SIBLING ARRIVAL

Despite a four-inch height advantage, promotional up-and-comer Eugene Maloney has struggled for 46 years to break free from the shadow of elder brother and erstwhile business sidekick Frank, famously the former the long-term managerial consultant for world heavyweight champion Lennox Lewis.
A feisty, ticket-shifting former bantam-cum-featherweight, the younger Maloney brother — a real Del Trotter type from the murky backstreets of Peckham, South London — has turned a few heads since going solo 20 months back.

But while Maloney’s blue-collar Sunday afternoon bashes at the earthy and atmospheric Elephant and Castle Leisure Centre have drawn immense trade acclaim, they also made a sizeable dent in his overdraft. 
"I used to say a few Hail Mary’s every night, but it never worked so I gave up on that one!" he said.
But Maloney’s prayers may have been answered by leading amateur heavyweight David Haye’s decision to employ the promoter’s services. With the World Championships silver medallist comes guaranteed BBC TV coverage and significant financial benefits.

In late August, just prior to the inking of the Haye deal, Boxing Monthly dropped by the promoter’s HQ, the Maloney Fight Factory in Bermondsey, and met a bubbly, upbeat traditionalist, and staunch advocate of a "back to basics" approach to moving our sport forward. 

BM: What are your memories of early life as Frank Maloney’s kid brother? 
EM: Though Frank’s five years older than me [Eugene is 46], I was the natural fighter. Frank’s chat regularly got him into trouble and I’d need to bale him out. When I was about 12 we started out at the Trinity amateur boxing club, run by Billy and Mickey Kingwell, down the Old Kent Road then moved to the Hollington club.

I weren’t bad, as it happens, probably won about 40 of 60 amateur contests and once boxed the ears off a kid called Kevin Maloney in a London schools final yet the ref gave the decision to the other Maloney. To this day I’m sure they made a terrible ricket! I once bashed the life out of Duke McKenzie for two rounds at the Radical Club on Albany Road, then started to show off and got buried in the third.

Another time, I remember Pat Doherty [the future Commonwealth lightweight 
Champion] broke my nose in the South East London Div’s final.
Eventually Frank said: "I’ve had enough of trophies, let’s earn some money," so he signed me up with Frank Warren, while he opted to learn the game outside the ropes. He never did like getting hit so used his younger brother as a guinea pig!

BM: An examination of the reports of your nine-fight pro career [Oct 81-Sept 88] suggests you could be a dirty little bugger!

EM: That’s a fact, yeah. On my debut at the Bloomsbury Crest Hotel, my opponent Steve Reilly, a veteran from Newport, was really abusive verbally and I kept looking at the ref expecting him to sling him out for "ungentlemanly conduct", as they did in the amateurs. When I told Ernie Fossey and our Frank in the corner they said: "This is the pros, just fucking do it back." After that I began to enjoy myself.

My best memory of being a bit naughty came against Miguel Matthews [the armour-coated Welsh centurion], who was just a novice at the time.

I hadn’t been near a gym for about 16 months and was weighing well over 
13 stone when my brother told me to get myself ready for his show in six weeks time!

Though I got down to 9st 1lb, by the fifth round I needed an oxygen mask and Miguel, who’s a cracking kid, was belting seven shades out of me. Suddenly, I felt I was going to "go", so I spat my gumshield out, put me arm around his neck and took [bit] a chunk out of him! When he complained to the ref I cracked him on the beak! At the end the ref put both our hands up, which I thoroughly deserved as I’d sold over five and a half grand’s worth of tickets! 
I was earning good money outside the ring as a buyer and seller from a very early age but I just enjoyed fighting.
BM: Despite holding various pro licences since 1981, you served a relatively low key apprenticeship in Frank’s shadow before taking the plunge into promoting yourself in February 2001.

EM: Some people seem to be under the impression that I’m someone who popped into the game from nowhere, but I’ve been working my bollocks off, 20 hours a day, seven days a week, for years and years.

