Ingle, Lennox, killers and prison
Posted: 17 Oct 2003, 06:07
By FRANK MALONEY
FIGHTERS put their lives on the line each time they step between the ropes — but nothing can prepare for the reality of when something goes seriously wrong.
I discovered exactly that when so many people turned their backs on Paul Ingle after it went tragically wrong for him.
Paul was left fighting for his life after losing his world featherweight title to African Mbulelo Botile in Sheffield.
He collapsed with a blood clot and it needed all the skill of neurosurgeon Robert Battersby to save him.
I was numb, in a state of shock for a long time. I questioned my own role and also wondered about boxing itself.
I was on the verge of giving up — but then I went to my brother Eugene’s gym.
I sat there surrounded by young fighters and they helped put everything into perspective.
They said boxers knew the risks and I shouldn’t blame myself.
Happily, Paul has continued to make progress since that night. But one thing I’ve noticed — when in his home town Scarborough — is how some people have changed.
When he was winning world title contests everyone wanted to know him. Once you’re no longer at the top, some don’t seem as interested.
Paul will always be a special fighter to me. What happened on that night in Sheffield was tragic but he’s not bitter or twisted. Ingle is a born fighter with the strength and character to rebuild his life.
In many ways Paul reminded me of Lennox Lewis in the sort of close relationship he had with his mother.
But while Lennox was always prepared to go into isolation to train, Paul liked staying at home.
I got on well with Ingle but one thing we disagreed on was the way he prepared. He always trained hard but also liked to have a drink and enjoy himself when not preparing.
Boredom is a big factor in camp, even Lewis can be affected so it’s good to break the routine.
One of our ‘nights out’ with Lennox, ahead of the Frank Bruno fight, was at Virginia’s Lorten Penitentiary.
No prison can be described as nice but this place was particularly depressing as the gates clanked shut behind us.
We were there to watch the inmates box and Lennox got a tremendous reception from prisoners, many of whom were lifers banged up for multiple murders.
They created a sensational atmosphere but I was a bit taken aback when I saw prison ‘bitches’ sitting ringside.
These were men who actually had breasts and long hair, although some of them still had arms and legs like tree trunks.
It was strange to see them putting on make-up as we waited for the first fight.
The shemales added to the weird atmosphere that was heightened when some of the ‘boxers’ arrived for their bout chained hand and foot with their shackles only removed once inside the ropes.
Even the referee was a scary-looking guy whose face had obviously been badly burned. It all made us realise how lucky we were to have our freedom.
For whatever reasons, those inmates had not exercised the self control needed to steer away from a life of crime.
I needed that level of control to walk away from drugs one night at my hotel in Atlantic City when Lloyd Honeyghan was due to fight Vinnie Pazienza.
The place was buzzing with boxing people and I pretty soon got an invite to a private party some very well known boxing people were holding.
I wandered up to see what was happening and was shocked. Let’s face it, I’m no choirboy but it was the identity of people involved which rocked me.
The booze was flowing and the girls were hookers. But these very well-known boxing guys weren’t just into drink and women, they were also keen on cocaine.
I was offered some as if it was a cup of tea — and there were some puzzled looks when I declined.
“You keep going the way you do and you don’t even like this stuff?” one of them said, sounding really surprised.
I’d never been into drugs and instead stuck to drinking wine as the girls worked on some of their clients.
It wasn’t a pretty sight. Some of the guys in that room were not in the best physical shape and were ugly specimens.
But they’d paid their money, or someone had, and they took their choice.
It wasn’t my sort of scene and I actually began to feel uncomfortable about the whole thing and decided it was probably best if I left.
Adapted by PAT SHEEHAN
FIGHTERS put their lives on the line each time they step between the ropes — but nothing can prepare for the reality of when something goes seriously wrong.
I discovered exactly that when so many people turned their backs on Paul Ingle after it went tragically wrong for him.
Paul was left fighting for his life after losing his world featherweight title to African Mbulelo Botile in Sheffield.
He collapsed with a blood clot and it needed all the skill of neurosurgeon Robert Battersby to save him.
I was numb, in a state of shock for a long time. I questioned my own role and also wondered about boxing itself.
I was on the verge of giving up — but then I went to my brother Eugene’s gym.
I sat there surrounded by young fighters and they helped put everything into perspective.
They said boxers knew the risks and I shouldn’t blame myself.
Happily, Paul has continued to make progress since that night. But one thing I’ve noticed — when in his home town Scarborough — is how some people have changed.
When he was winning world title contests everyone wanted to know him. Once you’re no longer at the top, some don’t seem as interested.
Paul will always be a special fighter to me. What happened on that night in Sheffield was tragic but he’s not bitter or twisted. Ingle is a born fighter with the strength and character to rebuild his life.
In many ways Paul reminded me of Lennox Lewis in the sort of close relationship he had with his mother.
But while Lennox was always prepared to go into isolation to train, Paul liked staying at home.
I got on well with Ingle but one thing we disagreed on was the way he prepared. He always trained hard but also liked to have a drink and enjoy himself when not preparing.
Boredom is a big factor in camp, even Lewis can be affected so it’s good to break the routine.
One of our ‘nights out’ with Lennox, ahead of the Frank Bruno fight, was at Virginia’s Lorten Penitentiary.
No prison can be described as nice but this place was particularly depressing as the gates clanked shut behind us.
We were there to watch the inmates box and Lennox got a tremendous reception from prisoners, many of whom were lifers banged up for multiple murders.
They created a sensational atmosphere but I was a bit taken aback when I saw prison ‘bitches’ sitting ringside.
These were men who actually had breasts and long hair, although some of them still had arms and legs like tree trunks.
It was strange to see them putting on make-up as we waited for the first fight.
The shemales added to the weird atmosphere that was heightened when some of the ‘boxers’ arrived for their bout chained hand and foot with their shackles only removed once inside the ropes.
Even the referee was a scary-looking guy whose face had obviously been badly burned. It all made us realise how lucky we were to have our freedom.
For whatever reasons, those inmates had not exercised the self control needed to steer away from a life of crime.
I needed that level of control to walk away from drugs one night at my hotel in Atlantic City when Lloyd Honeyghan was due to fight Vinnie Pazienza.
The place was buzzing with boxing people and I pretty soon got an invite to a private party some very well known boxing people were holding.
I wandered up to see what was happening and was shocked. Let’s face it, I’m no choirboy but it was the identity of people involved which rocked me.
The booze was flowing and the girls were hookers. But these very well-known boxing guys weren’t just into drink and women, they were also keen on cocaine.
I was offered some as if it was a cup of tea — and there were some puzzled looks when I declined.
“You keep going the way you do and you don’t even like this stuff?” one of them said, sounding really surprised.
I’d never been into drugs and instead stuck to drinking wine as the girls worked on some of their clients.
It wasn’t a pretty sight. Some of the guys in that room were not in the best physical shape and were ugly specimens.
But they’d paid their money, or someone had, and they took their choice.
It wasn’t my sort of scene and I actually began to feel uncomfortable about the whole thing and decided it was probably best if I left.
Adapted by PAT SHEEHAN