'Lympics, 'lympics, 'lympics!

The beginning of the men's 5000

What now?  No seriously. What now?  I know there’s the Paralympics (which will be brilliant, of course) and the Premier League will shortly grace us with its disgustingly comforting presence. Still though, I ask you... WHAT NOW?!  

Undoubtedly my London 2012 highlight was being there to witness Mo Farah win the gold medal in the men’s 5000m*, followed closely by Jamaica smashing the world record in the men’s 4x100m relay.  During Farah’s last lap of the track the crowd were out of this world.  I’ve seen a lot of live sport but I have never witnessed anything like this.  In. Credible.  

The Olympic Spirit

So it all kicks off this Friday!  I know it's not cool to be a Londoner and to get excited about the Games - after all it's screwing with our travel, we've had to foot the bill, it's going to rain etc - but I could not be more freaking excited if I tried.  At the very least, it's doing wonders for filling the Premier League shaped hole in my life right now.

Britain's very own million dollar baby

Aside from the numerous records that will no doubt get smashed at the forthcoming Olympics, something is about to happen that you will have never seen before.  London 2012 will be the first games in which women are allowed to box.  Make no mistake, it’s going to be awesome.  How it’s taken this long is beyond me, but I’m damn sure that were it not for the will of Jane Couch (MBE) we might have had to wait another 4 years for this to happen.

Until 1998 it was illegal for ladies to get involved with the sport.  During the summer of this year, Jane Couch changed the world of boxing in a ground breaking court case against the British Boxing Board of Control.  Prior to this trial, they had refused to grant her with a boxing licence on the grounds that PMS made women too unstable to box.  Yes, before you ask, that’s the same BBBoC that granted Tyson with a licence.  Twice.   

How have we gone without Chessboxing for so long, I ask you?

Chessboxing.  Two things that sound wrong in the same sentence, let along the same word.  But yes, these two disciplines have been brought together to form what is, I have recently learned, the most incredible hybrid sport you could ever imagine. 

The rules are, there are no rules.  That’s a lie.  There’s tons.  But in essence, the state of play is thus:  two people battle it out for one round of chess (usually for four minutes) at the end of which the board is swiftly removed and both contenders slug it out in for a round of boxing (three minutes).   Rinse and repeat for 11 rounds, or until someone gets knocked out or achieves check mate.

People are amazing

People really are amazing.  As I write this (bar 2 glasses of red) I am indeed sober - this overwhelming affection for my fellow man is not substance induced, but born of the sheer respect I felt when watching the heroic, athletic display that was the final of the Australian Open. 

Oh boy, what a week!

Nothing can get me down at the moment.  Liverpool's dominance over the teams of Manchester has done wonders for my disposition.  Granted, there are still major cracks - evidently I'm not the only one to gripe at Carroll's lack of pace or the pointlessness of Henderson's general presence - but in this past week, our play has been much improved.  Most notably, the KOP is rocking once more.  Dare I say it, I feel as if we've turned a corner.  Boom.

The legacy of the games. All of them.

Things cranked up a notch this week on the topic of the old Olympics.  There seems to be an ever increasing presence of athletes in adverts, in the press and in the general day to day discussions that I'm having - helped out of course by the fact we discovered that 'Golden Balls' is probably going to represent us in the footy.  Anyone who really believes that his inclusion in the team depends on his form is an idiot.  It's a dead cert in my mind that he'll be the focus of team GB.

'I am not a man. I am Cantona.'

I feel it is my public duty to refer you to a brilliant article I came across this week about the wonder that is Eric Cantona.  Read it now and thank me later.

Let's be honest.  Cantona becoming the President of France, is by some way more of a joke than Arnie becoming Governor of California or Boris becoming Mayor of London.  Simply because it is also a bit genius.  All I can say is that if something as crazy as this happens, then I'm glad it was during my generation.

In any case, isn't France already run by a lunatic?  How bad could it really be?

All's fair...

I'll be the first to admit that up until Thursday, I was disappointed in Amir Khan.  I mean I actually even used the phrase 'he needs to man up and move on' at one point (no that does not make me a chav).  All I can say is I'm sorry Amir.  Really.  I've seen the replays of this Mustfa Ameen fellow (the one in the hat) and I completely agree with you - it is a #khanspiracy indeed.

