This month, Joe Calzaghe fights Roy Jones Jr in one of the year`s

This month, Joe Calzaghe fights
Roy Jones Jr in one of the year’s
super fights. In an exclusive
interview, Calzaghe tells Inside
Sport that losing is the loneliest
place in the world. We’re not
trying to pick a fight with the
Welshman, but seriously: how
would he know?
By Patrick Lewis
espite the mouthy pre-bout
predictions of humiliation for boxers’
opponents, fights seldom end up this
way. There’s rarely any disgrace
in losing a boxing match. The simple act of
gloving up and stepping into a ring is in
itself an act of courage that absolves a fighter
from such suggestions, no matter how loud
or boastful (or tiresome) their utterances
beforehand. Our fascination with fighting
isn’t borne out of the fact that we all do it –
rather, how few of us do it.
But there IS undoubtedly something special
about a fighter who goes through a career
undefeated. You can count the names of the
greats who’ve achieved the feat on one hand
– Rocky Marciano, Terry Marsh, Laszlo Papp ...
And now, perhaps another.
We’ll find out this month if Joe Calzaghe,
undisputed champion of the highly competitive
super middleweight division, is to join this
exclusive list. It’s a testament to the chaotic
nature of world boxing that some sports fans
will raise a bewildered eyebrow and, even
now, ask, “Who?” Even in his native Britain,
Calzaghe was virtually unknown outside
boxing’s cognoscenti until just a few years
ago. It’s also a testament to the measure
of his recent achievements that last year he
was named BBC TV Sports Personality of
the Year, edging out the likes of Lewis
Hamilton and fellow boxer Ricky Hatton.
The record of this Welsh/Italian is astonishing:
not only does he hold three of the four major
belts, he’s unbeaten in 45 fights over a period
of 15 years. He’s decisively defeated the biggest
names in the game. The most recent scalps
added to the resume include Mikkel Kessler,
who lost not only his WBA and WBC titles, but
also gave up his own previously unbeaten
record; Peter Manfredo, obliterated in three
rounds; and one Bernard Hopkins, whom
Calzaghe beat on points in April this year.
In his recent autobiography, retired
heavyweight champion Evander Holyfield
discussed the strain of staying undefeated:
“Losing isn’t the dirty word most fans – and
a lot of athletes – think it is. Losing is an
important part of a competitive life. And while
nobody enjoys losing, the trick isn’t to be 100
per cent perfect all the time … I’ve spoken
072
073
Joe Calzaghe is the most notable person to
have ever grown up in the town of Newbridge,
in the south of Wales. If you don’t believe us,
dial up Wikipedia: you’ll see that he edges
out Steve Strange (frontman of a band called
Visage) and the very rich owner of the Celtic
Manor Resort, Sir Terry Matthews.
No, Calzaghe didn’t grow up in a ghetto. No,
he didn’t take up boxing because he had to fight
for his life on the mean streets of an inner city
estate. No, he’s never had to survive a drive-by.
Attempts to enliven his biography occasionally
include exploration of vague Mafia connections
from the Italian island of Sardinia, where his
father lived before emigrating to Britain. But
these too are exaggerations to add colour to
the Calzaghe life story.
Enzo Calzaghe certainly adds some zest.
He’s the short, ill-tempered father and trainer
of Joe most famous for his comments when a
microphone catches him unawares in their
corner between rounds. “Stop f****** about
and start hitting him,” he’ll yell. His presence
is also unmistakable at press conferences.
Standing in front of boxers and their entourages
twice his size, Enzo’s in their face, swearing and
snarling, refusing to let the slightest insult pass.
It all amuses Joe. “Yeah, my Dad gets fired up
sometimes more than me,” he smiles. “What can
I say? He’s Italian, isn’t he?”
After the fight, Enzo’s all charm, his arm
around Joe, a different man altogether. Father
and son partnerships aren’t uncommon in
boxing, but seldom as enduring as the Calzaghes.
“Roy Jones doesn’t really get on with his Dad,”
074
Chris Eubank was Joe Calzaghe’s
first world title victim in 1997.
