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April 2002
Each month we bring you a selection of articles from the current and past issues of BOXING MONTHLY. To buy the magazine, see our subscription or back issues pages, or use our world distribution map to find a news-stand copy. Why not use our Interactive Forum to express your own boxing comments and opinions!
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NEXT BIG THING The reconstruction of Danny Williams continues and the South Londoner, particularly now that he enjoys the support of Don King and the BBC, is starting to look like the natural successor to Lennox Lewis. ANTHONY EVANS reports |
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WILLIAMS found a warm welcome in America - until potential rivals realised that here was a British heavyweight who could actually fight
- Get Big Pic A At 6ft 2ins and 18st-plus, the 28-year-old with a 26-1 (22 early) record, who is fast enough to record professional-level times on the running track, certainly appears to be a 21st-century heavyweight rather than one of the horizontal British big men of yesteryear. Indeed, one of the reasons King signed the Brixton boxer — aside from getting his foot in the door to sell his shows to the BBC and Sky — was Williams’s very American style. But, despite his honesty in interviews, the current holder of the British and Commonwealth belts remains something of an enigma and, in the ring, equally capable of blowing hot or cold. Just how good is Williams and just how far can he go? Williams turned professional in 1995 after a promising rather than prolific amateur career. With a European medal and World Championship experience, the South Londoner’s 29-6 unpaid career indicated he was worth some investment, although an early exit from the World Championships cooled the bidding war. After signing with Frank Warren, he was kept busy and, in November 1996, was matched with Michael Murray in only his seventh professional fight. Murray has been something of a bane of the British division and, six years on, the Manchester stalwart is still considered a decent yardstick with which to gauge domestic talent. Fighting on a Sky Box Office pay-per-view at the huge MEN Arena, Manchester, and sandwiched between a Naseem Hamed bout and the rematch between Steve Collins and Nigel Benn, it was the first real test, not only of Williams’s ring ability but also the spotlight-shy fighter’s mental strength. "I was anxious because I’d only had six fights and he’d fought for the British title and beaten Derek Williams and Julius Francis," recalled Williams. "But I dropped him with a right. I thought then it was all over but he got up and, being a bit nervous, I didn’t want him to get back into the fight so I jumped on him." One left hook later and the Brixton boxer had scored his first significant win, but his natural punching power obscured the fact he was being stalked by self-doubt. Williams is an open, friendly guy, but that’s not to say he’s uncomplicated. Williams admitted: "I used to get so nervous I would hardly be able to eat. Or sometimes I’d burst into tears because of the pressure. Once I was at some traffic lights and I couldn’t stop the tears and had to pretend something was in my eye as people walked passed. Oh, man, it was embarrassing. "It’s all because of my own expectations of myself. Since I was a boy I’ve been told I’m going to be heavyweight champion of the world. I want that so badly [that] when I think something is messing it up I get so upset I’ve smashed stuff up at home thinking about it. I know I’ve got the talent to win the world title, and I see it [like a] responsibility not to waste what I’ve been given." It’s a responsibility Williams had shouldered for a long time. Danny’s father, Augustus, dreamt his third son would win the richest prize in sport long before Williams was born. "My dad never sent my two older brothers to the gym, but he made me go from the age of eight," he said. "Before that, he was taking me on the pads in the front room. One of the first things I can remember is my dad telling me I was a future heavyweight champion of the world." By the time of his first contest (aged 14), Williams shared his father’s dream. "I knew I was talented," he says. "I think I could have done better in school if I’d tried, but I had it in my head I was going to be a millionaire through boxing." His career was progressing well until, in his 16th bout, a lack of focus resulted in a lacklustre challenge to British champion Julius Francis in April 1999. Although the 12 rounds were exciting, Williams, who’d looked for single shots all night, sold himself short. It was a massive setback. A harsh self critic, Williams was furious with himself and, desperate to improve, flew to New York with trainer Jim McDonnell to spar at Gleason’s Gym. By all accounts, Williams was a revelation, easily handling in-form contender Oleg Maskaev and impressing the New York fight fraternity. Upon returning to the UK, Williams picked up the vacant Commonwealth belt by outpointing Harry Senior at short notice and then scored four stoppages over stock opposition before being scheduled to box Mark Potter for the then vacant British title in October 2000. Williams believed things were moving in the right direction again, but, several days before the bout, he came down with flu. "I just didn’t know what to do," he recalled. "The Francis loss had hurt my standing in boxing and I knew if I pulled out I might not get another chance for a long time. But, on the other hand, I was feeling so sick. I prayed and asked God what I should do." A convert to the Islamic faith, Williams believed he got his answer and went ahead with the Wembley bout. It proved to be the making of him. After a frenzied Potter won the opening round, Williams missed with a right cross and his arm popped out of its socket. Yet, while fighters such as Carl Thompson and Vitali Klitschko have justifiably retired from fights having suffered similar injuries, Williams did not. After assuring McDonnell he could go on, Williams fought on with the use of just one arm. While the referee let the bout go on, many ringsiders begged Williams to quit. But, despite the searing pain, Williams began working his jab — two defeats at British level would have ruined his world-title aspirations, and Williams knew it. "I remember thinking: ‘God, you wanted me to take this fight so, please, help me.’" By round six, Williams’s shoulder was grossly contorted and the fighter was unable to lift his right glove much above waist height. Potter, egged on by his North London fans, was coming forward relentlessly until a left-hand smash left him semi-conscious on the canvas. "I couldn’t believe it when he went down after I hit him with that left," said Williams. "I’ve watched the fight on tape and you can actually see my eyebrows lift up as he hit the canvas. I was totally shocked. I never thought I would knock him out with my right arm