I think in a funny way this whole mess could actually have done Khan a favour though.  During the fight it became abundantly clear that still, he needs to improve his strength.  Pace has of course always been his friend, and now he has a second shot at reinforcing this speed with an extra injection of power.  If he doesn't do it now, he never will.

Hello 2012, goodbye social life...

If the first day of 2012 is anything to go by we're in for a corker of a sporting year.  Even without the Olympics it looks oh so beautiful.  I cannot bloody wait!  

Magic needed in Mersyside

First things first, my thoughts on Liverpool FC.  Racist scandals aside, it is not a good time right now, we run a real risk of rendering ourselves a mid-table club for the forseeable.  It breaks my little wannabe Scouse heart.  This next transfer window is obviously crucial.

Already there are rumours of us making a play for Darren Bent.  He will of course be overpriced, but sadly our position is a secret to no one - we need help and our friends across the pond will willingly  throw money at the problem, in an attempt to do something, anything, to remedy our current mediocrity.  Even my Nan knows this, so Mr McLeish will certainly use it to his advantage.

Aside from caning our bank balance, I'm hoping that we start to showcase the strength of our youth too.  What can Coady, Sterling and Robinson really do?  They're famous at the academy (with good reason) and could put Kirkby on the map, but people need to see them.  At a time when our first team is fairly new to each other, it'd be nice to give these boys a chance.  It would also give us hope, something Liverpool fans are short of for the first time in my memory.

All eyes on Jan 31st...

Fists of Fury

This is surreal.  I’m on my way to Lancaster to interview Tyson Fury – the current British and Commonwealth Heavyweight Boxing Champion.  With Britain’s reputation in this division at an all time low, can this hungry young fighter rescue us from complete obliteration within the realm of the Heavyweights?  Well folks, I’m about to find out...  

I’m due to meet Fury at his home from home – a caravan parked in his Uncle Hughie’s yard, situated next to his very own boxing gym.  Truth be told I have no idea what to expect and if I’m honest, am a little worried. 

You see, I’ve read all about Tyson’s gypsy upbringing and am well aware that fighting is in his very blood.  I’ve also read about Tyson’s Dad, who’s currently in prison for gauging out a man’s eye with his bare finger (yes, you heard, his FINGER).  So yup, I’m fairly scared.  I mean what if he’s got a dog?  A big fat gypsy dog that mauls me to death.  Balls.  Maybe this is a bad idea?       

I arrive at the main house, take a deep breath and knock on the door.  No barking.  Result. 

I am quickly shown to the caravan where Tyson stays and am then introduced to his family.  It soon becomes apparent that I need not worry, they are all lovely.  His gorgeous wife (Paris) busies herself in the kitchen and his two year old daughter (Venezuela) plays quietly as I sit down with her Daddy and ask him about punching people’s lights out.

Talking the talk...

‘I really believe that when it’s my time to fight for the World title,’ Tyson Fury takes a moment and pauses for effect ‘I will cause so much damage and uproar, that the world is going to go crazy.  It is my destiny to become the Champion of the World.’  That’s fairly big talk for a young lad raised in a caravan in Manchester.  But then again, at 6 foot 9 inches and 18 stone, big talk is somewhat fitting.  Fury gained his title following a comfortable defeat over former champ Derek Chisora earlier this year.  He remains undefeated, having triumphed against Nicholas Firtha just last month.  He’s got fire in belly, fighting in his blood and he means business. 

Son of John ‘The Gypsy’ Fury…

These days his home from home is the caravan stood next to one of his two gyms.  Separated from other travellers, it allows Tyson to get his head down and provides him with much greater focus.  A situation that is actually somewhat familiar to him - ‘when we grew up, we never really lived on a big site or went around with much travellers to be honest.  We were really isolated from them until I got married basically.’  He informs me that he had a traditional wedding, but that there was nothing big or fat about it. 

