FURY IS BACK
We speak to Tyson ahead of his highly awaited return
YOU always know what you are going to get when you speak to Tyson Fury. By that I mean the 29-year-old is so swift and changeable that you have to expect the unexpected and simply go with the flow.
My first meeting with Fury came about by happenstance. I dropped into Brian Hughes’ gym on a cold December morning in 2009 and bumped into the contender, then 9-0, who told me that he had his “talking head on”. He declared he had talked his way into an English title shot at (and contentious win over) John Mcdermott in September of that year, that the British scene was crying out for decent heavyweights, that he was his own worst enemy, that one or both Klitschkos would lose to him, and he declared that the British public hate to see a success story — he predicted his future, basically.
Roll on a few months and we sat in Hughes’ gym again as Fury expertly broke down the domestic division and displayed a knowledge of the European scene that would put even the most diehard anorak to shame. His sign off was an admittance that he loved to fight and enjoyed “dancing to the ring”.
Just a few months later he was gone, returning to the family fold by hooking up once again with his uncle Hughie, who passed away in 2014, and training out of Lancaster after deciding that he needed closer attention to prepare for the Mcdermott rematch.
Fury won that one in nine in June 2010. Not long after, he admitted that he struggled with depression and became far more expansive in interviews. They became less an encyclopaedic dissection of the heavyweight division and more masterclasses in scatty raconteuring.
Our paths crossed again at the O2 Arena in May 2011, the night that Fury whipped his shirt off, threw it on the floor and challenged future foe Dereck Chisora to an impromptu straightener. Now, “Del Boy” may come across as a little crazy at times, but he is certainly not mad and backed away from the situation, shouting “Didn’t you see what just happened, man!” when asked for an interview. The last time Tyson and I met in person was at a house in Bolton ahead of his challenge for Wladimir Klitchko’s IBF, WBA and WBO titles. Fury had driven from Morecambe at his uncle and then trainer Peter’s request. “This better not be s**t, it took me an hour to get here” he declared. The usual questions — “How is training going? How will the fight go? — were ditched in favour of a more leftfield discussion about politics,
race and psychology. “That was the most controversial interview ever,” beamed Fury at its conclusion, his mood lifted. It was clear then, as had been the case with Chisora, that he once again had the mental measure of his opponent and would find a way to win. Our final conversation prior to his sabbatical took place just after he lifted the heavyweights titles. Fury
was driving along the motorway. He had no fixed destination in mind — “I just like going for a drive with the kids” — and talked over Hands Free about his attempt to buy a castle, the win over Klitschko, his post-fight sing-song, “They loved it didn’t they, the Germans”, and compared himself to Muhammad Ali.
We all know what came next, chaos: a prolonged wrangle with UKAD over a failed
nandralone test that was settled in December via a backdated ban that left him clear to resume his career, media backlash over comments about
homosexuality, a BBBOC suspension, and his continued battle with depression. ³
WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING PHONING A BIG-TIME BOXING CHAMPION FOR AN INTERVIEW?”
I KISS MY FANS, I UPSET MY FANS... DID YOU KNOW I GOT KICKED OUT OF A SUNBED SHOP EARLIER?”
Now, though, Fury is back; he calls it “The return of the Mac” and promoter Frank Warren has laid the groundworks for what the Bible-loving fighter will no doubt feel is a Lazarus-like resurrection. Still, Sefer Seferi has been widely criticised as a choice of comeback opponent, with many suggesting that someone of Fury’s calibre should have looked elsewhere. Warren was bullish when this was put to him by Boxing News, saying: “I could not give a sh*t about what people are saying about his opponent. I told people when we made the fight that we hope it won’t be a one-rounder and I don’t think it will be.
“Tyson needs the rounds so we looked for an opponent who could give them to him,” he argued. “Anyone with half-a-brain knows that it will be nearly a thousand days out of the ring by the time he fights again. Surely they understand what that means for a fighter, and if they don’t then they shouldn’t buy a ticket or even watch it on TV because you either understand boxing or you don’t know boxing.
“From day one we’ve not led anyone up the garden path. How can you criticise Tyson after what he has gone through outside the ring? This guy [Seferi] went 10 rounds with [Manuel] Charr. It is all about that experience of getting back into the ring and everything that leads up to it. In two or three fights we will have him where he needs to be again.”
It was now merely a case of putting in a call to the fighter himself by way of Ben Davison, his new trainer — what could be simpler? “Who the f**k is this?” asked a sprightly sounding Fury when the phone was handed to him by Davison. “Who the f**k is Terry Dooley?”
