Irish Daily Star - Inside Sport
My safe haven has always been the gym...
SHANE McGUIGAN ON LIFE, LOSS AND DEALING WITH A FAMOUS NAME
THERE once was a boxer called Shane James. His father had been a fighter too. A young fella from Clones in Monaghan. When he became world featherweight champion in 1985, a staggering 19 million watched the fight on the BBC. That’s how big a deal Barry McGuigan was, so, when his son got the bug at 14, the family figured the surname carried a weight that might be a burden.
Surname
“When I started boxing, I used my middle name as my surname,’’ said Shane, now one of the most respected coaches in the game.
“People eventually put two and two together and I used my real name. It was one of those where everyone wanted to take my head off but it forced me to learn quickly.’’
Barry McGuigan came from a working-class background — the norm in boxing, but he did well enough from his days in the ring to give a different life to his kids. Shane went to a private school — Millfield. It was common there to have a famous father. Other past pupils include Romeo Beckham, Jason Connery and Lily Allen. Shane didn’t enjoy his school days. There was bullying, there were hierarchies in place that jarred with him. He is dyslexic, which presented further challenges. He started to become more and more keen on following in his father’s footsteps.
“Boxing is a tough business. My Dad spent a long time getting himself into the business so that he could put his kids into private schools,’’ he said. “We didn’t necessarily have to box but I gravitate towards it.
“I was going to the boxing gym from private school and I’d be getting stuff like ‘who’s this floppy-haired posh boy’ and so on. I was definitely the brunt of everyone’s jokes.
Stronger
“But then I started to get a bit stronger and bigger and they all just gave it up.’’
He won amateur titles, both in Ireland and the UK, but there was always a strange hollow feeling when his hand was raised.
McGuigan had started helping out with training other fighters. He found more fulfillment there. That became his vocation. He is gifted, one of the best around. From big fights in the past in the corner of the likes of Carl Frampton, David Haye and George Groves, he now has a talented stable that includes Lawrence Okolie, Chris Billam-Smith and Daniel Dubois. The most prestigious gong for a boxing trainer is the Futch-Condon award. Past winners include Emmanuel Steward, Eddie Futch, Teddy Atlas and Freddie Roach.
McGuigan picked it up in 2016 when he was just 28 years old.
What is even more remarkable is the fact that he was facing personal battles at the time.
“I struggle with some mental health problems, struggle with depression and anxiety,’’ he said. “When it first happened, looking back on it, it was severe exhaustion, mental fatigue from burning the candle at both ends.
“A lot of people, when they get to 27/28, they don’t know their limits, they go past them and they have a big crash. And I had a big crash, to be honest.
“I got treatment, took medication, took the steps I needed to take.
“There were a few years that were really tough — my divorce, the split with Carl (Frampton) and the court case after that, losing my sister, Danika. Big, life-changing obstacles. I’ve tried to just keep chugging along, rising above it and doing my best.’’
Abuse
If you want to talk about online abuse in boxing, you need to talk to the McGuigans.
Father and son have taken a serious amount of it, plenty of it well below the belt.
Barry’s decision to talk to the BBC’s Panorama programme for their investigation into Daniel Kinahan saw him targeted — with more boxing figures laying into him than the cartel boss.
The dispute with Frampton ended with a confidential settlement — but there are plenty online who seem sure that they know what happened.
And Shane has been targeted with vile stuff about his shortlived marriage. “I think it’s harder for my Dad to ignore it. I can sleep easy at night, I don’t care about the opinions of a few Twitter trolls,’’ he said. “What went on with my exwife has been well documented but I’m in a very happy place now.
“The one thing that was really tough to overcome was when we lost Danika to cancer.
“She passed away very quickly after her diagnosis. Those remaining days and weeks...I didn’t spend enough time with my sister. I didn’t do it because of my career.
“And I went back to work too quickly afterwards. I was back working a few days after her funeral. That’s what frustrates me and those will be regrets that I’ll always have. I’ll have them in 10, 15, 20 years time.
“Those are real regrets, not biting back at Twitter trolls will never be a regret.’’
McGuigan and his partner, Taylor, are parents now to Finley. Would he like him to continue the family tradition in the ring?
“As an amateur, I’d be happy for him to do it. There’s politics in the amateur game but it’s still very much a sport. In the pros, it’s a business, often a dirty business, and it’s dog eat dog,’’ he said.
“Even though I never turned pro, if Finley did, he’d have that surname, there would be eyes on him.
Pressure
“That’s where I felt the pressure. I felt if I went into the professional side, I’d become a slave to the sport, you know, and I’d be here, there and everywhere.
“I’d never be able to escape it, to go home and switch off. Even now, when I go to gatherings with extended family, people want to talk to me about boxing but it would be exacerbated if I was fighting.
“I look at people like Chris Eubank and Conor Benn (boxing sons of famous boxing fathers) and I think ‘well done to them’ because you can’t live a normal life at all.
“If you turn pro, you’re under a magnifying glass, 10 times greater than in the amateurs.
“I feel my time is precious now, especially since Finley was born. I don’t want to miss moments. He’s just seven months old, I want to be there for precious moments.’’
On his left hand is an eye catching tattoo.“It’s a rose. It’s for Danika.”
He turns his hand around to show his wrist. There it is. Danika’s name. Always with him, always with them.