When I retired as a pro, Frank sorted me out with a job as head of security for Lennox Lewis. Given his size, Lennox didn’t need too much protecting. I think I had two rows in six years. I just had to stay with him and ensure he wasn’t unduly disturbed until he went to bed. I spent six years at training camp with Lennox. Observing.
At the first camp we went to he gave me and Courtney Shand [Lewis’s conditioner] a book on how to play chess and said: "In three days I expect you to give me a decent game."

No matter what Lennox does in life, he wants to win. I beat him maybe three times, which I’m very proud of ‘cos he’s a very good player. But one time I had him by the bollocks, two or three moves from check mate. Houdini couldn’t have got out of it. He said: "You’re improving," and got up pretending to show me something and knocked the board flying just so he didn’t lose!

For six years we got on really well, but then I walked out, just before he lost to Oliver McCall, over a matter of principle. After that I started running around with Frank. He used to allow me to sit in on business meetings and I learned a lot off him.

BM: What were your ambitions starting out?

EM: I’ve got six kids and my initial dream was to produce a champion from my own kin. My eldest son, Eugene Jr, boxed amateur and had a lot of natural talent. For two and a half years he trained and sparred alongside top pros like Mickey Cantwell and Darren Fifield. When he was about 23, I organised a deal for him to turn pro as a bantam with his uncle [Frank] and for Sky Sports to film all his fights, from day one. We even got him some big spreads in the Sunday papers.

Then one day I got wind he was drinking heavily in a pub so I went along, took him outside and told him: "Enjoy your beer, Eugene, ‘cos you ain’t going to be boxing no more."
BM: Your small hall promotions have drawn considerable critical acclaim. What have been the foundations behind your success? 

EM: While I think my knowledge of the game is very good, without a lot of luck, a few breaks and certain help, you’ll go nowhere.

I’ve surrounded myself with a really strong back up team. I get all the right advice from my brother, who I trust with my life. If I’m not sure which way to go, I’ll phone him, and even if I don’t go the way he suggests, I’m always grateful for his guidance. Besides being my brother his track record shows, he’s one of the most knowledgeable boxing people in England.

My chief trainer, Alan Smith, came pro with me about 18 months ago after 17 years as head trainer at the Marvels Lane amateur club. He’s 100%, 12 hours a day, seven days a week. So loyal.
His assistants are young Georgie Wadman who used to be with the Fisher 
[ABC] and [former pro] Kevin Middleton.

In Dean Powell, I’ve got one of the nation’s most astute matchmakers, and snaring Jamie Russell [Panix press officer] as my Promotions Manager was just like signing a top class amateur champion to the firm. He’s so knowledgeable and well respected by everyone in the game.

Finally, I’m learning the game to my 18-year-old son Jamie. He works here Monday to Friday, answers the phone and does the internet. Within the next three years I’m going to be the top promotional force in this country and I couldn’t be happier than to have me own family around working with me.

BM: The capital you’ve poured into converting the fabled but derelict Henry Cooper gym on the Old Kent Road into the Maloney Fight Factory hints that you intend being in this for the long haul.
EM: Though the Cooper was steeped in boxing tradition, it had become very dilapidated and we needed six articulated lorry tippers to take rubbish and shit out.

Between us, my trainer Alan Smith and me done £45,000 gutting it out, replastering all the walls and ceiling, putting in new toilets and showers.

When we first took it over the accommodation weren’t 100% up to scratch. I’d not have slept there so I’d not expect my fighters to sleep there until they were up to my standard. So we painted ‘em up, put in new beds and Sky TV in every room.

Now the boxers have a home to be proud of and we’ve got rules we expect to be obeyed. We’re developing a family thing where everybody trusts everyone.

You’ve got to graft. When I boxed pro, you had to run around selling your own tickets in pubs, clubs and shops. Today, as a promoter I put tickets on all my old friends and business associates.

While I’ve a lot of promising young novices who I need to keep unbeaten I’ll never feed them donuts, muppets or bums just to give them early knockouts. You try to get the knockouts when they’re champions.

