SOCIAL ANIMAL
He was out of control as a youngster and is still prone to childishness on Twitter but, when it comes to winning Olympic medals, Michael Conlan is deadly serious
By Shane McGrath CHIEF SPORTS WRITER IN RIO DE JANEIRO
MICHAEL CONLAN epitomises the problem with social media. The relationship between boxers and their Twitter accounts has been argued over since Paddy Barnes was beaten last Monday. Conlan’s fellow Belfast man is a prolific Twitter user and inevitably his defeat in Rio was attributed by some to misplaced focus.
Conlan defended him with some industrial language — through Twitter.
Behind the 140-character grabs and the wiseacre observations, though, Conlan is an interesting character.
He is not the first person to whom social media fails to do justice.
Michael Conlan is also now one of the two boxers in who Ireland’s golden fancies are now invested.
The bantamweight fights for the first time at the Rio Games this afternoon, against an Armenian called Aram Avagyan (3.30pm Irish-time).
He is expected to win, even as we know the brittle worth of expectations after what has happened to Barnes and Joe Ward here. Like Katie Taylor, though, Conlan is deemed too good to fail before guaranteeing at least a bronze medal.
There was a fair weight of expectation on him before the disasters of last week. It has increased in the aftermath of others’ failures.
Conlan should cope. His horizons take in more than the nearest punch-bag and weights room. He is an ambassador for Aware NI, and has spoken of the catastrophic problem of suicide in west Belfast where he grew up.
‘A lot of people, friends and friends of friends, I’ve known growing up have killed themselves and I couldn’t believe they’d done that,’ he said in an interview before Rio.
‘The suicide rate is very high. There’s a big problem with young guys in west Belfast, and I definitely could have been one of those statistics.’
It is uncommon to find reflection of that nature in a 24-year-old, but Conlan is evidently bright. His accent and rapid speaking pattern make him difficult to understand at times, but he can be witty. He has responsibilities, too, as the father of a small child. He is engaged to be married and would like to go away after the Olympics and have the wedding abroad.
Such concerns did not bother the teenage Conlan. He has remembered himself as a tearaway, with troublemakers for friends and habits that could have destroyed his talent before it was ever properly realised.
‘I fell in with the wrong crowd between the ages of 13 and 16. Growing up in west Belfast, it was kind of the norm,’ he has said.
‘My parents still don’t know what I was up to then, I was involved in drugs and drinking from a young age, and stealing, and vandalism. I always tried to hide it because if my older brother Jamie knew I was doing any of that stuff he’d have slapped the head off me.’
He had the skills to do so as well: Jamie Conlan is a professional boxer and a reigning Commonwealth champion.
There is a greater influence closer again to Conlan in Rio.
His father John is one of the three Irish boxing coaches here. John Conlan is a Dubliner who followed a lightly trod path in the 1970s: he migrated north, to the Falls Road, after falling in love with Conlan’s mother, Teresa.
John Conlan-trained fighters in the St John Bosco club on the Falls, and his sons eventually followed him through the doors. The relationship between father and son is close, but John sounded as much like a doting parent as an Olympic coach when comparing his son to the fighter who won a bronze medal at flyweight in London.
‘He’s a different Michael Conlan now. There’s a massive difference. He was a boy then who didn’t really understand it. His weight wasn’t really on track the way it should have been so by the time he got to the medal bout, it took a toll.
‘This time it’s different. His weight is well under control, he’s a lot stronger, older, more experienced, he relishes the challenge and I totally believe I’ve seen him standing on the podium with his medal with the national anthem in the background.’
In London, Michael Conlan emerged as a second Belfast livewire, close to Barnes and making the impact the latter did in Beijing: half-starved looking but who hungered only after gold.
Conlan was beaten in the semi-finals by a Cuban called Robeisy Ramirez Carrazana. He is also fighting bantamweight here, seeded sixth to Conlan’s No1.
‘I don’t want to receive a bronze medal for losing; I think Paddy Barnes said that,’ said Conlan four years ago.
‘He’s changed his mind this year but I’m devastated with bronze. Well, I’m happy at the same time but you always want to be the best, you want gold.’
There is evidence to back up his father’s pride at the son’s improvement.
Conlan won a Commonwealth title in 2014, is a European champion and last year he became the first Irishman to win a world championship title when he was victorious in Doha.
He was recognised as RTÉ’s sports personality of the year for 2015. BBC Sport NI also named him their sports person of the year.
His impact as an amateur boxer is second only Taylor on the team, and it is to the two of them that a nation turns eyes hungry for gold. Without fully appreciating the effort involved or understanding the depth of talent that floods an Olympics from sources around the world, we have become accustomed to high-achieving boxers.
Where Taylor is circumspect, Conlan is tightly packed with ambition and brazenness and braggadocio. He is a modern fighter in that way, but has a respect for his sport and its power, both good and bad.
‘What I’m doing is a form of art; showing complete and utter skill in combat sport. I wouldn’t ever go into a fight wanting to seriously hurt someone, but you do need to stop them because they’re trying to stop you reaching your dream.
‘I’ll do anything to take them out of the way. You can be a nice guy even though you’re punching people for a living.’
You can be sensitive, too, and boxers who came long before Conlan have proved that. His work with Aware is responsible and admirable, but this is a man who has certainty in his life.
He has talked about turning professional, for example, and he had talked of doing so in spring of last year had he not qualified for the Olympics.
It is expected that he will follow his brother into professionalism after Rio, and Conlan has dreams of retiring at 30.
Carefully-laid plans have been pummelled into irrelevance over the past week, and the country should now appreciate that there are no givens in boxing. Apart from the strengths of the opponent opposite them, there are other influences, from attitude to sleep to nerves that can interfere with longnursed dreams.
Conlan is not expected to find trouble today, though, and close observers of this game argue he could be a stronger contender for the top place on a podium than Taylor.
There is no point in suggesting otherwise: the pressure is on. Happily, Conlan is smart and bold enough to cope with that.