“There’s
something
special
about a
fighter who
goes
through a
career
undefeated.”
Father and trainer Enzo constantly pushes Joe in
practice and in the heat of the battle [above].
Photos by Getty Images
with a lot of guys in sports who’ve had big
streaks and you know what? Almost every one
of them says the same thing, at least in private:
‘Man, I’m so relieved that’s over. I couldn’t stand
it anymore.’ And you can take this to the bank: a
lot of them, consciously or otherwise, ended it
on purpose, or at least stopped trying so hard
because it just wasn’t worth the stress. They
wanted to get back to business and stop trying
to fulfill everybody’s unrealistic expectations.”
If Calzaghe’s feeling the same way, he’s good
at disguising it. “I’ve always had tremendous
hunger going into fights. My last defeat was
as an amateur back in 1990 at the European
Championships. I used to hate losing. And I’ve
never lost since then.
“I’m 36 now and if I keep boxing, I’ll eventually
lose because everybody is human and you’ll
pass your peak and one day you’ll get beat. But
the way I look at it, this next fight against Roy
Jones Jr will be my last fight and I’ll retire
undefeated. At the end of the day, I’ve got all
the tools to beat Roy Jones and I believe 100
per cent that as long as I’m at my best and don’t
get complacent, there’s no way I’ll lose.”
So on November 8 at New York’s Madison
Square Garden, one of the most exciting boxers
of our time will step into the ring against eighttime world champion in four different weight
divisions and a 52-fight veteran, Roy Jones Jr.
But if the unthinkable were to happen? What
would Calzaghe do if he lost his final fight?
“You couldn’t retire on a defeat. I’d have to
have a re-match and kick his arse.”
says Joe. “When we’re in the gym, I respect my
father as a trainer and he talks to me as a fighter.
When I struggle to make weight, I get agitated
about everything. When you’re training at the gym
and you’re hungry, you’re bound to clash. My Dad’s
pretty fiery and he’s non-stop. Sometimes you’ve
been on the pads and you don’t want to do anything
and he’s yelling ‘do this, do that’ and we’ll have
a row and a shout and five minutes later we’re
clear-headed again. It’s a regular occurrence
between us. We’ll have an argument every now
and then but as soon as I take off the gloves, we’ll
have a cup of tea and it’s back to being father and
son again. We don’t take the boxing out of the gym.”
But Enzo can take credit for steering his son
into the fight game. His Christmas gift of a speed
ball to his then nine-year old would change both
their lives forever. “My Dad taught me the basics.
I used to box cushions, and we’d use a rolled up
carpet; that was my punching bag until I was
about ten. I used to watch Leonard and Hagler;
they were the fighters I loved as a kid. When I
was ten, he took me to the local boxing gym. The
coach couldn’t believe it was my first time in
the gym. I trained three times a week. When I
was 17, my Dad took over permanently. He used
to train me hard. I used to train like a pro even
when I was an amateur.”
Even Calzaghe is unsure of how many fights he
had as an amateur, but it’s estimated to be more
than 120. He won his first British schoolboy title at 13.
“I’ve been a champion since then. At school I never
really studied that hard because I was boxing all
the time; I was boxing at internationals, boxing for
titles. I was training twice a day, totally dedicated.
My dream was to become a world champion one
day. That’s what I always wanted to be.”
He turned professional in 1993, developing his
craft through 22 fights before finally getting a
shot at a world title; that was against the powerful
and elusive Chris Eubank for the WBO Super
Middleweight title – a fight which Calzaghe still
rates as his hardest ever. “That’s been my toughest,”
he recalls. “I wouldn’t say Eubank was the best
fighter I ever fought, but that was my first ever
12-round fight. I dropped him in the first 15 seconds
of round one and then went hell for leather trying
to knock him out.