He was a “And where are you going?” addendum away from plummeting this former philosophy student into a pit of existential despair. Realising it was going to be one of those calls I cheerily told him that: “I’m just a small-time boxing writer hoping for an interview.”
“What the hell do you think you are doing phoning
a big-time boxing champion for an interview, then?” Fury responded.
“I thought I’d chance my arm and see if we can get a big-time article out there,” I said. “How are you?” “I’m cushty, cushty,” he said, channelling his inner Del Boy by using the Romany slang term for happy. “It is all good. Fantastic. Fantastic. I’m still a world champion talker, or so Klitschko said. I’ve been away like an outlaw, but now I’ve come back as a hero.”
“Now you’re talking, boy, yeah!” he shouted when I mentioned that support for him has grown during his absence. “The fans are all behind me and I’m behind them. I fight for my fans because without the sport fans there are no sport stars. I’m their champion, and I will fight like one as well.
“I’m the people’s champion. Some people hide away from the fans, I embrace them. It is all day every day, hundreds of people. Do they get turned away? No they don’t. They get hugs, kisses, I upset them, I make them happy — I go right across the board. Did you know that I even got kicked out of a sunbed shop earlier?”
“I decided to go and lift the sunbed lid up while Ben was on it and BT were filming," he explained.
“They won’t just need a Parental Advisory sticker or pixilation to cover what they saw, they’ll need a transit van to hide it.
“The manager ended up chucking me out,” he added before erupting into a football chant.
“What’s going on with you, anyway?” he asked, suddenly turning the tables with one of many non sequiturs. “How’s life at the moment? I’m as sound as a pound myself.”
In a tenuous bid to turn things towards boxing, I mentioned that I had just read an article in which Anthony Joshua attempted to debunk the myth that you should practice sexual abstinence during training camps, which stems from the Nietzschean idea that semen is reabsorbed back into the blood and nourishes it while building strength, in the hope of parlaying that particular angle into a conversation about Fury’s domestic rival.
“I’m old-school,” he said. “No sex when training. I’m a hardcore Trojan warrior. I’ve been in camp for eight-weeks so my balls are like pineapples. You can start calling me old ‘Pineapple Balls’, like Beckham. I’m bursting. It means I’ll have to get him [Seferi] out of there early. Nah, hopefully it goes five or six rounds or maybe even 10 because I need rounds under my belt after all this time out of the ring.”
Fury’s recent weight loss and return to fitness has been a source of wonderment, especially when you consider that he admitted to ballooning up to around 25 stone. However, a sudden weight crash can weaken certain areas, for example Riddick Bowe’s legs looked awfully frail in his second fight with Andrew Golota in 1996 and he only dropped around 17lbs for that one.
“I just did it very, very slowly — it took about four weeks to start getting it down,” replied Fury when asked if there is a risk of being weakened. “Yeah, yeah, my legs are weak, I feel like I’m on sticks. I’ll have to do some leg exercises after the fight.
“Only kidding, my legs are alright — they are strong. The ‘Mac’ is back, don’t you worry about all of that other stuff.”
Fury prides himself on the fact that he can box, punch, turn southpaw and adapt, making him an
interesting counterpoint to the increasingly controlled aggression of Joshua and the freewheeling effective chaos that Deontay Wilder brings to the table. Fury, though, was keen to point out that he might
decide to end matters quickly: “I could just come out freewheeling and take him out early, who knows."
The proud traveller loves every moment of his ring walks, often singing along to his chosen music. Given his new nickname surely the only logical choice for his comeback tune is Mark Morrison’s Return Of The Mac or Bobby Darin’s Mack The Knife followed by a postfight singsong to celebrate? “It is too early to say, I’ve not yet decided, but it will be a good ring walk either way for everyone to enjoy,” he said. “But my voice box is f**ked, so there won’t be a singsong. Alright then, I’ve got to go. It was nice talking to you. Keep it real.” In the midst of all that BN can confirm that, yes, his training has gone well, he feels better than ever, he’s excited about fighting again, and hopes to put on a show.
Of course, I had planned to ask if the layoff had given Fury a chance to enjoy some quality time with his family, and especially his father, John, to make up for some lost time, if Tony Bellew is a viable option, how things stand with Peter Fury since their split, and does he sympathise with Raheem Sterling, who is the latest victim of the British tabloid press and their twin obsession with celebrity and chipping away at reputations. Those are questions for tomorrow, because today, he wasn’t in the mood.
For now, the return of Fury will be viewed vastly differently depending on your perspective on one of the UK’S most unpredictable, candid, captivating and contentious characters.
YEAH, YEAH, MY LEGS ARE WEAK, I FEEL LIKE I’M ON STICKS. I’LL HAVE TO DO SOME LEG EXERCISES”