FROM CONVICT TO CHAMPION

At certain times, this boxing caper can be a delightfully unpredictable distraction.

It’s late July. Having exhausted the patience of EBU mandatory contender Bobby Vanzie, Italian promotional unit OPI 2000 are desperately seeking a short-notice sacrifice for their flagship fighter, Sandro Casamonica, for the vacant EBU lightweight title.

Romford hustler Barry Hearn might know just the boyo: ex-con out of Maesteg, name of Cook, fresh out of jail, light on readies, teak-tough but low risk. Third-choice sub, an 11–1 longshot, just nine days’ notice. Done deal.

Fast forward to round three — victim prostrate, referee’s count an irrelevance. Where’s that script? Out of the window.

“The winner and new European lightweight champion … From Maesteg, Wales … Jason ‘The Power’ Cook.”

Talk about upending expectations.

After bustling to three educative but unspectacular wins earlier this year, the copper-topped Cook had begun tapering down his training regime for the season when John Wischusen of Matchroom sprang the unexpected news.

Such opportunities do not present themselves often in one lifetime, but the odds were still stacked against him.

“I had eight days to get rid of a stone,” discloses the unpretentious new champ, who was still walking on air when we spoke in early September.

“Though I only took five days off after my last match in late June, I’d taken my foot off the gas. I was just ticking over with one session a day when I got the news.

“I got the weight off through sheer hard training, three sessions a day, no saunas, but everything was geared to sweating off weight rather than focusing on a strategy. I had no sparring of any description.

“To make matters worse, I picked up a niggling little groin injury which prevented me from doing any roadwork.

“However, three days before the fight, I had a check weigh-in in Britain. I was 9st 111/2lbs [1371/2lbs] so got the all clear to travel. 

“On top of the short notice, a further two training days were disrupted by having to travel to London, firstly for a brain scan, then to have my heart rate monitored and a chest x-ray.”

“The tapes I received of Casamonica were so old as to be almost worthless. 

“The most recent was his European title challenge to Billy Schwer [an eighth-round loss in May 1999]. That tape gave me confidence because he seemed very open to a right hand. 

Though the fight is yet to feature on British TV, a local recording sent courtesy of John Wischusen shows that the rolling, grunting Welshman drew much profit from heavy left jabs and hooks, silencing the baying locals and claiming the first two rounds on all cards.

However, about 40 seconds into round three, Cook voluntarily subsided to his knees after getting swamped in a fusillade of close-range, short-arm hooks and uppercuts from the 32-year-old gypsy.

Showing laudable composure, Cook immediately focused on his corner prior to rising at seven. With his head still spinning, he resorted to the deft footwork honed in his glittering 10-year amateur career and somehow withstood the ensuing hurricane.

Just as his bold challenge appeared it might falter, Cook the Hook launched a fist of clenched thunder and what had gone before was wiped out in a trice.

“Being quite tall, I’ve a beautiful jab, but I’ve always been a fighter,” confesses the new champion.

“I knew I’d have to win all the rounds convincingly to have any chance of winning a decision so I took it to him, put him on the back foot. Though he was open to a right hand, I was wary of throwing mine because I’ve fractured it twice in the past.

“Suddenly, he tagged me with some little counters which had me groggy and I dropped for a respite. When I got up, he came at me like a train, clipped me with a few elbows and, knowing there was no three-knockdown rule, I was very tempted to take another count.

“After missing with a wild, desperate right, I stumbled into the ropes and he caught me with seven solid unanswered shots. Then, just as he went to throw a right hand, I got in first — boom. Over!

“I guess we’ll never know if I could’ve lasted the distance.”

The giantkilling of Casamonica represented only the seventh early ending of Cook’s 19-fight professional life (17–1–1), but his power is no secret to aficionados who followed his amateur career.

Starting out in the summer of 1986, the young asthmatic trailed brother Chris to the Maesteg amateur club, 30-odd miles west of Cardiff, where he was coached for almost a decade by Brian Evans, a paternal figure throughout his life.