“I experienced so much pressure from that
fight, my first ever world title fight. I was burning
a lot of nervous energy thinking about it. During
the competition, I was spent after three rounds. It
was just complete willpower and heart that kept
me in there. I was so tired. I’d only been eight
rounds once in my life before that; I knocked
everyone out in three rounds or under. To wage
a 12-round war with someone as strong as Chris
Eubank was a good baptism.”
Calzaghe, an unconventional southpaw, attributes
his ring prowess to his natural ability and his
determination to succeed. “I’m very fast and I’ve
got a tremendous work rate. My biggest strengths
would be my hand speed and my awkwardness.
I deliberately fight to be awkward. I’ve got a great
chin and I’ve got a big heart; that’s two things
you can’t teach a fighter.”
Opponents have occasionally caught his chin, but
no one has yet managed to throw a knockout punch.
The closest anyone came was Byron Mitchell, the
“Slammer from Alabama”, whose right uppercut
076
Bernard Hopkins
and Calzaghe eye off
the opposition [above]
in April before the
Welshman’s triumph.
sent him to the canvas in front of his stunned
fans back in ’03. “That was the very first time in
my entire life, in the ring or gym or anywhere,
that I’ve ever been on the floor. He caught me
with a hell of a punch. You don’t see it coming –
the one when you get dropped. All I remember
is standing up and the shock on my Dad’s face,
the crowd going silent and looking to the
referee counting me ...”
Calzaghe’s response was to floor Mitchell
seconds later. “Thank God my head cleared
quickly. I was very proud of that performance
because you can’t prepare yourself for how
you’re going to react when you go down. I got
up and didn’t hold on, I didn’t run, I just stood
toe to toe and caught him on the chin and
dropped him straight away, stopping him. It
was the most unbelievable fight. Luckily I’ve
only been on the floor three times and every
time I’ve been down, I’ve got up and my head
has cleared straight away.”
Calzaghe’s happy to talk about his strengths,
but is less expansive discussing any
weaknesses. Perhaps only his opponents are
qualified enough to answer. When asked what
those weaknesses were, American fighter Jeff
Lacy replied: “He’s willing to fight me.” Eight
years after beating Eubank and collecting his
first world title, Calzaghe faced an opponent
described as a young Mike Tyson – Lacy, a pit
bull aggressor packing a heavyweight punch.
Lacy’s ripped physique alone intimidated many
fighters. With an unbeaten 22-fight record, 17
by knockout, Lacy held the IBF Super
Middleweight belt. He summed things up pre
fight: “It’s going to be explosive because
you’ve got two guys undefeated, two guys not
used to losing. And we gonna meet in the ring
and settle that. I’m coming over to knock Joe
out. Simple as that.”
Calzaghe’s reaction was more reserved. “It’s
a boxing fight,” he stated plainly. “This is what
I do. I just have to do my thing and as long as
I do my thing, I’ve won. He’s strong, and he’s
explosive, but he doesn’t have the speed I
have, the boxing skill, or the jab.” The Lacy
camp fired back. Trainer Dan Birmingham
declared: “Calzaghe’s never experienced
pressure, power, speed, movement and
defence like Jeff’s going to present.”
At 2am on a cold winter’s morning in 2006,
16,000 fans packed out the Manchester M.E.N
Arena. From the opening round, Calzaghe’s
superior punching rate was significantly higher
than Lacy’s. Intent on causing some damage of
his own, Lacy threw powerful wide-swinging
blows. Calzaghe wore some, blocked others
and avoided the rest. By the end of the first
round, Lacy went back to his corner with blood
trickling from his nose.
Round after round, Calzaghe’s unrelenting
work rate disabled Lacy’s offensive strategy
and he was never able to unleash the knockout
blow he’d counted on. As the fight progressed
further, Lacy developed a cut over his left
eye. His caution turned to confusion and he
became more defensive as Calzaghe
overwhelmed him with his punching tempo.
The referee had to split them at the end of
the sixth round, but not before Calzaghe
078
Calzaghe’s trip to Disneyland against Byron Mitchell in 2004
was brief. He quickly returned the favour and won the bout.
“Opponents
have
occasionally
caught his
chin, but no
one has yet
managed to
throw a
knockout
punch.”
