13.06.09 – By John Wight – It was a reflective Alex Arthur that I sat down to talk to at his home in the centre of Edinburgh, just over a week before his first outing at lightweight in Glasgow against France’s Mohamed Benbiou. Absent was any of the false bravado or bluster we’re accustomed to hearing from most fighters this close to a fight, much of which is geared to a boxing public that has largely come to look upon fighters as machines rather than men with the same fears, vulnerabilities, and pressures we all have to deal with in our daily lives.
What struck me most as we got talking was the maturity of the man. Searching around for a reason why this should be the case, it came to me that here was a fighter whose potential from a very young age dwarfed that of his peers in the game, resulting perhaps in a harsher spotlight being shone on his career than that of probably any other British boxer of his generation. This inevitably fed a sense of waiting for him reach the heights such undoubted potential demands..
But then again, it’s easy to dismiss the achievements of an amateur career which saw 114 contests reach its high water mark with a Commonwealth gold medal in 1998, the same year he fought 30 international contests without defeat. Or how about a pro career in which he’s thus far achieved British, Commonwealth and European titles, not to mention the WBO world super-featherweight title?
Such a record of achievement, when viewed altogether, illustrates the unforgiving nature of a sport in which its finest practitioners are only ever one fight away from being held up to scrutiny and, dare I say it, disdained for daring to disappoint usually unrealistic expectations of invincibility. Consider Ali, for example. For every sublime performance against a Sonny Liston or a Cleveland Williams, there were the pedestrian and stuttering victories over the likes of Doug Jones or Karl Mildenberger.
Be that as it may, in this interview I was just as interested in getting to know the man every bit as much as the fighter. As such, I began by asking Alex about life was like for him growing up in Edinburgh. What were his earliest memories?
AA: I was brought up in the Southside, not far from where I live now. What I remember most was the struggle my mother had in putting food on the table after my dad got sent to prison. She had me and my brother, Mark, to look after and she couldn’t afford to buy us the wee luxuries that most kids get, like biscuits or sweets.
Saying that, she more than made up for it with the affection she showered on us.
JW: When did you first develop an interest in boxing and why?
AA: My dad was a big boxing fan. I remember getting excited when a big fight was on just because he was so excited. We’d watch the fights together and, looking back, I think a part of my attraction to the sport as a kid was the desire to make him happy.
JW: And did it?
AA (shaking his head vigorously): As soon as I mentioned I was interested in taking it up he said no.
JW: What age were you then?
AA: I was eight or nine years old. I remember my dad saying that out of every 10,000 who take up boxing only a couple ever make it. Even though he loved the sport, he was dead set against any of his own sons getting involved.
JW: Would you say you had a good relationship with your father?
AA: Yeah, I would. Even though he was a bit of a lad and was constantly in trouble, he did his best to make sure we didn’t go down the same path. But it wasn’t easy. I mean, I saw things which kids at that age should never see.
JW: Such as?
AA: Such as my old man regularly arriving home with bruised knuckles and blood all over his face. Such as the police raiding the house in the middle of the night and taking him away.
JW: So when and how did you actually start boxing, given your father’s opposition?
AA: Well, strange as it might seem, it was only when he got sent to prison that I was able to take it up.
JW: Wait a minute: in order for you to be free to box you had to wait until your old man lost his liberty?
AA: Exactly, I know. But that’s how it was?
JW: And so you joined the local gym and started from there?
AA: No. I started in the street. One day I saw a group of lads boxing. They were older and bigger than me, but I went over and asked if I could join in anyway.
JW: Really?
AA: I remember putting on the gloves for the first time and how great it felt. One of the lads was a decent amateur, a junior Scottish champion, and when he saw me beating everyone, I remember he got his dad to come and watch. From there I was introduced to Sparta (author’s note: Sparta is a famous amateur boxing gym in Edinburgh. Established in 1945, many of Scotland’s best amateurs have trained there, among them Ken Buchanan).
JW: Alex, something that’s always fascinated me about boxing is the psychology involved in the sport – the way that top fighters deal with fear when they climb through the ropes. I’ve always wondered if the ability to deal with this fear can be learned or if it’s innate. They say you can tell if a young kid has what it takes by his reaction when he takes a punch for the first time. What went through your mind? Do you still remember?
AA: I remember it as if it happened yesterday. I was sparring with this tall kid at Sparta and he hit me with a stiff jab. The immediate thought that went through my mind was ‘right, that means I have to get you back with two jabs.’
