Perhaps being gifted the best name in boxing was an omen: Delicious Orie is very good with his words. And when sporting 12oz gloves, this well-spoken 27-year-old is also very good with his hands, which took him all the way to the 2024 Olympics as a member of Team GB.
Although Orie’s efforts in Paris ended in early heartbreak, there is trust in his talent; Orie himself has faith, naturally, and so does Frank Warren. With that, Queensberry Promotions has its newest heavyweight in a strong, strong stable. Warren works closely with heavyweight world champion Daniel Dubois, Derek Chisora, Fabio Wardley, Lawrence Okolie, Joe Joyce, Moses Itauma, among other prospects, and, of course, the recently retired Tyson Fury. The options are tantalising for British heavyweights right now, with Warren also holding connections with title contenders Joseph Parker and Zhilei Zhang.
The announcement on Tuesday, the, that Orie is turning professional, makes one wonder if the most intriguing part of his career is yet to come. If that turns out to be true, it will still take something special to eclipse the intrigue of his personal life – a journey that Orie, as hinted above, conveys with a rare articulation.
That journey started in Russia, his mother’s home country, where racism towards Orie and his Nigerian father prompted a move to Britain, when the future boxer was just seven.
“They say your life is shaped by what you experience from zero to seven years old,” Orie tells The Independent, on a call with other reporters. “I was in Russia then, I was a kid who was slightly different from everybody else, who felt not part of their… society, let’s say. Mum and dad had big financial struggles, and it was difficult watching my dad go through the stuff he went through.
“I think, when I moved to the UK, I had this heightened sense of responsibility. From seven years old, it was like: ‘Right, it’s up to me now. My mum and dad have given me the opportunity to work hard in the UK.’ I couldn’t speak a word of English, but I remember being in year 4 [at school], and I was like: ‘My job is to nail English, so I can nail the SATs [exams] and I can go and do my GCSEs. Nail that, do my A Levels, then I can get into university.’ From the age of seven, I knew I was going to university.
“I still feel like I’m that seven-year-old; it was 20 years ago, but I’ve still got that burning desire. There’s a flame within me to make sure I look after the people around me. It happened to be through boxing.
“Thinking about it now… All my life, growing up, I’ve always done the hard stuff. ‘Oh no, I can’t get into university because student finances aren’t going to support me. Let’s go and work part-time everywhere – McDonald’s, Sports Direct, warehouse, bouncer – three or four jobs, pay that £13,000 a year for university, box at the same time.’ It was consistently really hard, over and over and over.”
Within this, there is an element of what is sometimes called ‘voluntary adversity’. Yet as determined as Orie is, he is equally sensible. It was that trait which led him to stop working in security, in fact.
“I was 18 when I became a bouncer in Birmingham,” he recalls. “I realised you could get paid £10 an hour. ‘Oh, my god.’ That was like gold to me. I’d never been to a pub or club in my life before working in one. Even confiscating drugs, I’d never seen anything like it before. I stopped at 22, after doing security in shops as a store detective – when you’re dressed in normal clothes, stopping people from shoplifting. I heard that a homeless guy pulled out a needle while trying to run away with some chocolate or whatever. For me, it was like: ‘This is the risk I’m putting myself into.’ As I got older, I started to understand risk and reward. That [moment] really got to me.”
Still, Orie’s tendency is to pick the difficult option. That led him to choose boxing – “the most real, brutal, primal thing you can do” – and influenced his decision to turn pro this year, after turning down the chance to join WWE.
“Picking that WWE route certainly would’ve been easier,” Orie tells The Independent. “I know WWE is hard, being a wrestler is very difficult. But nothing compares to boxing, in my opinion. I think maybe it was a subconscious thing to naturally choose something much harder – and something that would be more satisfying.
“I feel like, if I went out there and did [WWE] as my base, deep down I’d fall into some sort of depression. It’d be this thing of: ‘You’ve sold yourself way too early. You’re still more than capable; you’re 27 years old, you’re healthy, you’re strong, you’ve still got years of peaking.’ I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, to be honest with you.”
What he hopes to be able to live with, one day, is his Olympic endeavour, which ended in the round of 16 despite the highest hopes.
“Hopefully, when I’m 50 or 60, I’ll look back and think: ‘That experience has done me good,’” he says. “But at the moment, I’m still feeling it. I don’t know if I’ll ever not feel it, to be honest. But I guess that’s just part of life, sometimes you don’t get what you want. That’s what I had to go through.”
It still led Orie to where he is today: on the verge of his professional debut, after choosing the difficult option – yet again.
