Читать книгу Anthony Joshua - King of the Ring - Frank Worrall - Страница 9

It was a normal, dull, wet yet mild October Sunday in Watford, a town roughly 20 miles north-west of London. Some locals headed out for normal, dull, yet mild outings, including trips to the town’s DIY stores and food supermarkets or, if time permitted, garden centres. Others preferred the sanctuary of home and the likes of EastEnders or the golf from Wentworth on the telly, while still more enjoyed a brisk walk with the dog and a relaxing pint down the local boozer. But for Yeta Odusanya, 15 October 1989, would be a day like no other – for it was the day she gave birth to a boy who, against all odds, would become one of the most famous people in her adopted homeland, respected and loved in equal measure for his gentle personality yet fierce boxing spirit.

Yeta, a social worker who came to Britain from Nigeria in the 1990s, cried tears of joy as she held Anthony Oluwafemi Olaseni Joshua in her arms that day. His father, Robert, who is half-Nigerian, half-Irish, was also thrilled that he had another son. The happy parents had arrived in Watford from Nigeria while in their early 20s and also had another son and two daughters. When Yeta took Anthony home to the council flat where they lived on Watford’s tough Meriden estate, she would dance around the living room with him in her arms as the radio blasted out Lisa Stansfield’s ‘All Around The World’ or the Rebel MC’s hip-hop classic ‘Street Tuff’.

She would show him off to friends who commented that he was a ‘lovable, big, chunky baby, who always had a smile for you’. His parents split up, reportedly when he was four or five, and he continued to live with mum Yeta, who witnessed his growth spurts and continual demands for more food! In one famous picture, in his high chair at home, he is seen demolishing two large bowls packed with mashed potatoes and spinach. He was 18 months old, but could have passed for double his age, such was his size.

The boy was strong as well as big and soon graduated from his high chair to running around the flat and then playing outside with other youngsters. Back then, he was known as Femi rather than Anthony, and by the age of five or six loved playing football and having rough-and-tumbles with his cousin, Ben Ileyemi, who would also go on to be a fine boxer; indeed, he would become the man who introduced AJ to the fight game that would transform both their lives. ‘He was always active,’ Ben would later recall. ‘He was always playing football or whatever. We used to scrap and I would get the better of him. Things have changed. We were messing around a couple of years ago and he hit me in the ribs. I never actually told him at the time but I was in pain for about four days. Imagine taking a scaffolding pole and wrapping a pillowcase on the end, then getting wacked with it. That’s what it is like. But back then he was just a big lad who wanted to be outside.’

In the year 2000, Anthony’s steady life in Watford was shattered when Yeta decided to return to Nigeria. She felt it would benefit her son who, aged 11, had allegedly started drinking and getting into trouble on the estate. He was enrolled in a boarding school in Nigeria, but did not enjoy the stay one bit, leaving after only one term. No wonder, really, for he was forced to fetch water every morning at 5.30 a.m. Sure, there is something to be said for enforcing discipline, but that went way beyond the norm. It was bullying. He would later say of his time at the school, ‘Sometimes the whole block would just get punished. It might be the cane, or you would have to squat and hold it for 30 minutes. We got beaten, but that’s my culture, beating.’

Yeta now had another decision to make. Anthony had clearly been unhappy with his new life in Nigeria and she opted to return with him to Watford. He was now enrolled in Kings Langley School in the town, and felt much more at home and happy, especially as he quickly excelled in sport. Anthony would hold the Year 9 record of 11.6 seconds in the 100 metres race and even nowadays his record of running the 400m in a minute in Year 8, when he was 12, still stands.

He was also an extremely talented footballer and even went for a trial with Charlton Athletic. Yet any dreams of a career in the beautiful game, where he was excelling as a centre-forward, ended abruptly when he attacked an opponent who had been teasing him. A formal complaint to the police was made, as a result of which Anthony, aged 16, received a warning as to his future conduct. He had grabbed the rival by the neck, hauled him above his shoulder and then let him drop to the ground.

It was a worrying period of Anthony’s life, especially for his mum who had such big dreams for her big boy. She knew he had a heart of gold and just needed some direction in his life – if he had a target he was more than capable of going for it with total dedication. But his tendency towards violence, which would stand him in good stead in the boxing ring, was unfortunately earning him a reputation as a lad who was a hothead with an uncontrollable temper. He was mixing in the wrong circles and seemed to be going nowhere – except maybe prison if he did not heed that warning.

