DONOVAN’S DATE WITH DESTINY
Kildare southpaw has been at ease preparing for tonight’s garden party which could earn him a world title shot
AT AN appointed hour this evening, Eric Donovan will turn to a diary on his bedside locker and begin tapping back into the forbearance and faith that have brought him to this hotel room in Essex. There, in minute detail, he’ll run a finger through pages collating the small eternity of sacrifices banked. Every spar (110 rounds in total), every track session, gym session, every swim even since receiving confirmation of tonight’s super-featherweight fight with Mancunian, Zelfa Barrett.
Every sliver of feedback from Kenneth Egan will be revisited, every noted scribble of his own, endlessly searching self-analysis.
You can’t be a tourist on the fight side of the Holiday Inn in Brentwood and, at 35, Donovan was never coming here with anything but the clearest of heads.
Week three of ‘Matchroom FightCamp’, a Covid-era idea built around Eddie Hearn’s opulent back garden, gives Donovan a shot at something that, for too long, seemed hopelessly out of reach. Everything in boxing comes down, ultimately, to opportunity and a title fight (for the IBF intercontinental championship) – televised live on Sky Sports – probably wouldn’t have come his way without the global pandemic.
Psychological
So the almost hermetically-sealed environment that he and Egan checked in to last Monday hasn’t been the psychological challenge for Donovan it’s palpably proved to others.
Last week, one fighter complained ‘You can lose your mind in here!’, finding the place isolating and disorienting. All the boxers are housed on and restricted to the same side of the hotel, opponents just separated by a floor.
There is no dining-room, meals served only through room service.
“It’s not been problematic or challenging in any way” Donovan said yesterday. “Honestly, I’m happy enough just to sit for a day in my own company. Like I’ve been in some dire places representing Ireland across Eastern Europe in training camps and that. By comparison, this is massive luxury. It’s completely stressfree, strain-free.”
Movies and music bleed the time away, Donovan losing himself in Assassins, a Sly Stallone film about a troubled hit-man, on Tuesday night. He’s been reading what he can too, having just finished Andre Agassi’s autobiography, Open.
And he’s been meditating, visualising, listening to pet songs, like Labi Siffre’s Something Inside So Strong or Tyrone Barkley’s Man of Value. Or, sometimes, just drenching the room in The Pogues, The Dubliners or Wolfe Tones.
Donovan’s speaking from what is a war-room essentially, but he’s never felt calmer or more grateful.
The food menu has been upgraded following complaints through the first two fight weeks and there’s even a ‘Fighting Fit’ section now, catering for boxers trying to make sometimes penal weights.
“On the first night, I had chicken, rice and broccoli,” Donovan revealed, having successfully weighed in under the nine stone, four limit. “Second
night: salmon, mixed vegetables and rice. Lovely.
“But I’ve also brought my own stuff. Quick oats. Tuna salad. Little tins of salmon fillets. Bananas, mandarins, peanut butter, all my protein bars, protein nuts, Dioralyte for rehydration.
“Normally, if I was making featherweight (the division in which he is Irish champion), I wouldn’t be eating a lot of stuff on fight week. But I’ve been able to eat really well this week.”
Barrett and he have been respectful in media exchanges and whenever encountering one another around the hotel.
At 27, the Englishman is a resounding 1/7 favourite to beat the Athy veteran, having won all but one of his 24 professional fights. A cousin of Manchester United full-back Brandon Williams, he puts that solitary defeat down to taking a fight against southpaw Ronnie Clark on short notice two and a half years ago.
“I was meant to fight an eightrounder against a Spanish guy” he explained recently. “I’d never done 12 rounds in my life, didn’t even do it in the gym.
“I know when I prepare for somethe one, they’re not beating me. Not a chance. Some fighters fold when they get hurt. It turns me on, but intelligently.”
Barrett – who wears tattoos in memory of his late brother, John, as well as a deceased cousin, Wayne – says starkly: “I believe no man can hurt me as much as I’ve been hurt in life.”
Frail
Yet, Donovan suggests that his opponent “looks a bit gaunt” to him, that his appearance is “a bit frail, a bit skinny, like someone who has taken off a lot of weight”.
As a member of the Matchroom stable, it seems probable that Barrett will get any verdict in a close fight tonight. But it’s clear too that Donovan’s intelligence and articulacy have been making an impact on everybody encountering him this week.
Hearn even joked to Barrett that he’d surely have difficulty summoning the instinct to punch such a likeable opponent on the nose.
For the unbeaten Donovan, such clubby banter will be kept at safe distance as he prepares to climb through
ropes some time around 9pm.
“Being honest, I feel a bit overwhelmed by the way everybody is warming to me over here” he admits. “Because I never had this exposure before. This is unheard of for me, how warmly I’m being received and embraced by the public and media in Ireland and the UK. It’s very humbling.
“But everybody keeps referring to me as a nice guy and a great talker. And, listen, that’s nice. I really do appreciate the comments. People are being so very respectful. But I feel like reminding them, ‘I’m a boxer too, you know and I hope you think I’m a great one after this fight!’
“Because make no mistake about it. The Mister Nice Guy will go out the window soon as that first bell rings.”
The pandemic caused the postponement of his wedding to Laura and there have certainly been tough days in Donovan’s life when he’s felt as if the boxing world had its back turned.
But a win tonight would bring a top-15 IBF ranking and, potentially, a world title shot.
And, from the sound of his voice yesterday, fight camp has given him the tranquillity of a country spa.
“Oh my God, I’ve been waiting for this break for so long,” he stressed. “There were times when I felt like giving up. And, you know, there’s a real message in here for everybody.
“You know in life, when you’re ambitious and hungry but feel that things aren’t working out for you . . . don’t throw in the towel. Trust me, I felt like doing it, felt like giving up.
“But deep down inside, there was just something telling me ‘Eric, you never know what’s around the corner . . .’ So I kept training all through lockdown. Said to myself, ‘What’s the worst than can happen? You get yourself into good shape?’
“So when the opportunity came, I was already at 70 per cent. I’m fully aware that this is a massive opportunity in my life. A win here will just open the door to so many new possibilities. But it hasn’t happened by luck or chance. This was well earned, because I’ve worked my ass off for so long.
“Deep down inside of me, I know I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me.”
The proof is in that diary on his bedside locker.