STYLE & SUBSTANCE
George Gigney recounts a recent trip to Monaco for the launch of the World Boxing Super Series
AFTER I land at Nice airport and make my way through the Arrivals exit, my attention is immediately drawn to a picture of Muhammad Ali. I double take at a portly man holding a sign with Ali’s image, under which is my name and the names of two British journalists who were also on my flight. Also on the sign is a logo for the World Boxing Super Series – the reason we have descended on the South of France.
The 16-fighter, two-weight tournament is officially launching with the Draft Gala, where the seeded fighters choose their quarter-final opponents and everything is set in motion.
Once we’ve all congregated by our driver – dressed in Super Series branded clothing – he leads us into the sweltering heat outside where a black Mercedes Vito (also branded) is parked. So far, so extravagant.
The car journey from Nice airport to Monaco – where the Draft will take place – lasts roughly 30 minutes and I can’t help but smile out the window as the car glides past vividly green valleys and sun-baked vistas. Boxing isn’t particularly glamorous, writing about it even less so, but this feels rather different.
We soon arrive in Monaco itself, passing cruising supercars on the road and dormant superyachts out on the water. Our destination is the plush Fairmont Hotel, which sits on the famous hairpin turn of Circuit de Monaco, outside of which is a squadron of yet more Super Series vehicles.
As we pull up, WBO cruiserweight champion Oleksandr Usyk is entering the building with his manager Egis Klimas. The fighters in the tournament have been in Monaco for several days already, fulfilling promotional duties.
It’s mercifully well air-conditioned inside the hotel and I plan to drop my bags off in my room before exploring, and maybe tracking down some fighters to speak to. That changes when I actually get to my room. A wall of natural light hits me as I walk through the door, and once my eyes I adjust I realise there’s a balcony, complete with a desk and sun-lounger, that looks out to sea. The room is kitted out with everything you could need
and more – including two digital alarm clocks and a mini bar. After a glance at the price menu, I make a mental note to give it a wide berth.
I feel a wave of temptation to stick on the bathrobe, lie on the unnecessarily huge bed and lap up the luxury of it all. Alas, I drag myself away and head downstairs and outside to the nearby Starbucks.
It’s literally next door to the hotel, but the short walk in the sun has my t-shirt sticking to me. As I wait in the Starbucks queue, I look behind me and notice former IBF and WBC cruiserweight champion Krzysztof Wlodarczyk, another entrant in the Super Series, also in the queue looking equally as uncomfortable with the heat.
After some food, I and the two writers I
travelled with decide to head to the rooftop pool at the hotel in search of some fighters. Once we get there, it’s as though we’ve just walked into a music video for a summer pop song.
Scantily clad men and women dance, drink and frolic in and around the swimming pool as upbeat music blares out of speakers. We awkwardly wander past a professional dance troupe and soon notice Joe Gallagher and his charge Callum Smith, one of the supermiddleweights of the tournament, sitting at a table.
“Tough job, isn’t it?” Gallagher jokes as we join them. The Mancunian – best known for his exploits as a trainer – also manages his fighters and is very, very pleased to have Callum in the tournament. Smith had a shot at the vacant WBC title lined up, but attempts to change the date and venue by his opponent, Anthony Dirrell, caused issues and so the unbeaten Liverpudlian finds himself in Monaco, mulling over who he will select later that evening.
Gallagher runs through all four options; Erik Skoglund, Jamie Cox, Avni Yildirim and Rob Brant. He purposely gives pros and cons for each, keeping his cards close to his chest. Speculation has been rife among our group over who will choose who – I remain convinced that Brant will be chosen first, by top seed George Groves, and Yildirim last.
Gallagher and Smith head off to get some food, leaving us to take in our surreal surroundings. We order a few drinks and almost weep at the prices, then look on in horror as everyone around us guzzles pink champagne as if it’s Lambrini.
I look over at the entrance to the poolside terrace and spot a familiar figure; Chris Eubank Snr, donning a tight training top and tracksuit bottoms, purveying the scene with an excited pout etched across his features. It doesn’t take long for someone to spot him and he’s soon surrounded by people asking for photographs and chatting to him. Eventually the crowd is satisfied and he leaves, but not without a quick jive to the music.
Soon after, Neil Sibley, Groves’ lawyer, comes and says hello. We discuss the tournament and try to glean any information about who George will choose.