like it was." Incredibly, Williams’s masterplan after the injury struck had been to outpoint Potter. "I know how that sounds now, but that’s what I had in my head to do. I thought I was doing OK with the jab and was just kinda hoping my left arm would work its way back into place." Potter got up, twice, but Williams would not be denied. Within seconds of the bout’s unforgettable conclusion, the new champion was screaming in agony as paramedics taped his arm to his side. "I give a lot of credit to my trainer because, in many ways, Jimmy was as brave as me," said Williams. "His career was on the line when he made the call to let me fight on. Remember, I was getting battered all over the place when I had two good arms, so you’d think I would get knocked with only one. If that had happened, Jimmy’s credibility would have been destroyed, so I thank him for having so much faith in me." The experience was an epiphany for Williams. "It was the turning point for me, definitely," he said. "I think a lot of other incidents — being forced to go back down a level after losing to Julius, bashing up Maskaev in sparring — they all helped, but the Potter fight made me believe 100% in myself. "It also made a few critics believe in me as well and a few boxing people have said, while I’m still the same guy, I’m so much more confident now. That fight definitely changed me." More change followed. After undergoing surgery and extensive rehabilitation with Gary Lewin, the specialist who works with Arsenal FC, Williams returned eight months later to blast out the touted Antipodean Kali Meehan in one round. That Commonwealth defence was followed a month later by a four-round revenge win over Francis, which concluded the champion’s existing contract with Warren’s Sports Network organisation. Williams and Warren had grown close and, initially, Williams was keen to continue his relationship with Sports Network. "I wanted to continue with Frank, but what he put on the table was not exactly what I was looking for, so I spoke with other people. The deals offered by Panos [Eliades] and the BBC absolutely smashed [Warren’s original offer]. Then Frank came back with an excellent deal himself, but the BBC really wanted me and Ben Anderson [the BBC’s boxing advisor] was really pushing for me to join the BBC. "I really wanted to box on the BBC, too. The audiences they get are counted in millions whereas Sky’s are only counted in thousands. I knew the BBC would make me the bigger star." At one point, Williams’s ideal scenario was to continue to be promoted by Sports Network while boxing on the BBC, but Warren’s contractual obligation to Sky rendered that impossible. As negotiations progressed, dealings between Williams and Warren became strained. Eventually, the fighter walked. He considered signing with Panix Promotions before the BBC made Williams an offer he couldn’t refuse. However, Warren hasn’t survived as top dog on the British block by backing down, and, when he used the threat of legal action in his stare down with the inexperienced BBC, the Beeb blinked. In confusion lies opportunity and into the breech stepped Don King. While in London to promote the Hasim Rahman-Lennox Lewis return, the shock-haired 72-year-old also found time to see some of the sights and sign two of Britain’s more talented contenders. First middleweight Howard Eastman was landed, then, after a lengthy courtship, King inked Williams. "I got a call saying [that] Don wanted to meet me in a London restaurant. Actually, we went out for lobster four or five times before we even mentioned business. He was giving me Shakespeare [quotes] instead and we were laughing and joking. I think that was to show me he was a nice guy despite his rep but, really, I understand you don’t reach the top of any business by being a nice guy. "On the fifth day, he invited me and my lawyer to his hotel suite and said: ‘I’m going to make you a massive star. I’ll show these guys in England how you promote a talented heavyweight.’ So we came up with a deal." King then cut a deal with the BBC. The corporation declared itself delighted with viewing figures for Williams’s first two bouts on the network, a second-round obliteration of Toughman graduate Shawn Robinson on the Holyfield-Ruiz III card last December and February’s British defence against Michael Sprott. While the latter, which attracted 3.2 million viewers despite being shown on a 90-minute delay, leaves Williams requiring only a single defence to keep his British belt for life, the Robinson victory in New England was the more important for his career. "Before I fought, all the Americans, even the fighters like Hasim Rahman, Fres Oquendo and GOOFi Whitaker, were really nice to me," said Williams. "Then they saw me fight in a style that they weren’t expecting from a British heavyweight — one who moves side to side and throws three uppercuts on the trot. Their opinion changed. The media suddenly wanted to talk to me and the fighters, who were really friendly the day before, suddenly didn’t want to speak to me. "I took that as a good sign. In their eyes, I’d gone from just being some guy from England to being a potential rival." Williams’s brief excursion in New England didn’t make him a star in the U.S., but at least it introduced him as a peripheral contender. Several American writers, who probably knew more about Robbie Williams than Danny Williams, were mentioning him in their columns. Not scrapbook material, but a start. King has summoned Williams to his Florida home to discuss the quest for the heavyweight title. King is also likely to request that his fighter trains in the U.S., where quality sparring is in greater supply. With Lewis, Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield all in the latter stages of their respective careers, the division is likely to be wide open 12 months down the line. Williams believes it will come down to the Klitschko brothers, Jameel McCline, perhaps Kirk Johnson — and himself. "I don’t rate [WBA champ] John Ruiz," Williams stated. "He tries but is very ordinary. Fres Oquendo is too small for me, David Tua has lost it and, really, there’s no one else. "The fight I really wanted was Hasim Rahman. I’d knock him out. I’m bigger, stronger, faster and have more skills than him. He’s just got a right hand. I’m hoping Rahman’s fight with Holyfield falls through because knocking him out would be a great way to establish myself in America. Accepting that, for many Americans, the idea of a British presence in the heavyweight division is still peculiar, Williams just wants the chance to prove himself. "If the fight with Rahman doesn’t happen, I’d love to fight McCall, Michael Moorer, any of the top Americans." Williams’s whole career has been about proving something; but after resoundingly convincing the guy who secretly doubted him for a decade, namely Williams himself, he feels the rest of the world will be far easier to convert. |
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