By the time late last week that Derek Chisora waved a contract down a phone camera at Deontay Wilder daring the former WBC heavyweight champion to sign for his 50th professional fight, it already felt like classic Del Boy theatre.

Loud. Unfiltered. Slightly absurd. And somehow sincere.

Now 40, battered but unbowed, Chisora is openly contemplating retirement. He has promised that fight number 50 will be his last — a final act for the fans who followed him through wars with Tyson Fury, Dillian Whyte, Oleksandr Usyk and countless bruising nights where victory mattered less than valour.

If that farewell opponent turns out to be Wilder, it would be fitting: two heavyweight punchers, both closer to the end than the beginning, gambling legacy against one last payday and one last roar.

Fans - mainly via social media -  have already embraced the spectacle. One joked that Chisora has “already ordered 25,000 Five Guys burgers for the crowd as his parting gift.” The humour masks a deeper truth: this is being framed not just as a fight, but as a send-off.

Styles, Miles and the Weight of History

On paper, Wilder (43-4-1, 42 KOs) remains one of the most dangerous right-hand punchers the division has ever seen. Even diminished, he carries eraser power that can end any fight in a moment. Yet recent losses to Joseph Parker and Zhilei Zhang have raised uncomfortable questions about his legs, stamina and confidence. As one fan bluntly put it: “Deontay doesn't have the legs… literally.”

Chisora (35-13, 23 KOs), meanwhile, has never relied on finesse. He thrives on pressure, physicality and attrition — leaning, mauling, walking opponents down and forcing them to fight tired. His losses have come against elite technicians, but he remains stubbornly hard to stop.

One supporter summed up the prevailing belief: “If it goes the distance, Chisora wins.”

That may be optimistic — Wilder fights rarely go long — but the tactical equation is clear. If Wilder creates space early, lands clean and forces respect, Chisora could be in real danger. If Chisora survives the opening storm, closes distance and drags Wilder into a grimy, exhausting contest, the balance could swing dramatically. As another fan predicted: “Del boy survival for 3 rounds then he does bully wilder.”

The Intangibles: Pride, Paydays and Final Chapters

This bout would not be about titles. It would be about timing, ego and exit strategy. Wilder needs relevance after consecutive defeats; Chisora wants an ending that feels worthy of the scars he’s collected.

Some fans see it as evenly matched — “now it’s a 50/50 fight… Wilder doesn't have the stamina he used to have” — others less charitable, calling it explosive “until it isn’t… then it’ll fizzle till it’s done.”

There is also an undercurrent of respect. Despite the bravado, many recognise two seasoned warriors facing the inevitable. One comment captured it cleanly: “Their attitude only comes from seasoned warriors… they have respect for their opponents and they ain’t scared.”

Another was more cynical: “They getting that money.”

Perhaps both can be true.

 Last Bell or Last Burger?

For Chisora, the fight carries added emotional weight. This could be the final chapter of a career built on entertainment as much as achievement. Fans want him to go out swinging. “Smash him Del Boy, let’s sign off in style,” read one rallying cry. Others fear the cost, warning that both men are “cooked” and hoping they “make it out of this fight ok.”

If it happens, Chisora vs Wilder will not redefine the heavyweight division. But it could deliver something rarer: a visceral, chaotic reminder of why fans fell in love with heavyweight boxing in the first place — danger, drama and defiance of the clock.

Whether it ends with a right hand, a clinch-heavy grind, or a symbolic sharing of burgers after the bell, one thing is certain: if this really is Del Boy’s last dance, he intends to leave the lights on, the grill hot, and the noise deafening.