Anthony appeared out of control, he did not heed the warning and it did not help that when mum Yeta upped sticks for Golders Green, North London, he decided to stay put in Watford. He was 16 and alone in a town where he had already been in trouble and where he seemed to be drifting towards more difficulties. He stayed with friends and in hostels and his lifestyle was the exact opposite of the clean-living, disciplined approach he would adopt when he became a professional boxer. He smoked, drank, partied and lived on the edge as part of a reckless gang in the town. Anthony hit a new low the following year, when a street fight brought him to another brush with the law and a brief spell in Reading jail. The prison had, in previous times, held the author and wit Oscar Wilde, but AJ’s incarceration was nothing to write home about. He was 17 and, by his own account, spent two weeks on remand for ‘fighting and other stuff’.

As with the incident a year earlier, fate shone compassionately on him, for he had feared he might end up with a prison sentence. One consequence was that he was fitted with an electronic tag, which he would have to wear for a year. But redemption was rearing its head. In a moment of clarity, he realised living in Watford and being in a gang was not conducive to a better life. He had been banned from Watford town centre, so was limited anyway as to what he could do at night, and where he could go. As with most towns in England, the centre of Watford was where his mates congregated and where the main ‘action’ was. So he left the town for good and went to live with his mum in Golders Green. It was a new start and it would open a window to a new life – in the boxing world.

His cousin Ben Ileyemi lived in the vicinity and was well aware of the problems his wayward relative had encountered. He himself had prospered through the discipline that joining a local amateur boxing club had brought and he reckoned it would benefit Anthony, too. So he persuaded AJ to go with him to Finchley and District Amateur Boxing Club and Anthony was intrigued and excited by what he found. He then famously borrowed some money from Ben to buy some boxing boots and started to learn the ropes of the sport. Finally, he had found something that he was not only good at, but that also he wanted wholeheartedly to commit to. ‘I started reading because I learned that so many champions educated themselves. Joe Louis, Mike Tyson, Bernard Hopkins,’ he would tell the Guardian in 2015. ‘Before it was “act now, think later” – but the discipline and reading changed me.’

Anthony was working hard to change. He had started working as a bricklayer and attended the boxing club every night. He was determined to make it in the fight game but knew he needed an income, so worked whenever he could as a brickie. He was being responsible and trying to turn his life around. The club’s trainers, led by the inimitable Sean Murphy, were impressed by how AJ buckled down and that he was so eager to listen and learn. They knew he had the brute strength to progress and that he would be hard to beat. But he was a rough diamond and had to be taught when to throw a punch, and when to defend, when to jab and when to go in for the kill. As a teenager he had got into trouble because he acted without thinking, but now he was learning fast that to survive and thrive as a boxer you needed much more than simple aggression. That would get you so far, but it would not work against boxers who were just as strong but far more streetwise.

That was why he was willing to take in what Sean had to say and why he was studying tapes of the greatest professional champions. His aim was not simply to be a good boxer; he was a perfectionist, so it was important to be the best. As his life changed, so did his self-esteem and character. After a few years off the rails, he once again became the lovable boy who could charm anyone, much to his mother’s obvious delight.

Yeta was pleased to see him so committed to his boxing and that he finally had a target to aim for, and that he was happy doing something he loved. Sure, she worried about him getting hurt in the ring, but she knew that he was as strong as an ox and that he could look after himself. Her anxiety would be one of the reasons he never allowed her to watch him fight as he progressed up the ranks. He felt it could affect his own performance if he, in turn, was worried about how his mum was reacting ringside.

Over the years he had become very close to her and she would remain the most important person in his life as he climbed ever higher up the boxing rankings. He trusted her and knew she always had his best interests at heart. He was a mum’s boy and would always try to repay her for the efforts she had put into bringing him up alone. He owed her, and when he finally made some money as a pro he would buy her the Golders Green flat. Even when he became world champion, he would go back to living with her in the flat. It was very touching and emphasised just how much loyalty meant to Anthony Joshua. His mum had been the one person who had always stuck by him, through thick and thin, and he would always remember that and be grateful to her.

