THE GURU OF GEORGE STREET
After a rocky professional career that was derailed by his hellraiser lifestyle, Tony Borg found his calling as a trainer, writes Gareth Jones
WHEN it became known that Tony Borg was going to train Lee Selby as a professional, he received a phone call from a friend on the Welsh amateur scene. “You’re wasting your time with him,” he was told.
The Barry boy had won three straight elite titles, but his attitude outside the ropes had not impressed some.
“He’s let us down a few times,” Borg was warned. “And he doesn’t put in the work.”
The Newport-based trainer was inclined to agree after seeing Selby’s first sparring session at his St Joseph’s gym on George Street in the heart of the city.
“I put him in with a couple of my lads and he had his arse kicked,” recalls Tony. “I asked him how he used to prepare and he said he just sparred a bit with his brother, Andrew, and that was it.
“I told him, ‘You’re better than them, but they beat you because they haven’t been out drinking and smoking.’ I said, ‘If you can achieve what you have like that, imagine what you can do if you train like these boys.’
“And, fair play, he listened. And now the cream has risen to the top.”
As the IBF featherweight king, Selby is the undisputed star of the stable, but there have been plenty of others helped to honours under the guidance of the shaven-headed, neatbearded Borg.
Among the amateurs, Andrew Selby, Joe Cordina and Fred Evans all claimed European gold medals, and Sean Mcgoldrick did the same at the Commonwealth Games. The first three also represented GB at the Olympics, Evans striking silver.
All four are now professionals – although Cordina has moved to Essex to be looked after by Tony Sims – and boast 100 per cent records, with the younger Selby already ruling Britain’s flyweights. Gary Buckland has also worn the Lonsdale Belt, while Robbie Turley won a Commonwealth crown and Craig Evans holds the WBO European title. Ashley Brace is the WBC International queen.
“She’s special,” insists Borg. “I can’t wait to see her up against Nicola Adams. That would be some fight.” Add British title challengers such as Matthew Edmonds and Dale Evans, plus a clutch of Welsh and Celtic champions, and it is easy to see why the quietly spoken Borg is on the shortlist for the Boxing News Trainer of the Year award.
The story began in the Cardiff district of Tremorfa, where the eight-year-old Tony was a bit of a handful. “The school and the neighbours were complaining,” he says. “I was the only black kid in the street, I was small and I was mouthy, so I was always getting into fights. My mother took me to Benny Jacobs’ gym in town, where former middleweight Phil Edwards was in charge.
“I remember seeing Tommy Glencross” – then-reigning British featherweight ruler – “and I was amazed that someone from as far away as ➤
I WAS THE ONLY BLACK KID IN THE STREET, I WAS SMALL AND I WAS MOUTHY, SO I WAS ALWAYS GETTING INTO FIGHTS”
Scotland was training in my home city. I was in awe.”
As a member of Roath Youth ABC, Borg twice won British schoolboy championships and then a Welsh senior title, before turning over with Newport ex-pro Billy May. When he was 17, his mother died and with no father he opted to move the dozen miles east to the place he has called home ever since.
Borg began with four wins, but discovered something about the business side when he was called up as a late substitute to face a local ticket-seller, Alex Cairney, at Glasgow’s St Andrew’s Sporting Club.
“I didn’t know anything about the way the sport worked,” he admits. “I went out and knocked the kid out in two. Billy was fuming, saying he’d told me to take it steady and I’d gone in swinging. It was only when I saw him apologising to the promoter that I realised I hadn’t been supposed to win.”
His relationship with May survived long enough for Tony to challenge former British feather boss Steve Sims for the Welsh super-feather belt, losing by just half a point after flooring “Sammy” in the second. Nine months later, the newly retired Sims was his manager.
Borg’s own career was effectively ended when he was hit by a car while doing roadwork, suffering head injuries and a broken leg which required two operations. “I started drinking and getting into fights all the time,” says Tony. “I ended up in court and the Board took my licence away. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not ashamed of it either. I enjoyed it. But after a couple of years I woke up and realised it couldn’t go on.” There was a brief comeback, but following a points loss to unbeaten Bristol prospect Ross Hale, Borg gave up the struggle. “My back was bad, I couldn’t run to make weight and I thought, ‘If I’m losing to kids on the way up, I don’t want this anymore.’” During his time out, Tony had worked with lightweight Marcel Herbert and now focused on training, soon being invited to take over at St Joseph’s, where he has established a reputation as one of the best in the business. “I don’t train the way I do because this one showed me or that one showed me,” points out Borg. “I see things here and there and think, ‘That’s good. I’ll use that.’ I’ve learned so much from the boxers I’ve trained. I’ve never stopped learning.” One wrinkle involves sparring. “When we have visiting pros coming to the gym I always introduce them to our boy first, then walk away and let them have a bit of a conversation. They tend to show each other more respect then. “Sometimes the outsider will try to show how good he is and get a bit too aggressive. If that happens, I tell my lad to give him a dig, but then walk away. And have a laugh and a joke when they’ve finished. The next time the guy comes they’ll have a better session.