JW: So you didn’t want to stop or get out of there?
AA: No, definitely not. I wanted to get him back. It’s an attitude that’s stayed with me throughout my career.
JW: You know, you’ve never struck me as an aggressive fighter, more of a thinker and a technician. But…
AA: I used to be really aggressive in the early part of my career, though. It was my first coach at Sparta, a guy called Bob Scally, who got me to start thinking instead of just going in all guns blazing. Bob was a legend in the game. He used to spar with Tommy Farr and people like that, so you can imagine the knowledge and experience he had.
At this point I was interested in exploring what for me and many others has so far been the most defining fights in Alex’s career, the defeat he suffered at the hands of Michael Gomez back in 2003. Interestingly, it was just after this fight that I met Alex for the first time, when he came over to train with Freddie Roach at Wildcard in Los Angeles. I was based in LA at the time and met him when he first arrived at the gym.
JW: Alex, the Gomez fight. What happened? I mean, regardless of anything else, what a slugfest.
AA (laughing): You’re telling me.
JW: So what happened? I watched it again on You Tube recently and what struck me was how well you boxed in the second round. I mean, you really put on a masterclass. Yet by the fifth you were flat on your backside. What went wrong?
AA: Well, that was the gameplan going in, to box him at the end of my jab. When I went back to my corner at the end of that round Terry (Terry McCormack, Alex’s trainer) told me to just keep boxing like that and in another couple of rounds I’d finish him. But I couldn’t, my legs were completely gone. I said to Terry that I was going to have to give him a war and try to end it now.
JW: Both of you went to war all right.
AA: We didn’t half. I can’t take anything away from Michael, though. He was inspired that night. In fact, I think it would have taken a train to get him out of there, he was so up for it. But my preparation was all wrong.
JW: In what way?
AA: To be honest, it was a stage in my career when I got a bit too comfortable. I remember I’d just bought this place (referring to his house), had already managed to buy a couple of other properties, and still had money in the bank. It went to my head a bit. I mean, for a kid growing up in Niddrie, who up to his late teens/early twenties was still being supported by his mum, it was a massive turnaround. In fact, I couldn’t believe I’d done it.
JW: And it began to have a negative impact on your training?
AA: I was more interested in furnishing the house than I was in training for that fight. I bought this massive cream leather couch…I mean we’re talking something out of Scarface. I also got myself a big TV and a Playstation, and instead of going on my runs at night I’d just lie on the couch playing video games. I did, I really thought I’d win the fight comfortably and that I didn’t have to put the work in I normally would. But, again, that’s not to take anything away from Michael Gomez. On the night he fought like an animal and deserved to win.
JW: And then you went over to LA to train with Freddie.
AA: That’s right. I felt I needed to get away and take stock for a while.
JW: Freddie Roach, as everyone knows, is quite possibly the most talked about and revered boxing trainer not only of this generation, but ever. How do you think you benefited from that experience?
AA: It was great. Wee Ben (Bernard Dunne) was training there at the time and being able to spar with him and the likes of Nate Campbell and Manny Pacquiao did my confidence a lot of good.
JW: Because you realised you could live with these guys?
AA: Absolutely. Being tested by fighters of that calibre in sparring and more than holding my own was exactly what I needed after the Gomez fight.
JW: I remember watching you school Nate Campbell when you sparred with him. It looked like he hardly laid a glove on you.
AA: I must admit, I felt really good sparring with those guys. Very comfortable.
JW: But things didn’t work out with Freddie, did they?
AA: No. It became obvious early on that Freddie was just too busy to put the time in he would have wanted with me. He was also training Manny, James Toney, Johnny Tapia, and a few others at the time.. Flying all the way over to the UK for fights proved as impractical for him as it was for me moving out there on a permanent basis. I had my family to think about, my kids at nursery and school, etc., so in the end we went our separate ways.
JW: So you haven’t found staying based in Edinburgh in any way a hindrance to your career?
AA: Not at all. In fact, I don’t feel I’ve trained properly for a fight unless I’ve done my runs at Arthur’s Seat (author’s note: Arthur’s Seat is an Edinburgh landmark popular with keep fit enthusiasts and athletes of every stripe. Either running around its circumference or up it is extremely tough). I’m an Edinburgh lad through and through. This is where my family is, where Debbie my wife’s family is, so why would I wish to leave?