The boxing was going well, the bricklaying not as well. Anthony had taken on a few bouts and won them convincingly (apart from the infamous one that saw his most bitter rival Dillian Whyte beat him). He was learning how to pace himself and how to defend. He already knew how to punch hard but was told by his trainer not to punch himself out too quickly, as he risked being fatigued within a couple of rounds. That did not stop him regularly going for the quick knockout and would, some critics contend, leave him open to precisely the problem Sean Murphy had warned him about: getting too tired too quickly (in some of his latter-day pro fights, those concerns would become real when his bouts went beyond two rounds, although he would deal with them by coming back strong after drawing breath).

His aim was to make the GB squad and compete in international tournaments. The 2012 Olympics would be in London – and what bigger dream was there than that for a lad like Anthony Joshua? He knew it would be hard work but he was, as always, totally confident in himself and his ability. But first he had to keep on winning at club level: that way he would get himself known to the selectors and become a realistic contender. He did keep winning and the selectors did take note, eventually adding his name to their squad. By 2010 he was making such progress that his name was now being touted as a real possibility for the Olympics.

Then, just as everything was going well and the future was looking bright, Anthony typically shot himself in the foot with another act of self-sabotage. After all the advances in his career and life, he still could not shake off the past completely. In 2011, he was pulled up by police for speeding in his car and they found 8 ounces of cannabis in his bag. He was charged with possession of the drug but wrongly also charged with intent to supply a Class B drug. Anthony received a 12-month community order and was ordered to carry out 100 hours of unpaid work. He pleaded guilty to possession of cannabis and was suspended from boxing.

He was not a household name, or even an easily recognisable sporting figure, but the police had no problem in identifying him – as he was wearing his GB boxing tracksuit at the time of his arrest. It seriously looked as if he might now walk away from boxing and return to Watford and the gang life. But something pulled him back from the edge – maybe the love he had for his mother, whom he desperately did not want to hurt any further after the way she had continually supported him, and also the respect he had for his coaches up at Finchley. Sean Murphy’s fellow trainer at the club, John Oliver, explained how AJ didn’t throw it all away in a moment of further madness. He told the Daily Mail, ‘Sean and I took him aside so many times to tell him to give up whatever he was doing out there. That last one, though, was the real wake-up call. He was doing his community service in North Finchley, on an allotment next to my house. I used to sit with him in my car when he was done and talk about what he was doing with his life. The way he responded to what happened, I couldn’t be prouder.’

The penny had finally dropped. This would be the final indiscretion. Anthony realised he was in the last-chance saloon – if he could survive this and get his boxing career on track he vowed to his mother and to his trainers that he would never let them, or himself, down again. He had been lucky to come through his two earlier brushes with the law; now he was hoping and praying for a third chance. If he did not get it, he could possibly have returned to his old ways, but fortune favoured him once again.

Team GB believed in him and decided to give him another chance, even as he was doing his community-order work. He was chosen to take part in the European championships and duly reached the quarter-finals. He admitted that the call-up was a big turning point, telling The Times, ‘They had banned me from all boxing internationally and domestically for my club. I thought I’m done with boxing. So I went back to Watford and started hanging around with my mates. But that’s when GB Boxing called me up and asked if I want to go to the Europeans. They said, “We’re still looking into your case …” So I had a week’s training and then lost in the quarter-finals.

‘It was a turning point. Before the world championships I said, “Man, I have to change. I have an opportunity with boxing that I believe in. I am going to focus all my energies in boxing.” I was 21 and I’d had my share of problems,’ he said, referring to his earlier encounters with the law.

Anthony won silver at the World Championships, a feat that earned him a place in Team GB’s boxing squad for the 2012 Olympics. That silver win not only changed AJ’s life, it saved it, according to his promoter, Eddie Hearn, ‘That was a big turning point for him,’ Eddie would tell the Daily Telegraph. ‘Look, he’s a bad guy trying to be good. And he needs to be a bad boy, and retain that to get to where he wants to be in the ring. But boxing has saved his life. He’s a pure example of it. It’s given him discipline, a focus for that huge physique and desire to fight.’

Now there would be no turning back to the lifestyle that had left Anthony on the brink of criminality. He was heading to the very top and would even be predicted to become boxing’s first billionaire. But first he had to negotiate the amateurs, and then hopefully star for his country at the London Olympics. He was finally on the right track, but a hell of a lot of work lay ahead if he was to fulfil his remarkable potential, and even one day justify entering Wembley Apollo Creed-style for a date with boxing’s real-life Ivan Drago …