“It’s the same with our boys. I don’t want them going too hard. I’ve pulled Fred [Evans] out after three rounds and told him to go and punch the bag. You don’t want to be beating up sparmates – as long as you’re winning the rounds and looking good, that’s better. I mean, you want them to come again.”
Many trainers take on the role of manager as well.
IT WAS ONLY WHEN I SAW MY MANAGER APOLOGISING TO THE PROMOTER THAT I REALISED I HADN’T BEEN SUPPOSED TO WIN”
Not Borg, most of whose pupils are with Bristolbased Chris Sanigar. His reluctance dates back to an experience when he did, briefly, take out a licence to handle a young southpaw, Damien Dunnion.
“I got a call from matchmaker Jimmy Gill, wanting someone to face a Mongolian called Shinny Bayaar on a show in Stoke,” says Tony. “I told him about Dunnion, who’d been a decent junior, but then drifted out of the game. Jimmy asked if we’d entered him in the ABAS and I said we hadn’t, because he wasn’t ready. So the fight was agreed.
“Then Damien beat him easily and Jimmy and Bayaar’s manager, Jack Doughty, went bananas: ‘We’ve invested all this money in this lad, and now he’s lost on his British debut – and you told us your boy wasn’t ready for the ABAS.’ And he wasn’t ready – he was between weights and not properly fit. They never asked me if he was any good!”
Ironically, Dunnion never boxed again, while Bayaar became a British citizen and flyweight champion of his new country. Borg, meanwhile, turned away from the problems of dealing with promoters, and concentrated on the training side. At first, there was still a need for other work, mainly on the doors, to make ends meet. An incident outside one venue led to an assault charge which hung over his head for two years before it was thrown out after CCTV evidence showed the ‘victim’ was entirely to blame. That prompted him to go full-time in the gym.
The sort of all-seeing eye that kept him out of prison is now serving him on a day-to-day basis at St Joe’s. Amid the state-of-the-art equipment is a closed-circuit TV system which can be monitored from Borg’s office. It has many advantages.
“I can sit at my desk and still keep tabs on what’s happening upstairs and elsewhere in the building,” says Tony. “One of our top fighters always used to say that he’d completed four circuits – now I know if he’s only done three!
“We also record all sparring and padwork, so if I see somebody is letting his hand slip or there’s some other technical thing we need to work on, I can show him exactly what I mean.”
The system has also proved useful with young newcomers taking their first steps in the sport.
“Most of them have parents with them at first and when they got hit or did something wrong their first instinct would be to turn towards Dad. But now we ask the parents to stay downstairs, where they can watch on a big screen. So they can still keep an eye on their kids, while the kids can concentrate on what they’re supposed to be doing.”
Borg believes few other gyms have this facility, although one that does is the Team GB headquarters in Sheffield. Some trainers are loath to see their charges called up to the squad, feeling that others are going to enjoy the fruits of their labours. Borg is not one of them, but he has one reservation.
“I think it’s a good thing if one of my boxers gets the chance to go to big events and chase medals,” he says. “But when they come back to you to turn pro, there can sometimes be problems.”
And he points to Mcgoldrick’s second paid fight, in Belfast in June, when he was below par in outpointing Merseysider Ricky Starkey.
“All his family had come over, so after the fight I just said to go and enjoy the win with them. But I said I wanted to see him on the Monday.
“Then I told him straight, ‘You won, but you were piss-poor.’ It’s down to what they get used to at Team GB. All of them are programmed to go to tournaments, where they have to weigh in again each morning. But in the pros you weigh-in once – you’re on that scale for 10 seconds and then you rehydrate.
“Sean had weighed in two pounds less than his opponent, but when we went to eat he was just picking at his food. Starkey stepped off the scales and had a drink, then went off for a couple of meals. By fight time, Sean was only a couple of pounds heavier than at the weigh-in, while the other guy would have put on half-a-stone or more. It made all the difference.”
When Mcgoldrick reappeared six weeks later, he looked much sharper and finished matters inside a round. Another champion-in-waiting had learned a vital lesson from the guru of George Street.