For the first time since he outclassed Steve Robinson five years ago, Naseem Hamed does not have a world title to his name. A simple letter to the World Boxing Organisation headquarters in Puerto Rico has accomplished what 15 subsequent challengers have failed to achieve, namely relieving Hamed of the WBO featherweight belt.

And those who witnessed Hamed in that Cardiff ring, when even the most one-eyed among Robinson's 15,000 supporters were forced to acclaim a performance of rare virtuosity, will only feel sadness that something which meant so much to the new young champion has now been cast aside.

The reasoning is clear. The WBO said Hamed should face the challenge of a Hungarian, Istvan Kovacs, their number one contender, on November 4th. Hamed refused to take the fight and, rather than face the ignominy of being stripped of his belt, elected to fall on his sword.

The exact reason Hamed chose to let the title go is, as so often in boxing, to do with money. The Kovacs contest would have needed to be staged in Europe because the Hungarian is not deemed to have an adequate profile to tempt a major American venue to underwrite the exercise. More than that, American television was unconvinced.

The cable network HBO, the biggest players in televised boxing, have Hamed tied into a long-term contract which guarantees him around $6 million a fight. But they have become edgy about handing over money for contests which have looked, in their eyes, like stage-managed pushovers.

When Hamed launched his American career in New York in 1997 with a stunningly exciting four-round win over Kevin Kelley, it seemed Britain had a superstar who was about to be embraced by a global audience. However, subsequent years have failed to produce results and performances to follow up the early promise.

And in August, while Hamed was nursing bruises from an unexpectedly tough fight against Augie Sanchez, an opponent hand-picked to showcase Hamed's talents, HBO executives were muttering away behind the scenes suggesting the time had come for more meaningful encounters.

The only muscle HBO have is cash and Hamed's older brother and manager Riath was made to understand that Kovacs was inadequate. If the fight was to go ahead, HBO would reduce Hamed's payment by 30 per cent, guaranteeing little more than $4 million.

It was a deal the Hameds were reluctant to accept, especially as talks had progressed favourably with the management of the Mexican Marco Antonio Barrera who had agreed in principle to the possibility of their fighter, thought to be one of the names hitherto avoided, meeting Hamed in Las Vegas next spring.

Riath Hamed suggested the WBO should waive the necessity of his brother facing Kovacs. He argued that the WBO president Francisco Valcarcel should return the loyalty Naseem had shown when forced to choose between the World Boxing Council title and the WBO crown after he beat the Mexican WBC champion Cesar Soto in a unification fight in Detroit last year. Hamed said the WBO belt he won from Robinson was the one he cherished most.

But the gamble backfired. Valcarcel's WBO has a stronger foothold in Germany than anywhere else in the world and Kovacs' German promoter Klaus Peter Kohl argued persuasively that his fighter should have his title opportunity.

Riath has also asked the WBO to name Hamed as its number one challenger for the winner of the fight between Kovacs and whoever he faces for the vacant title.

In 2001, Hamed will be forced into potentially epic confrontations with the Mexican's Barrera and Erik Morales as television increasingly calls the shots. A neutral observer might be forced to conclude Hamed has lost control of his own destiny and is facing the beginning of the end. Perhaps the opposite is true and at last he will take the fights to prove his own boast that he can, in truth, become "a legend".