Tyson’s father, John Fury, built up a reputation as a bare knuckle fighter, so I’m keen to find out if he too cut his teeth on the streets?  The answer is absolutely not. ‘I wouldn’t be interested in bare knuckle fighting.  I’m a high performance athlete, yeah?  In professional sports.  So for me to go down to bare knuckle fighting on the streets is just nonsense really.’  Tyson is only interested in boxing, not fighting - clearly two different things in his mind.  ‘To be honest, I’ve not had a fight outside the boxing ring in my life.  And that’s hard [to believe] coming from me, isn’t it?  But I’ve never had a fight.  The area I grew up in wasn’t like a rough area.  And most of the time I’ve been in the gym, I’ve been a boxer, so I kept out of trouble thank God.’ 

Big man, big ambitions…

The heavyweight division, particularly in this country, is in a sorry state.  And with Tyson admitting to only starting a serious training regime recently (despite having been professional for 3 years) it’s easy to understand why.  His lifestyle of partying, eating junk and drinking took a dramatic turn on 19^th December 2010, when Tyson saw the replay of his fight with Zack Page.  ‘I looked in outrageous shape, like, I looked disgusting, it was horrible.  In boxing, if you look in bad shape, people criticise you for being out of shape - rather than your actual strength and the fact that you’ve won.’  Since then, he’s adopted an entirely different approach and is certainly a man with a plan.  And a very grand plan it is too. 

‘The Klitschkos ain’t very far away to be honest, so I’m absolutely taking it deadly serious.  Me diet’s 100% and I’ve got everything I need now [points to his gym].  For my last fight I was in good shape and I keep getting better all the time.  Now we’ve got the channel 5 deal, this is hopefully gonna build my profile and I’ll be a household name within 18 months.’ By which time, he says he’ll be ready to take on one of the Klitschkos – and win.  But why wait so long?  ‘Professional boxing is a business and I’m a businessman.  I ain’t just gonna fight for a few quid when I could build a big fight up and get paid a lot of money.  It’s all about building big fights and getting the nation behind me.’ 

Of course, by this time it is entirely possible that one, if not both of the Klitschkos will have retired, so isn’t that all a bit of a cop out?  He insists not.  ‘If they’ve retired then good riddance to 'em!  If not, then it’ll be time to unleash the Fury!’  Furthering his bravado, he goes on ‘oh and I’m not going to Germany.  They’ve got to come here because they need me, more that I need them.  They’ve never fought someone so big as me before.  Never fought someone as young and as ambitious as me before.  And have never fought anyone as dangerous as me before.  I believe I can beat any man in the world and it’s just about the right timing.’ 

There’s no business like show business…

Named after the great Mike Tyson, Fury’s love for the fight game has led him to strive for a reputation rivalling the great and the good; ‘Look at Muhammad Ali, look what he done.  Look at Naseem Hamed coming in on his magic carpet.  Look at Mike [Tyson] and the extravagant stuff he’s done.  This is entertainment, show business, it’s not just a sport.  I’m here to entertain the boxing world and the general public.  So I’ll do what I have to do.  If it means coming in on a white horse in me underpants, that’s what I’ll do.’  

During his fight with Chisora he went the distance and won on points, something he’s never done before but is keen to make a habit of, in order to ensure his fights are every bit as entertaining as his entrances.  ‘With the next 5 fights, I’m hoping that I’m not gonna knock anyone out – if they’re there to get knocked out, they will be – but we’re trying to get me some tough opponents to get me ready for these big guys.  There’s nothing better than actually getting the rounds in with dangerous opponents.’  His last fight was won by stoppage, so this strategy has yet to come into effect.  


Regardless, it’s evident that Tyson knows he’s not ready to take on Eastern Europe just yet.

Eye of the tiger…

In order to achieve these dizzy heights, having a gym a mere stone’s throw away comes in mighty handy when trying to focus oneself.  Tyson has a seriously cool set-up.  From the cold concrete floor, to the well-worn speedball, from the rusty weights to the broken mirrors, it is a real boxers gym. There is a leaky roof, which Tyson jokily refers to has his ‘inbuilt cooling system’ and a rugged boxing ring, which dominates the space.  A few miles away in Manchester, he also has a state of the art shiny new gym.  But Tyson prefers it here, ‘I like old-fashioned back street gyms.  Being in an old gym, in a scruffy place is better for me.’  It’s easy to imagine him running up and down the steps of the local town hall, for make no mistake, he is a walking talking Rocky.  In more ways than one. 

