Those of us now showing our age doubtless will recall the ditty trilled by Noel Coward around half a century ago in which he urged a certain Mrs Worthington not to put her daughter on the stage. An updated lyric might be: "Don’t put your daughter in the ring, Mr Warren."

Frank Warren, Britain’s leading fight promoter, insists he wouldn’t anyway. He’s dead set against women’s boxing, amateur or pro. So is my good friend Colin Hart, The Sun’s doyen of fistic scribes who says he wouldn’t touch the new latest sport to get Olympic recognition with the proverbial barge pole.

And world champion Amir Khan, who I saw bury his head in the programme at ringside rather than watch an inaugural women’s bout during the ABA championships last year, reckons girls should stick to swapping forehands on the tennis court.

They are probably in the majority in the ultra-chauvinistic fight game, but, like it or not, not women boxers will be doing their best to belt bits off each other when the bell rings for the London Olympics in 2012.

As someone who has also covered boxing for many years – starting with amateurs shows as a cub reporter in south London and incorporating epics such as the Rumble in the Jungle and the Thrilla in Manila -  I suppose I should be in the anti-camp but actually I am pleased it has got on to the Olympic agenda, not least because sportswomen these days surely are as much entitled as men to utilise their strength, skill and, yes, aggression, in an activity that demands the ultimate in fitness and dexterity.

So, would I want my own daughter to box? Well, we’re at the granddaughter stage now – my daughter Clare, who is actually a judo coach, has an 11-year-old so I asked her the question. Her answer: “Why not, if she wants to. Had boxing been more available to women when I was a judo player (she was a first dan black belt) I might have tried it myself. I don’t think at amateur level it is any more dangerous than other martial arts, or even horse riding and diving. You have protective headgear (which you don’t have in judo or karate or kick boxing), it seems well controlled and teaches self-discipline, confidence, and self-respect."

I became converted to women’s boxing some five years ago when I interviewed Amanda Coulson, then rated Britain's best female amateur boxer, having first got the gumshield between her teeth as a 13-year-old. Apologies for sounding sexist but she was a real head-turner, and like Laila Ali, who inherited her old man Muhammad 's looks and a semblance of his skill but, seemingly more suited to the catwalk than the canvas. But watching her sparring prowess convinced me – and also Britain’s then national coach Terry Edwards – that there was more to it than just handbags at ten paces, though you soon  realise that women's boxing is as different to men's as women's tennis is different to men's tennis. It's fencing with gloves on.

And those who say they are shocked by then sight of women biffing each other obviously haven’t been out and about in Newcastle or Cardiff on a Saturday night.

So do they get hurt? Well I suspect not as much as they do in judo or taekwondo, both perfectly acceptable as Olympic pursuits for both sexes. My daughter ended up in hospital after being thrown and concussed in judo, a sport which even permits a little bit of strangling. And you can get your teeth kicked in at taekwondo, where you can use both fists and feet - ask Britain’s Beijing bronze medallist, Sarah Stevenson.

There is also a misconception that women boxers are all butch and biceps, or as intimidating out of the ring as ex-professional Jane Couch, aka the Fleetwood Assassin, who once flattened a bloke in a Blackpool bar when he patted her bum 

Back in the early nineties, when women first pulled on the gloves in Britain, one of the organisers of the inaugural female national championships, Sue Atkins, declared: "People have this image of two dykes with shaved heads slugging it out. This is not what it is about." Indeed not.

Mick Gannon, the ex-Amy PTI who coaches the GB women’s squad, says: "These girls are boxers but they are also ladies – a little bit girlie in some ways. They don’t have the animal aggression or explosive power of men. I look upon women’s boxing as a form of dance routine with skill and my job is to put a bit of snap into it."

I agree with Lucy O’Connor, Britain’s 29-year-old Euro bronze medallist, a Royal Navy lieutenant is married to a Services boxing coach, who says the traditional stigma that has been attached to women’s boxing has now gone. "People are starting to appreciate it’s a technical sport, a thinking woman’s sport. It’s not a barbaric duel, more like chess in the ring."

Of course the British Medical Association will have apoplexy, as they still do over men’s boxing, but remember this is amateur boxing complete with headguards, breast protectors and a limit of four two minute rounds. There has has not been a serious injury at amateur level in the men’s game for years and none that I can recall in the Olympics. Bouts are usually halted before any damage is done, even for a nosebleed, and you can be sure the girls will be even better protected by the medicos.

The traditionalists and chauvinists may not like it, but it is right that fisticuffs and the fair sex can now go hand in boxing glove in the Games, where the boxing belle of 2012 is likely to be Katie Taylor, the delightful, Irish girl who is current 60 kg world and European champion and also plays football for her country. Ringside aficionados at London’s ExCel, where the Olympic boxers seem to have won their scrap to fight in 2012, will see she is something special. 

Yet it wasn't so long ago that a woman's place in the boxing ring was pouting, not clouting, parading with the round cards. You've come a long way, Million Dollar Babies...

Alan Hubbard is a sports columnist and boxing correspondent of The Independent on Sunday, and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered 11 summer Olympics