Chris Eubank: The Autobiography. Chris Eubank

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СКАЧАТЬ and even see a plan before them, but very few people apply themselves and persist. They sometimes fall foul of the easy routes – laziness, drugs, women, squandering – but that’s not who I am.

      I’m not saying this was Dennis, of course. However, the shame of it was that, as with many fighters, he never made the big time. I have since heard he had personal problems. That was a terrible shame, because he was an astonishing fighter. He was only 1351b but was a grandmaster of the craft. This is not generous credit I am giving Dennis here, this is just a fact, an observation.

      The first trainer I had was an older man called Andy Martinez, a Puerto Rican. He was only about 5’ tall. He got me exceptionally fit. He taught me only two punches, which were the straight left and the straight right, no hooks to the body, no body shots. He only worked with amateurs, mainly getting them in shape – which he did superbly. After about two years with him, I wanted to work with Maximo Perez, the main trainer at the Jerome boxing gym. He was from the Dominican Republic and had trained Dennis Cruz: he was our undisputed, sought-after, top man. Maximo had been a fighter himself – for me it is only logical that the best trainers are former boxers, not enthusiasts or observers. You need a brain that knows how it feels to be punched, how to throw punches correctly. Maximo had all the moves and could teach you everything. For me, he was the definitive trainer.

      At the time I took a great deal of advice and counsel from the gym owner, Adonis. I said to him privately, ‘The time has now come for me to learn more punches and evolve into a better fighter and I can’t do that with Andy.’ Very diplomatically, Adonis said to me, ‘That will be seen as unkind by him because he bought you your first pair of boxing boots, he gives you money for orange juice after training every day. You need to resolve this matter with a great deal of care.’

      I acknowledged this point but replied, ‘I appreciate immensely all the things Andy’s done, the time he’s taken with me, the nights he drove me home or gave me money for food because I didn’t have anything. I sincerely appreciate that, but am I supposed to hold myself back because someone has been nice to me? I am trying to make this my way of life. I want be a good fighter and to do that I need a better trainer.’ I had learned all he could teach me. Adonis was, of course, right, so I thought very carefully about how to speak to Andy with suitable tact.

      I was very anxious not to hurt Andy’s feelings. I said to him, ‘I don’t want to upset you, but it is time for me to move on now. I need to work with another trainer and if you don’t allow me to then all you are doing is holding me back. That is unfair, I’m sure you don’t want to do that. This is not about you, it’s about me, I’m not using you, I’m just trying to get ahead. The fact that you’ve helped so much, I thank you deeply, but I need to move on.’ I am proud that, although I was a young fighter, I had the courage to tell Andy. So many fighters do not tell their trainer anything, even in the gym, so they end up stifling their careers with the wrong trainer.

      Maximo took me on for about a week and then said, ‘You’re punching like a girl, I’m tired of telling you the same thing about the left hook – you’re slapping the left hook. Go back to Andy.’ I told him I would get it right, so I went into the corner of the gymnasium and stood close by the wall for over an hour and a half, throwing the left hook, over and over and over, hundreds of times. Trying to get the pivot right, I had to get the angle right. Over and over, thousands of times in the corner, every day, obsessively for weeks. This was a routine of my own making – if I was ever unhappy with a particular punch or move, I would stop, retreat into the corner of the gym and repeat, repeat, repeat. Thousands of times. By the end of each little punishment session, I would be drenched in sweat. This was intense, I wouldn’t just throw the punch, I was trying to perfect every intricate detail.

      So although my training with Maximo lasted only two weeks, I continued to train with him from afar. I had already been watching him work with his stable of six professional fighters from across the gym anyway. I would observe and listen to what he was saying and explaining, then mimic it myself. Even though he didn’t have the time to train me, he was, effectively, because I had a very watchful eye, which is the key to success at anything. In the end, I didn’t need him to teach me directly, all I needed to do was to watch him teach other fighters and duplicate that.

      For example, when one of his fighters was sparring, I would shadow box his every move from across the gym. If he threw a right, I would evade, then counter; it was as if I was physically in the ring with the boxer. I learned so much that way. Some of Maximo’s fighters were of an excellent calibre – there was a fellow called Salano who I took a few moves from regarding escape, moving away from an opponent.

      So I watched, I listened, I learned, then I repeated, reviewed and revised. Every minute detail of every move or punch was practised thousands and thousands and thousands of times. After a while, I took what I learned from Maximo and started to add my own spice, my own flavour and personality. That was when I started to evolve towards being a complete fighter. This process was equipping me in depth with the skills needed to do my job – the heart, that intangible, unquantifiable, primal factor, was another matter.

      People sometimes say to me why do you have to repeat one punch so many times to perfect it? Well, these are not simple skills. It took me two years to learn how to throw the right hand. Then there’s the left hook, the right hand to the body, the left upper cut to the body, the right upper cut to the body, the right hook to the body – these punches take years and years to learn. You don’t climb through the ropes and just do it.

      I was about 19 years old when I first learned how to throw body punches, that’s three years after I had first started boxing. Initially, they taught me to punch straight out, 1-2, 1-2, load up and keep on punching. Even that took ages to master, it was very hard. But I applied myself very stringently in the gym. Over months and months of repetition, I observed and criticised my every movement. I imagined taking myself out of my own body then analysing myself in minute detail from the other side of the gymnasium.

      People outside of the boxing fraternity do not realise what complexity is involved in throwing just one single punch. You don’t punch from the arm or even from the shoulder. You punch from the foot. The wave of movement travels from the toe, through the foot, knee, hip and chest, sears up the arm, forearm, wrist and finally into the knuckles. Then the index knuckle and middle knuckle are the two which need to connect. These two knuckles flow from a direct line straight up your arm. The other knuckles don’t have the same support, so if you connect badly with the other two you are likely to hurt your hand. Sometimes you connect correctly with the two correct knuckles and that is the perfect punch. When that happens they just go. Lights out – good night Charlie.

      If that is done correctly, which is hard enough, you then have to complete the procedure, which involves getting your fist back into the correct position by your chin, your body is pulled back into form and you are ready to go again. If you can do that meticulously, you will have probably taken two or three years to master it – and now you know just one punch. This was what I was learning all those years. I wanted to know everything.

CHAPTER FOUR

       GOLDEN BOY

      In my first amateur fight, the referee stopped the contest after only 30 seconds . . . and declared me the loser. The guy wasn’t the same weight as me, perhaps only ten pounds heavier, but that is a big advantage in the ring. He hit me in the chest with a perfect punch and I was so startled by the weight behind it that I stuttered back and froze. I couldn’t move, so the referee stopped the fight. I won eight amateur bouts on the trot after that, all three-rounders, stoppages or decisions. My amateur career consisted of 26 fights, seven of which I lost and the remainder I won. I was already incredibly focused, but now I was beginning to develop some momentum.

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