The only other thing that Tyson lives for is his family.  It would seem that on this front his plans are equally ambitious.  ‘We’re hoping to get about 10 children in.  Being a gypsy, that’s what travellers do, we have big families.  I think what’s the point in getting married if you’re not going to have any kids?  God’s allowing us to have kids, so we take advantage of it.  That’s what this is for basically.  I’m gonna go as far as I can in boxing and earn as much money as I can to keep all me family in the future.  I’m just gonna give them the opportunities that I never had when I was a child.’

The future’s fast, the future’s Furyous…

So the future’s bright in camp Fury and as yet nobody’s managed to topple Tyson, but is he fearful of defeat?  Far from it, apparently he considers it to be character building. ‘Well I could easily remain an undefeated fighter if I wanted to retire!  But I’m not finished just yet.  Look at all the great fighters, they’ve all lost, sooner or later.  It’s not about if a man loses, it’s how you bounce back from it and what comes next.  Great champions aren’t made from losing one fight and then quitting.  Great champions are made from coming back, from nowhere, to being the great once again.’


Fury definitely embodies an addiction to the sport common to the greats of yesteryear.  Irrespective of the glory he craves, he says ‘I just love boxing.  Some people wanna get in and out quickly, I’ve been doing it all my life.  I don’t know anything else, so I’ll be boxing until I can’t box anymore.  So what’s the next step on his path to glory?  ‘Well, I can’t really say too much, but we have got a big big date, a big surprise coming up in the new year.’   

Not everyone is convinced by Tyson’s plan though and he certainly still has a lot to prove - accusations of poor technique and easy opponents have done him no favours.  Whatever your opinion of him though, you can’t deny that Tyson Fury is entertaining and is just what the sport needs right now - ‘I aint in this just to earn money and to be a boxer, I’m in it to leave a mark in life and for people to remember me for the next hundred years as they do Achilles and all the greats.’  Right then.  Should be interesting.   

Tyson and I in his gym.  I was in my element.  He's so lovely! 

Special thanks to Jide Fadojutimi for the photos.  You're quite simply awesome. x

  

The ultimate challenge has arrived...

I want to introduce you to something that I think might revolutionalise your life.  A big statement I know, so brace yourselves...

I have often searched for a sport that demands of the mind what it seeks from the body.  I'm gaga about golf, dappy about darts and crazy for cricket - I'm even gaining a growing appreciation for F1, but still the mental/strategic elements required in these disciplines doesn't test the brain to its very limits.  I can't be the only one who has thought of this, for lo, last week I learned of something that attempts to fill this gaping void.  Ladies and Gents, I give you Chessboxing.  And I'm not even making it up.

'The basic idea in chess boxing is to combine the number one thinking sport with the number one fighting sport into a hybrid that demands the most of its competitors both mentally and physically.' (World Chess Boxing Organisation).   Jackpot.  I highly recommend that you Youtube the pants off this.  You will not be disappointed.

NEVER let your guard down.

Victor Ortiz is an unlucky man, yet not one I feel sorry for. As expected with a clash of this magnitude, both fighters were as aggressive outside the ring as they were in it. They certainly did justice to prime time boxing, even if it was all over in the fourth.

Had Ortiz payed attention to the recent Khan v Judah fight (you would've hoped he was watching carefully, no?) and the controversy caused by the final decision there, then I expect that he would have refrained from flinging his arms wide and leaving himself open to all manner of mischief. Particularly after dishing out a Tyson-esque head-butt, followed by a kiss. Oo-er.

Nothing dreamy about this team, my friend...

I have not had a fantasy football team since I was at school, I maintain that there are two good reasons for this.  Firstly, upon leaving secondary school (well, all right, before leaving secondary school), I discovered alcohol and boys.  Now, I can categorically confirm that these two activities alone are far more time consuming than one might think.  Secondly, and more to the point, I feared that having a dream team would affect my hopes/superstitions/opinions on what went on daily in the league.

I was right.

I am officially an underdog

How the mighty fall...