Joe chills with wife Mandy [above]
and dances with Jeff Lacy in 2006.
You know the result of the latter ...
079
An undefeated record
wasn’t enough to
save Mikkel Kessler
against Calzaghe.
“To cut a long story short,
I’d knock Mundine out.”
One more fight stands between
Calzaghe and immortality.
080
whispered something in Lacy’s ear. No one has
ever been sure precisely what Calzaghe said.
Not even the man himself. “I can’t remember
what it was,” he says. “I think I looked at him and
said, ‘We’re just getting started. Six more rounds
to go.’ It was one of those fights where I was
having so much fun. I’ve never been in a greater
state of mind as I was going into the ring that
night. I felt like nobody could beat me. I was in
total control during that fight. I couldn’t even feel
his punches. I was that psyched up.”
In the 12th round, Lacy went down from an
uppercut and was given a standing eight count.
Unheard or ignored, Lacy’s promoter shouted
frantically at his corner for the fight to be
stopped. Moments later the final bell rang.
The judges’ decision was unanimous: Calzaghe
had taken Lacy to school.
Today, Lacy is still a credible force in the super
middleweight ranks, although the Calzaghe fight
left an indelible scar on his psyche; sources say
Lacy has never been the same since ... A loss
will do that to a fighter.
Two years on, Calzaghe is very relaxed about
it all. “He didn’t personally disrespect me, but I
felt like the public did. I’d been champion eight
years. I’d injured my hand six months before and
everyone said I’d been putting it on and I was
scared of him. Even the British bookmakers said
I was going to lose the fight. The pride in me
triggered off something else. I thought, ‘There’s
no way I can go into this fight and lose against
Jeff Lacy,’ because if I did it would’ve been the
end of my career. My eight years of being the
WBO Champion would’ve been nothing to me
because people would’ve said I was just an
average champion who didn’t fight anybody.
That fight got everyone to sit up and listen. I’ve
been the real deal for eight years and I’m the
legitimate champion, not the phony champion.
Even the doubters in America finally said, ‘This
guy is the top man.’”
It’s been this absence of appreciation that for
so long has been Calzaghe’s driving force. It
dates back even prior to the Eubank fight,
around the time that British free-to-air TV
stopped screening boxing; Sky Channel picked
it up on pay-per-view just as he fought for his
first world title bout.
“I missed the boat,” Calzaghe says. “You
had champions like Nigel Benn and Chris
Eubank getting TV coverage between six and
ten million viewers, so one fight would make
them a household name overnight. When I
boxed Chris Eubank, it was after midnight. Sky
TV screened to 200,000 sports fans rather than
the general public. For a long time I wasn’t
getting big money fights or the exposure and
recognition I should’ve been. It took me five
or six fights to make what Chris Eubank or
Nigel Benn made in one.”
But times have changed. “Just three or four
years ago, I was fighting in front of a couple
of thousand people at Cardiff ice rink in a
mandatory title defence. Last year, I’m boxing
in front of 50,000-plus at the Millennium
Stadium against Mikkel Kessler at two o’clock
in the morning. It’s mind blowing. I would’ve
never believed it if someone had said to me
I’d be doing that at 35 years old.”
081
Calzaghe describes Kessler as the best boxer
he’s ever fought. That showdown in November 2007
unified the WBO, WBA, WBC and Ring Magazine
Super Middleweight titles. It sent the American
media into overdrive.
Kessler was undefeated in 40 fights. Through his
aggressive thrusts and quick combinations, he was
able to neutralise Calzaghe early in the fight. Until
round seven, which ended with a standing ovation, the
fight could’ve gone either way. Typically, Calzaghe
threw more punches and gradually overpowered his
opponent, winning on a unanimous points decision. In
his ringside interview, from behind a swollen left eye,
the expressionless Dane conceded, “I was surprised
at how much fitness he had. I tried everything I had to
hit him just once but I couldn’t. He’s a difficult boxer.”