“He says he’s going to choose when he’s in there,” Neil explains. We also chat about the rumours that he’ll pick fellow Englishman Cox, but Sibley gives nothing away.
The time then comes for us all to head back to our separate rooms and get suited and booted for the cocktail and champagne reception that’s being put on ahead of the Draft Gala. Before I get to my room, I spot Usyk and Klimas again and as I get closer, I see that they’re passing IBF cruiserweight champion Murat Gassiev. Usyk, terrifying at the best of times, begins growling – literally growling, like a wild animal – at Gassiev. Klimas tries to stop him, explaining that they are both champions and should show respect. Usyk continues to growl. Gassiev looks more amused than anything, and they continue in opposite directions.
Once I’ve squeezed into my suit, I walk past shops selling Ferraris and Rolls Royce’s over to the Grimaldi Forum, where the evening’s proceedings take place. The venue is decked out in Super Series branding, complete with a red carpet for the grand arrivals of the boxers. Once inside, we journalists are given a brief tour of the venue and even catch a sneak peek of the fighters taking part in a rehearsal of the Draft; Eubank is late though.
It’s not until the drinks are served that I realise I’ve barely eaten anything all day. There’s a seemingly unlimited amount of free alcohol on offer but all I can spot are a few plates of canapes being offered around by waitresses. My plan becomes simple; eat anything in sight.
After I’ve scoffed at least two and a half meals’ worth of finger food, we’re told that the fighters are about to ‘officially’ arrive on the red carpet. I walk back out into the balmy night and set up camp next to the carpet.
Usyk, no longer growling, shows his comedic side as he makes humorous poses and – bizarrely – hugs the cardboard backdrop. Smith, Cox and Groves are all smiles as they hit the red carpet, while Eubank
asks if one of the video cameras is recording. When he’s told it is, he dives into a rant about how his son will dominate the tournament. The 50-year-old is made for a setting like this and I very briefly wonder whether he can still make super-middleweight.
Once everyone’s inside I follow them in, and it doesn’t take long to notice the testosteronefuelled buzz filling the room as the fighters and their teams wait to enter the main theatre, where the draft takes place. Usyk, the top button on his shirt undone and his tie askew, resembles a naughty schoolboy as he stares at Gassiev across the room. Clearly, he knows who his main threat is.
We also hear how Cuban cruiserweights Yunier Dorticos and Mike Perez were reunited at the hotel earlier in the day, having not seen each other in 10 years, and they both wept and embraced.
After a slightly awkward wait, we’re taken into the theatre and sat in front of the stage. In the middle are four metal posts on a raised platform, symbolising a ring, and on both sides are four smaller platforms, intended for the eight participants in each tournament.
Melanie Winiger strides onto the stage and, with a sort of Eurovision charm, kicks the proceedings off. After a promotional video, and a rendition of the tournament’s theme song (a track named The Future is Now by Danish rock artist Jesper Binzer), the supermiddleweights are brought out one by one.
The format is a little cheesy, but riveting all the same. A seeded fighter stands on the central platform and names his choice. There’s a buzz of excitement as Groves picks Cox, and a slight wince as Eubank selects Yildirim, mispronouncing his first name in the process.
Once they’re done, the big men are wheeled out. Three cruiserweight world champions (and one WBA secondary champ) and two former titlists are included. None of them are crossover names, but to see them stood on the same stage is an undeniable thrill. It’s almost midnight, but I’m engrossed by it all; the drama, the bells and whistles, the ballsy optimism.
“I think this one here sets a new standard as it relates to tournaments, it really is the Champions League of boxing. You saw that tonight in the production, the presentation on stage, the whole set-up. This is first class,” Richard Schaefer, one of the promoters involved in running the Series, tells me after the Draft.
“I’ve been involved in boxing for a long time, I’ve done big fights, the biggest fights, but you know what? We have been missing quality like this. In boxing, we have never seen quality like this.”
It’s hard to argue with him. There are plenty of things that can go wrong, but there is serious backing behind this tournament and it has the potential to be a game-changer. If this inaugural Series goes well, it will move to other divisions and only continue to grow.
The fighters, promoters and organisers make their way back out into the night, their job for the week over. We follow, and decide to grab one last drink at the hotel bar. Behind us, sat at various different tables, are most of the fighters and their respective teams. Everything seems very cordial. For now.