title once again, losing to Danny Butler in 2013. It seemed that championships would forever elude the Peterborough man. After winning various eliminators for the British title, he never got his chance to capture the beautiful Lord Lonsdale belt, something that continues to puzzle him, even now.
“I really don’t know why. Maybe because, I was in that ‘no-one needs you’ group, do you know what I’m trying to say? Fighting me, there was no reward behind it. I’m a dangerous opponent for anybody. I was in the position to fight for the British Title. I won my British Title eliminator, it was like, right, where is my British Title shot? What the hell do you do? You can’t do anything about it.
“They probably end up fighting somebody who isn’t a puncher. Who would you rather fight, someone who’s got a good record or someone who’s got a fantastic record but they can’t punch for shit? My strengths were probably my weaknesses at the same time. My power: I do genuinely believe that I had world-class power. I know it’s a big, bold statement to say, but I genuinely do believe it. I was just knocking kids out for fun.”
Renda continued, remembering fondly the impact the Prizefighter tournament had on his career: “People started to take notice of me. Those [Prizefighters] were big, big exposure for me and my career. They two fights with Paul Samuels ended up being massive fights and there was big, big drama in both of them. I loved it, honestly. That’s something I miss, that buzz; that attention from people. It’s something that I will never be able to get that again in anyway, except through fighting.
“When you’re knocking people out live on Sky Sports, it was an absolutely brilliant feeling. It’s the reason why I turned pro, to get that buzz that I used to get fighting people on the streets and knocking them out. Getting that now on TV where millions of people can see you and respect you for it. I was thinking, ‘Hang on a minute, I was doing that on the street and getting into trouble, now I’m doing it on bleeding TV and I’m getting respect. How’s that work out?’ That’s what I’ve always wanted – respect.”
In stopping Leon McKenzie in September 2017, Renda finally triumphed. That evening, under the sweltering lights inside Bethnal Green’s York Hall – and taking centre stage after one of his previous victims, Liam Conroy, had secured the English light-heavyweight title – it was all or nothing for “Dangerous”. The Southern Area super-middleweight strap had escaped him the previous year [L10 vs Alan Higgins in December 2016], but in his penultimate professional contest, Renda went out swinging from the hip.
Those tough fights that had spanned the best part of 15 years led him to East London, once again, in the away corner on short notice. It was finally his night, leaving the ring holding his new title above his head. McKenzie was safe after gaining respite on the canvas and Renda was free to enjoy the moment he’d envisaged plenty of times before. He was the winner; the champion, and he’d eventually been given what he considered a fair shake. He wouldn’t secure a defence, or even a fight after beating McKenzie, for an entire year. Back to the ‘no-one needs you’ club.
After fighting for the last time back in Doncaster Dome, Cello made the decision to retire from professional boxing, aged 33: “I just didn’t want to continue. Why should I? I have another year out, waiting for that phone to ring. I got bored of the game. I just fell out of love of with it. I don’t think I got what I deserved out of the game. The only reason I lost to Crowcroft was because my heart and my head wasn’t in it. I didn’t want to be boxing on a little small hall show against a lad I knew I could beat – and just to get another English Title eliminator. How many of them do you want me to fight?
“I’ve had fights where I’ve come home; I’m pissing blood, I can’t move, my ribs are broken, I can’t hold my knife and fork because my hands are hurting, I can’t eat because my jaw’s hurting. Sometimes I’ve had hard spars; I’m going home with swollen knuckles, bloody cheekbones and there’s only so much that you can keep on taking. For the sake of what? For pennies. If I was earning mega-money, of course, I’d still be fighting to this day. It’s just demoralising. Honestly, it does affect you.
“For the sake of what?” Renda asked. Presumably, ‘respect’ only went so far.
Would he consider fighting again? “If I got offered a British title shot or an English title shot, I wouldn’t even have to think about it. My missus might not be happy about it, but I would jump at the chance [laughs].”
Cello ended full of praise for his wife, Nicola, mother to his son and currently expecting the couple’s second child. She’d been there through thick and thin, organising their household, taking care of him between camps. It was only now that he could fully dedicate himself to his young family, without suffering boxing’s disappointment on a quarterly cycle.
He is now working with charity group, Boxing Futures, helping socially disadvantaged young adults achieve their potential in Peterborough. The sport had given him direction and now he helps steady the lives of those who find themselves in similar situations. Renda is also training young amateurs, teaching them tricks of the trade and educating, with the benefit of hindsight.
Boxing has changed his life completely, teaching him that there’s always a way to win. He’d been involved in some wars, launching and shipping heavy punches on all manner of stages, but he has survived. His record looks sketchy when scoffed at by the untrained eye, with plenty of losses stacked up against respectable victories. But Cello was a proper fighter – that’s how he wants to be remembered.