FOR only the second time in his professional boxing career Bolton’s Amir Khan is the fall guy.

The light-welterweight lost both his world belts – the World Boxing Association and International Boxing Federation versions – in his contentious points defeat to Lamont Peterson in Washington.

Khan and his management team have since appealed the decision that gave the verdict to the American, who literally lived on the streets of the American capital before being crowned a new DC hero. ’S’funny how there was little acclaim or help when the youngster was making a living hustling on street corners.

But back to the vanquished Khan. His appeal is based on the fact he was docked points not once but on two occasions in the title fight from which he was gazing at the far bigger picture of a stellar showdown against the likes of Floyd Mayweather.

There’s a certain legitimacy to Khan’s claims that he was wrongly penalised by the referee Joseph Cooper, himself a Washingtonian.

But he also has to look at himself for his failure to keep on track for a mega pay-day and even more so to his management team.

Khan’s performance was not his sharpest, almost as if he was looking beyond the challenge of the unfancied though dangerous Peterson.

But why in hell’s kitchen name did his management team, Golden Boy Promotions headed by former multi-title world champion winner Oscar de la Hoya, sanction a defence of Khan’s two hard-won world titles in Washington?

The capital of America had not hosted a world title fight in close on two decades because of a fear that hometown decisions had been more prevalent than not.

It beggars belief that someone would want to try to buck such a home-boy trend. It’s as dangerous as trying to hip-hop across the M62.

By going ahead with the decision to put two belts up for grabs in a city notorious for going against outsiders it reinforced the blind arrogance that sometimes afflicts the cruellest sport.

By nature, fighters, even the most shy and taciturn ones, have to possess a certain degree of arrogance. How else could you transport your frame through those ropes into one-on-one combat which could prove not only wounding but potentially fatal?

But when boxing’s back-up teams show the same almost contempt for a bizarre circumstance such as Washington’s title record, or an opponent, then the one who suffers the most is, of course, the man on his own in the ring.

It brings to mind the middle of three world title fights undertaken by York’s very own Henry Wharton.

The Minster warrior, whose only three losses were all in challenges for the world super-middleweight championship, was in London for the pre-bout press conference ahead of his showdown with then World Boxing Organisation belt-holder Chris Eubank.

Bizarrely Wharton’s manager, the esteemed and vastly experienced Mickey Duff, launched an astounding attack on Eubank.

During the lambasting of the champion, which focussed on Eubank’s previous statements that he did not really like boxing, Duff revealed how his man – Wharton – was going to swarm all over Eubank exerting the sort of pressure that the champion had never faced before.

Less than 48 hours later Eubank turned in one of the most imperious performances of his career. Defensively he was never better and Wharton was beaten again on points as he was by Nigel Benn earlier that year in 1994 and also by Robin Reid three years later.

The phrase fore-warned is to be fore-armed could not have been better applied to Eubank’s conquest of the York ring-king, who, it could be said, had been undone by the arrogance of his manager’s claims.

Since those glory days of a 12-stone division that numbered Benn, Eubank, Reid, Wharton, future world champions Steve Collins and Joe Calzaghe as well as Nicky Piper in its ranks, British boxing has suffered a demise.

Prince Naseem Hamed is no more a phenomenon, Lennox Lewis’ reign is at a dignified end, Ricky ‘the Hitman’ Hatton is now promoting, stubbed toe-man David Haye is contemplating a comeback, and Khan, last week, was sent spiralling to dubious defeat.

Hopes of British triumph now reside with another super-middleweight, Carl Froch, who tonight goes into battle against Andre Ward in Atlantic City.

Froch’s World Boxing Council crown is at stake as is Ward’s WBA belt. The winner will be crowned undisputed super-middleweight champion of the world.

Let us hope outside the ring arrogance does not permeate the ring to ruin Froch’s deserved big night.