Having trained in the same gym as Alex over the past few months, where he’s now back under the tutelage of his old trainer, Terry McCormack, I’ve noticed a certain detachment about him. Sitting in his house, a comfortable, somewhat secluded residence in the centre of the city, I can see why. Alex is first and foremost a husband and father bringing up three young boys. With family pictures covering the living room and kitchen, you realise that where Alex Arthur is concerned there’s more to life than boxing.
I wanted to ask him if there was ever a time when he fell out of love with the sport.
AA: Yes. Just after the Gogoladze fight, when I won the interim world title. On the night I was buzzing. Even though it was for the interim title, I really felt as though I was the world champion, especially as [Juan] Guzman had avoided fighting Gogoladze before I fought him. Anyway, I went on holiday with Debbie and the kids over to Spain after the fight, and when I got back, I dunno…I just felt really down.
JW: Anticlimax maybe?
AA: I thought it might have been that at first. But I went to the doctor for tests and they came back showing a really low red cell count, indicating that my immune system was weak. Basically, my body was exhausted with making weight and years and years of training without any time off. Even when I was on holiday with the family I was out of my bed at the crack of dawn eery morning to go running along the beach in my sweat suit.
JW: Wait a minute. After you’d just gone through the rigours of a three month training camp, then fought for the interim world title, you were back out doing roadwork on holiday immediately after.
AA: Oh, I used to be unbelievable. Typically, if I was fighting on the Saturday, I’d be back out running and in the gym again on the Monday. I didn’t understand how important recovery is to a fighter’s training. I do now though.
In the final part of the interview, I wanted to talk about the present and the future, in particular about Alex’s decision to team back up with his old trainer, Terry McCormack, about moving up to lightweight, and his plans for the future.
JW: So, Alex, you’ve now made the move up to lightweight. Like myself, I’m sure there’ll be a lot of people out there who’ll be thinking it’s about time.
AA: Definitely. Looking back, I should have moved up after the Foster fight. But I’d just got my hands on a title after years spent waiting for the opportunity and I didn’t want to relinquish it just like that, you know.
JW: I remember watching you at the weigh-in for your fight with Nicky Cook and thinking you looked about ready to collapse. You appeared very weak and emaciated. Do you think that’s a fair assessment?
AA: Yes. You wouldn’t believe what I went through to make the weight for that fight. The week before, I couldn’t even get from my bed to the bathroom without leaning on the wall for support. My body was so drained I actually thought I was going to faint at the weigh-in.
JW: And now that you’ve moved up to lightweight, how does it feel?
AA: Fantastic. Now I can eat healthily all the way up to the fight, which means I’m much stronger in the gym. I’m training with a smile on my face again.
JW: And you’re back with Terry McCormack now.
AA: To be honest, I should never have left him. No disrespect to any of the other trainers I’ve worked with in recent years, but Terry knows me so well and I would definitely say he’s the best trainer in Scotland right now. He’s worked with Paul Appleby and he trains Gary McMillan, along with some really good up and coming amateurs.
JW: He’s got a good relationship with Freddie Roach too, hasn’t he?
AA: Yeah, through my involvement with Freddie they got to know each other and since then Terry’s been over a few times with some of the lads. He’s had Gary and Paul sparring with the likes of Pacquiao, which has obviously been great experience for them.
JW: Finally, Alex, what’s next for you? Where do you see your career heading now?
AA: I just can’t wait to get back in the ring again. I’ve had a great training camp and I feel confident now that I’ve moved up in weight. Sparring has been excellent, my work with Terry on the pads has been top notch, and I’m raring to go. After this fight, all going well, I’ll be looking to keep busy and hopefully put myself in the frame for a title shot sooner rather than later.
Suddenly, we’re interrupted by the sound of running feet as Alex’s wife, Debbie, returns with their two youngest from nursery. It’s funny, but with his youthful appearance and demeanour it’s hard to believe that Alex Arthur is a father of three. Watching him interact with his kids, however, it strikes me that if his boxing career were to end tomorrow, here is a man who would be able to adjust without any problem. Balance is the word that springs to mind where he’s concerned.
But, even so, Scotland’s Alex Arthur has no intention of hanging them up anytime soon. On the contrary, he’s now at a stage in his career where experience and talent has merged to make him more than ready to make his mark among the current crop of lightweight champions and contenders. With his love of the sport restored, he’s every bit as hungry for success in the ring as he was when he first put on a pair of boxing gloves in the street at the age of ten and started doing what he does best – winning fights.