Chris Eubank: The Autobiography. Chris Eubank

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DEDICATION

      To Ena, Irvin,

      Christopher, Sebastian, Joseph, Emily and Karron

      CONTENTS

       Cover

       Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

PART ONE: LEARN THE ART

1 A Hard-knocks Life

2 Designer Thief

3 Posers, Bullies and Triers

4 Golden Boy

5 Doctor Johnson

PART TWO: APPLY THE PHILOSOPHY

6 Homesick

7 Hate me, but don’t Disrespect Me

       8 It’s a Mug’s Game

       PART THREE: ACQUIRE THE FINANCIAL SECURITY

       9 WBO Middleweight Champion

       10 The Warrior Within

       11 Godspeed Shattered

       12 This Spartan Life

       13 The Showman

       14 Destroying the Destroyer . . . Finally

       15 Tyson

       PART FOUR: ACHIEVE THE FAME

       16 The Sky’s the Limit

       17 Max

       18 Community Spirit

       19 Psychologically Challenged

       20 Luck of the Irish

       21 Style on the Nile

       PART FIVE: EARN THE RESPECT

       22 Winning the Lottery

       23 A Sweet Tooth and Swollen Eyes

       24 Samantha

       25 A Heavy Heart

       26 Just Being Me

       27 At Home with the Eubanks

       Picture Section

       Epilogue

       Career Statistics

       Index

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      Mandela

      To whoever it may concern: There isn’t any bigger slavery than the slavery of compromise and acceptance of all the wrongs perpetrated against the African and Africa.

      I never thought thoughts to make me otherwise than what I am, so my obliviousness to what you have been taught to think I should be is a statement of my humanity. As a footnote to that, it is a fact that human character is independent of colour and creed.

PROLOGUE

      ‘Ice cream, jelly and a punch in the belly.’ Dorothy used to say this to me every time I went round to her house. She was a very old, German Jewish lady, aged 93, whom my mother worked for as a live-in nurse in New York. I was only 19, negotiating my way through life in one of the toughest cities in the world. I had been sent to the Big Apple to distract me from the life of delinquency that threatened to pull me under back in England.

      I loved Dorothy; she used to call me ‘sonny boy’. She accepted me. She was wheelchair-bound and I used to pick her up to put her into bed. I would sit and talk to her while my mother, a kind and extremely generous woman, СКАЧАТЬ