From modest beginnings, he blossomed into a world-rated amateur talent, snaring eight Welsh titles (four at senior level), the 1993 British ABA featherweight crown, a 1994 Commonwealth Games silver medal and assorted multi-nations hardware, notably back-to-back golds at the prestigious Acropolis Cup meet in Athens in 1993 and 1994.

“Starting as a school kid, I was always in wars. Win one, lose one. But I got addicted,” says Cook, who was pipped for an Atlanta Olympic berth in a box-off to a Belarusian he’d previously beaten. 

“Once I turned senior, I was capable of turning fights with one punch, usually to the body. In the season, when I won the British ABA title, at 18, I won all 13 contests and only Alex Moon [the future Commonwealth feather champion] took me the full three rounds.”

It is now almost six years since he turned pro (with Matchroom chief Barry Hearn), but advancement through the professional ranks proved painstakingly slow and he all but faded to obscurity.

“Perhaps I could’ve been moved on a bit quicker,” says Cookie, whose previous career high spots were a brace of low-key Welsh light-welter wins and a three-round technical decision over ex-European challenger Andrei Sinepupov. 

“In my second pro fight, I badly damaged my wrist, which set me back six months. Then, 18 months later, I ‘hung ‘em up’ for nine months after losing to Trevor Smith [he was stopped in the first by the Birmingham journeyman].” 

“When I returned under my old amateur coach [Evans], it was like starting back from scratch.

“After half-a-dozen wins, I cracked my knuckle in a Welsh title fight against Keith Jones [winning on points in May 2000], then knackered it again with the first punch of my next fight five months later.

“I’d paid my dues and, after beating Darius Snarski in Poland, I think I’d earned a shot at a title.”

Twice, last spring, proposed Commonwealth challenges collapsed. But, with his career at the crossroads, his whole life went pear shaped when, to the astonishment of all who knew him, he became embroiled in a fraudulent credit-card ring that cost him his job and eight months of his liberty.

“Big mistake”, concedes the contrite Cook, who served five-and-a-half months in prison (in Pontypool). 

“Though it’s the only trouble I’ve ever been in, I knew that I was going to get a custodial sentence.

“Obviously, it was very difficult having to tell people what I’d done but Brian Evans was very supportive and Barry Hearn was a real rock.

“I wrote to him from prison, pleading with him to stick by me, though I’d have fully understood if he hadn’t.

“I was in a bit of difficulty and could’ve lost my house, but Barry sent me £600 straight away to sort the mortgage out.

“I’ve also got to mention Stevie Hoyer [coach at the St Pancras gym in London] who regularly wrote and sent money.”

Devoid of distractions, he manipulated his position as gym orderly to his advantage and returned to the outside world in tip-top physical shape.

“Every morning, I’d go for a little run with one of the officers, Martin Bevan, and was granted use of a punch bag because boxing was my job,” he discloses.

“One of the other inmates was an amateur trainer. I don’t want to embarrass him by mentioning his name, but he helped me with a bit of pads. I also did my stomach work, shadow boxing, skipping and circuits. I started a bit of weights but put on a stone so I stopped that.

“I also played sweeper for the prison footie team. Out of the ten games I played in, we won eight and drew one. Upon release, I did no training for three or four weeks because I needed to make up for lost time and have a bit of fun.

“But, at first, it was very tough. I had no confidence. It’s still not fully restored.”

Out of handcuffs and back into handwraps, he immersed himself completely into rebuilding his life, step by unsteady step. He acknowledges the debt he owes to Hearn, not only for his loyalty but also for the regular work put his way. With the recent ascent of himself and Liverpool’s Commonwealth king David Burke to the mix of established domestic practitioners such as Dunne, Vanzie, Ayres, Murray and Thaxton, the ingredients are in place for him to speculate about a lucrative future. 

“My goal had always been to win a Lonsdale Belt outright but, at 27, I’m getting on a bit and can’t see it happening unless I get a setback.”

“This European is a far better belt to have than those minor world titles, the WBU or IBO, and I intend to earn some money out of it and pay my house off.

“If I can make three or four defences, and get some experience, I’m still young enough to challenge for a proper world title. How about Floyd Mayweather in Las Vegas?”