If you've read my blog before, you'll know that when England and India face each other, I have quite a dilemma and can therefore be somewhat of a fence sitter.  This time though, things would be different.  I would choose a team at the start of the series and I would support them heart and soul.  I chose... India.  And then England decided to get their shit together.

Regarding this last test, in fairness, we were pretty evenly matched during the first innings.  Broad's hat-trick was a significant turning point and gave a glimpse of the coating that we would receive on Monday.  His destruction of our lower batting order was something that India just never recovered from.  Then in the second innings, England were actually magic.  An impressively skilful batting display (even with Bell's cock up, by the way aren't India nice?) set an almost impossible target.  Balls.

Best of British

I swear that once I've seen the first round of a fight, I can tell you who is going to win. Jammy as I may sound, I was right on both occasions this weekend, so you know, that's basically science right there. Saturday night was everything I wanted it to be; entertaining, dramatic and full of surprises. The winners of both fights (Khan v Judah and Chisora v Fury) were hungry for victory as soon as the bell rang. It was awesome stuff.

Cool, Khan, collected...

  

The second I saw Zab Judah with his top off, I panicked. Not because I swooned or owt, but because he was cut like a mother trucker. He'd clearly taken the prep for this fight very seriously and despite my confidence in the Khan + Roach + Ariza formula, part of me wondered if Zab's experience just might prevail. Then I saw the first round and like I say, I knew differently.

From the off Khan brought the fight to Judah. The bell sounded and a second later Khan was lunging in, letting Judah know that he'd come to play with the big boys. Round 1 - Khan. No contest.

Less BS, more boxing please

Cook gets Burn-ed

This weekend saw Ricky Burns (WBO Super Featherweight Champion) face Nicky Cook at the Liverpool Echo Arena; if you happened to blink in the first round then you'll have been unlucky enough to miss the whole thing. With a clean right hand shot to the body, Burns managed to completely annihilate his evidently injured opponent. 90 seconds later and Cook's corner threw in the towel.

This kind of bollocks really annoys me. Cook has a degenerative spinal conditional, which (whilst obviously awful) in my book renders him unsuitable as an opponent in a title fight. Now that may not be fair, but life, and more specifically boxing, is not fair folks. Of course I admire Cook and his dogged determination, but the reality is that this fight should never have happened.

Thinks aint look too shabby where I'm sat.

In the wake of Haye's defeat, there has been some concern over the future of British boxing. To those casting the damning prognosis, my response is simply this: just you wait for July 23rd. Amir Khan (and his newly reinforced chin) will be kicking off Vegas style against Zab Judah; plus the heavyweight fight of the year (yes, I actually mean that) will be taking place at Wembley between Dereck Chisora and Tyson Fury (his name is Fury!).

It would appear therefore, that the Haye / Klitschko 'panto' was merely a prologue for the main acts of the boxing summer. So, let's have a look at what we can expect from these two epic battles...

All mouth, no Hayemaker...

Anyone who knows anything about boxing will tell you that balance is crucial.  Good connection with the floor and steadiness are the bedrock of proper technique.  So yes, a broken toe is going to bugger things up a bit, if you happen to be boxing in the biggest heavyweight fight of the year.

Going into this bout, I really wanted Haye to win (I thought Klitschko would clinch it though, hence my reluctance to put my moola where my mouth was).  His instinct to blame his injury immediately after losing, shocked me a little and smacked of poor sportsmanship.  Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, in fact I'd quite happily have his babies (I'm a sucker for the guns, what can I say?!).  I just wanted more from someone I respect as much as him.  Haye's since acknowledged that Wladimir was just the better boxer, but he kind of has to say that really, since it's the truth.

Pass me a bucket...

Now, as I write this, Murray is bringing his A game to Nadal and every other sports related tweet I read is about the fight tomorrow.  It is a good weekend for sport.  That said, there's one thing which irks me a little, so I thought I'd share it with you lovely lot.

It's all getting a bit bromanitc for my liking.  McIlroy loves Murray, who loves Haye, who loves him as well etc.  All this patting on the back makes me want to vom.  I think it's great when sports people support one another, but there's a line, and flying back from Hamburg to watch a Wimbledon final, in my book crosses it a bit.

Camaraderie, yes.  Bromance, no.