My philosophy is, if a kid can’t fight he shouldn’t be licensed and I need to know now rather than invest in getting him 20 easy wins only to get the life spanked out of him when you put him in for the title.
That said I’ve done about 15 promotions averaging about 10 fights a show and only three of my house kids have lost. That ain’t a bad percentage.

BM: Last June, you experienced a fleeting sniff of the big time when your South African middleweight, Ruben Groenewald, took a contentious points win over Anthony Farnell for the vacant WBU title up in Manchester.

EM: Ruben came to the U.K. a nobody, with nothing. But when he came to see me I liked what I heard and, for two and a half years I accommodated him in Bethnal Green.

We built him up, kept him unbeaten then pulled a right stoke by sending Billy Graham [Farnell’s trainer] a tape of Ruben’s worst fight against Wayne Asher when for some reason, he didn’t box to his full ability.

Not only did they accept Ruben as an opponent, they gave us 10 weeks notice! We were very confident.
Listen, the only thing controversial about the first fight was that Farnell didn’t get disqualified. I stopped counting after the 15th time he hit Ruben up the bollocks. Admittedly, Farnell came on very strong in the last few rounds and, after the ninth, I did contemplate pulling Ruben out ‘cos his eye was closed and he was falling apart, taking stick.
Tenth round, he pulled himself together and hit Farnell at will.

Great though that combination [that dropped Groenewald heavily in the final session] was, you have to give Ruben immense credit for jumping up. He was really battered and no one could’ve called him a bottle job if he’d stayed on the penny [down].

If they’d given it to Farnell, there’d have been no screams from me, but you can’t win a 12-round fight on three or four rounds. Not with the [three] points Farnell had taken away.

BM: Farnell’s paymasters, Sports Network, coerced you into an immediate rematch — again in Manchester, sooner than your contract required — and Groenewald lost the belt on a split decision late in September [reported in this issue]. Any regrets?

EM: None at all. It could’ve gone either way. If Ruben has designs on becoming a genuine world class fighter he’s got to be able to beat the Farnells of this world. But he couldn’t change gear, rarely threw any right hands and had a very flat night. It’s a setback but he’s still only 24, he’s a very tough boy and, hopefully, we can put things right. We’re willing to give him another go.

BM: In addition to Groenewald, which of your flourishing stable of crowd-pleasers could make an impact on the mainstream championship scene in the foreseeable future?

EM: I’ve recently received a lot of flak for taking on Matthew Barney. He was a spoiler who lacked confidence in himself and didn’t like getting hit back. That’s why no one wanted to fight him or put him on TV.

Believe it or not, the kid's very underestimated, bags of natural ability. All we had to do is change his image, get him stepping to the side and working when he's in a clinch. Over the last six months he's shown massive improvement. My lightweight, Jason Hall, has got the biggest pair of balls you'll see in a kid. Mark Stupple, a light-middle, sells 200 tickets every fight and I recently signed Peter McDonagh, who was rated fifth in England as an amateur - I've never seen a kid improve so much in my life. 

Lives the game. He'll go a long way. And keep an eye out for my 181/2 stone heavyweight, Matt Shelton. He comes from a kickboxing background, never had an amateur fight yet stiffed a kid who'd won three out of four in two rounds on his debut. Hits like a mule. 

I also promote Ted Bami, who recently knocked out Bradley Pryce in Cardiff. He can go places.BM: Finally, what is Eugene Maloney's vision of the future? EM: Within three years I believe I can be the top promoter, with the best stable of fighters, in this country. 

While I need to earn money because I have to live, I've no desire to earn millions and millions. I just love the game and I'm old school. I don't want to be putting my kids in for WBF fights. They'll be going down the old Southern Area, British, Commonwealth, European route before they even think about fighting for a version of a world title. Once I've enough champions around me, I want to start putting shows back on at the Royal Albert Hall. I've a very talented, young stable with a lot to look forward to. When I first told Frank of my intention to branch out on my own, he said: "Euge, with promoting there's no in-between. Either you swim or you sink." Well I'm splashing about like a mad man Ôcos, believe me, I've no intention of drowning.