Boxing

The Beltline: There are many ways to lose in boxing, and sometimes losing feels like winning

By Elliot Worsell


“CAREFUL you don’t cut me,” mentioned Johnny Greaves as his reduce man, Jason Fielding, utilized Vaseline to his face. “I’ve got skin like rice paper.”

If, so far as requests go, that sounds uncommon coming from a boxer in the presence of their reduce man – whose very job it’s to repair cuts, not trigger them – it’s as a result of it’s. However, Johnny Greaves, in 2012, was one of many extra uncommon characters in British boxing, made that approach by the very uncommon nature of his job.

Indeed, Greaves, per the necessities of this job, arrived in Sheffield one summer season evening in 2012 content material to undergo defeat however hoping the defeat would at the least be a very good one. His opponent on the evening was Sam O’Maison (1-0), the combat was scheduled for 4 rounds, and this was to be Greaves’ 89th skilled outing. His short-term objective again then was to survive 12 minutes in the corporate of O’Maison and depart the ring defeated however unscathed, free to combat one other day. His long-term objective, in the meantime, was to make it to 100 skilled fights.

One man who had already achieved that was Kristian Laight from Nuneaton. He was competing in his 138th professional combat that evening in Sheffield and, as is customary with journeymen, was sharing a tiny altering room with each Greaves (3-85) and Ibrar Riyaz (4-35-1). Laight’s objective, by the way in which, was to quickly get to 200.  “I’ll then go work in a factory somewhere,” he instructed Greaves. “I’m only 32; not punchy or anything.”

With his face now coated in Vaseline, Greaves, listening to this whereas sitting down, did not more than rub his nostril and take a look at Laight; half admiration, half disgust. “Nobody will ever get to 300 again, no way,” he then mentioned, referring to Birmingham legend Peter Buckley’s record-breaking achievement in 2008. “Pointless even trying. I’m done at 100. I’m fed up with dieting every week. It gets me down.”

“I feel as good as ever,” mentioned Laight, who will, unbeknown to each, attain and cease at 300 in 2018.

“I feel like I’m 65,” mentioned Greaves. “But aside from that, I’m great.”

The physician appeared in the room at 5.25 pm and, clipboard in hand, was greeted by Greaves as if a good friend he had simply noticed enter their native pub. “Isn’t it terrible,” Greaves mentioned, “when you’re on first-name terms with the doctor?” The physician, laughing, then bent down, grabbed a biro from his pocket, and moved it in direction of the sheet of paper on his clipboard. He cleared his throat in an effort to retain an air of authority and proceeded to ask Greaves, “When did you last box?”

“Last week in Liverpool,” answered Greaves.

“How did you get on?”

“You know how I got on.”

“I know, but we have to ask.”

“Of course you do. Lost on points, sir.”

“Any injuries?”

“Same as last week.”

The physician allowed himself to smile once more. He tapped the boxer on the arm and mentioned, “Good luck, Johnny,” earlier than shifting on to the subsequent acquainted face in a room chock-full of them.

In the meantime, Greaves began hitting pads with Fielding, solely it quickly grew to become clear the reduce man was not reduce out for the duty. Sometimes the pads would simply fall off his palms, whereas different occasions Greaves would both scuff them as a substitute of connecting cleanly, or the pad itself can be held in a place that contradicted the command being known as by the individual in management of it. Frustrated by this, the pair of them, Greaves dropped his head, and Fielding dropped the pads. Fielding then admitted he had by no means earlier than held pads for a southpaw, to which Greaves mentioned, “A good time to find out. Thanks.”

Interestingly, Greaves and the opposite journeymen would develop as nervous because the headliners in these remaining moments earlier than a combat. Their hearts raced simply the identical and their conversations and fuses grew to become progressively shorter as the primary bell neared. Though their objective was in fact totally different, and distinctive to them, the feelings skilled in the trouble to obtain this objective had been one and the identical.

Which is to say, Greaves wasn’t nervous that evening as a result of he may lose. He was nervous as a result of he needed to lose the best approach and as a result of losing, in this enterprise, isn’t simply black and white. There are as a substitute shades to it; good losses and dangerous ones.

Johnny Greaves lets the punches fly (Getty Images)

“That was never a f**king knockdown!” Greaves would later moan whereas having his gloves eliminated by Fielding. “I slipped, that was all. Couldn’t believe it when the ref gave it.”

To the shock of nobody Greaves had lasted the gap however misplaced each one of many 4 rounds; that means, in the grand scheme of issues, the knockdown and explanation for his fury was largely inconsequential. It meant a five-point edge in O’Maison’s favour, as opposed to the routine 4, however that wasn’t the problem so far as Greaves was involved. What he hated in regards to the referee’s name was the way it dented each his pleasure and his popularity as a person not often off his ft.

“It was okay, though, wasn’t it, Jase?” he requested.

“Yes, mate, couldn’t have gone any better,” replied Fielding.

“Ed?”

“Proud of you, mate,” mentioned Ed Muscat, the opposite man in Greaves’ nook, busy tidying up.

“Went all right, didn’t it?” Greaves then requested me, his face childlike, as if my opinion mattered.

“You did what you set out to do,” I mentioned. “Well done.”

Insecurity is in fact a pure by-product of losing so usually; so usually that it turns into the anticipated consequence. However, it was nonetheless startling to hear how desperately Greaves craved validation in that second, significantly when, to him and these round him, this was an evening simply like another. Perhaps, having grown so accustomed to losing, he discovered it troublesome to differentiate the great and the dangerous. Or maybe, given his thankless function in the game, reward and platitudes, and even simply form phrases, had been issues he had to actively pursue slightly than assume would come his approach following the completion of a combat, as can be the case for somebody like Kell Brook, for instance, the evening’s headliner.

To consider it in these phrases made me unhappy, particularly when contemplating the very fact Greaves’ most important ambition, above and past going the gap and staying secure, was to entertain the followers and please those that had been watching him. If leaving a venue with their approval, whether or not arriving through applause or reward, it was, Greaves mentioned, all the time adequate for him.

“Wasn’t too messy, was it?” he requested, neglecting a bathe to step again into the sector and watch bout quantity three.

“No,” I mentioned. “Not at all.”

“Thanks, mate,” he replied; weight lifted, job finished.


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