“There was a lot of hype surrounding him,” says
Calzaghe, “but he wasn’t as good as what he was
made out to be. But still, he was the WBA and WBC
champion and it’s not often you see two world
champions go into the ring and one just dominate the
other one. We both put on an amazing performance.”
Eubank, Lacy and Kessler – these are Calzaghe’s
proudest moments. Fight fans can only speculate what
would’ve happened had Calzaghe accepted any of the
numerous challenges that aspiring boxers issued to
him over the course of his long reign at the top. One
such challenge came from Anthony Mundine.
Calzaghe’s verdict? “He’s not a bad boxer. He’s
got quite fast hands,” he says. “Considering he got
into boxing late on, he’s done excellent. He’s maybe
in the top six or seven middleweights in the world
… What I can say is that he got beaten comfortably by
Kessler in Australia; then he gave up his title rather
than fight Kessler again. Look at what I did to Kessler
… So what would happen to Mundine? To cut a long
story short, I’d knock him out. He wouldn’t admit
that because he’s got a big mouth, but of course I’d
knock him out. If I couldn’t knock him out, I’d be pretty
disappointed. I mean, Sven Ottke knocked him out
and he couldn’t break an egg.”
With retirement imminent, Joe Calzaghe must now
ponder his future outside the ring. It won’t be too
far outside, however. “I’ll always want to stay
involved with boxing in some way. I’ll get my
promoters license. Maybe I’ll train fighters with
my Dad at the gym. Maybe I’ll do some commentary
work as well. I’ll think about that when I’m retired.
At the moment, I’m training for the fight and I’m
enjoying staying undefeated.”
Although the trainer/boxer relationship he enjoys
with his father is one he takes pride in, he’s not about
to extend it to the next generation. When asked if he’d
get his sons involved in the sport on a serious level, he
gives an abrupt, “No”. “They do a bit of training.
They’re pretty handy. It’s good for them to defend
themselves, keeps them fit, gives them self-discipline.
I believe in introducing boxing to schools – it’s a great
sport. With regards to them taking it up as a
profession, I wouldn’t want that. It’s an unforgiving
sport. There’s so many different sports to choose, but
boxing is the one where you get bashed up.
“I do it so they don’t have to do it. When I was
younger, I wanted to earn money and buy a nice
house. My kids have that, so they don’t need to fight.
I want to make sure they’re well educated.
“When you win you get all the applause – when you
lose it’s the loneliest place in the world.” Will he ever
find out how that feels? We’ll know after November 9. n
082
ROY JONES’ DIARY
Be clear on this: Roy Jones Jr isn’t just
the greatest boxer of the ’90s, he’s one
of the five greatest middleweights in the
history of pugilism. And that’s saying
something given the middleweight
division has traditionally been boxing’s
jewel; a class that’s spawned names
like Monzon, Hagler, Hearns, Robinson,
Greb, Ketchel; a division that’s housed
epic clashes like Hagler-Hearns,
Robinson-LaMotta, Graziano-Zale.
Then there was Jones. He was so
good, he disdained to jab, instead
leading with scything left hooks,
detonating atomic combinations. He
collected four world titles in four
different weight divisions. He schooled
the other greats in his class – Bernard
Hopkins, James Toney, Mike McCallum.
In 2003 he squared up to the WBA
Heavyweight champ John Ruiz, giving
away a mammoth 15kg in weight. Jones
won by unanimous decision – the first
middleweight title holder to win a
heavyweight belt in 106 years.
The man jived on rap albums, carted
guns through airports, played a mean
game of basketball, rolled a chair to
the centre of the ring in the minutes
leading up to his ’96 bout with Eric
Lucas and conducted an impromptu
press conference. He was a gold-plated,
diamante-studded rock star.
But that was a long time ago. The
man’s now 39. Does the bling still
gleam? Three years back he lost twice
to Antonio Tarver and once to journeyman
Glen Johnson. In January this year he
scored a unanimous decision against
an aging and overweight Felix Trinidad.
The old jewels will need a lot more
polish to dazzle Joe Calzaghe.