This week is the ‘sweet science’ of Boxing
“Hey, everybody!” shouts former Irish boxing coach Nicolas Cruz to the class of white-collar boxers he now trains at the National Boxing Gym in Dublin. The group, who were engrossed in a round of shadow boxing, all direct their attention towards the fabled Cuban trainer who made Olympic medal winners out of Michael Carruth, Wayne McCullough and Francis Barrett. “We are being spied on by this man!” he adds, gesticulating amiably towards me.
I had arranged to go along to the class beforehand, but when I arrived I thought it might be an idea to do some undercover work, so I just joined in with the rest of the 15-strong class. We started shadow boxing about 20 minutes in, after warming up with laps of the hall and some unusual contortionist-style strength and flexibility exercises. I was throwing a few shots and generally trying to copy what the others were doing when the six-foot-plus trainer walked over, wearing a pair of focus mitts. He started to put me through my paces, looking for increasingly difficult combinations, but I was managing to hold my own.
“I think you have boxed before!” said the jovial Cruz of my modest efforts. The guy has a way of making you think you’re a contender, and by the end of the round I was harbouring hopes that he might declare me a boxing prodigy whom he would train to glory above and beyond that enjoyed by his former protégées. I thought it time to reveal myself as the incognito journalist. And with my aforementioned, shockingly embarrassing introduction to the class out of the way, we got back to business.
The origins of boxing are not easy to pin down. It really began with the first punch ever thrown, probably by some Neanderthal angry at his neighbour for making too much noise in the cave next door. But modern boxing started with the publication of the Marquis of Queensbury Rules in the mid 1800s. This set of guidelines roughly standardised a fighting style that was practiced in various forms practically everywhere. The sport later split into amateur and professional boxing, with the difference being that pro boxers fight more rounds than amateurs, forgo the protective headgear, and get paid. Amateur boxing, meanwhile, became an Olympic sport in 1904 and Cuba has come to dominate it. The all-conquering Caribbean island has claimed more gold medals than any other nation over the last 30 years.
In 1988 Ireland got the inside track on Cuba’s winning formula when they hired the services of Nicolas Cruz, one of many boxing coaches dispatched from Havana to train fighters in other countries. Cruz saw something in the Irish fighters he trained that he felt could bring them all the way.
“There is really something special in this country that has helped produce so many champions in so many sports,” he said. “Maybe it’s something from your past, your history. But it’s real and very powerful… The Irish have great spirit and are natural fighters. With the proper structure in place, there is absolutely no reason why you cannot be as strong as Cuba at boxing.”
His time with the Ireland set-up was something of a golden era for Irish amateur boxing, but it caused consternation back in Havana when Michael Carruth beat his trainer’s countryman and Olympic favourite Juan Hernandez Seirra in the 1992 games in Barcelona. The row escalated when Cruz defied a recall to Cuba in favour of helping to prepare the Irish team ahead of the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. The Cuban regime responded by denying him permission to return home, where his family still live.
In the years that followed, the Irish Amateur Boxing Association (IABA) adopted a new coaching team, but they have been unable to replicate the success seen during the Cruz years. One of Cruz’s former charges, Olympic silver medallist and former WBC World Champion Wayne McCullough, has since called on the IABA to reinstate the Cuban. “In 1992, Ireland picked up a gold and a silver in Barcelona with Nicolas in the corner,” the ‘Pocket Rocket’ said. “I believe he was the best coach Ireland ever had because he trained you hard and always taught you technique. While most people didn’t like his training method, at least he got results.”
Happily, Cruz is still training fighters – and at the absolute opposite ends of the spectrum. He has trained dissident republican prisoners detained in Portlaoise’s maximum security prison, while at the same time coaching a ‘White Collar Boxing’ team from Irish boxing’s HQ on Dublin’s South Circular Road. It didn’t take me long to decide which class I’d rather pop along to.
The twice-weekly Dublin classes are designed to attract and train white-collar workers who then compete against each other at gala charity events. I had visions of a room full of over-weight lawyers putting their headgear on backwards and fainting after 20 sit-ups, but if the class were in that condition on their first day under Cruz’s control, they certainly weren’t when I arrived. The group were all in decent shape and were able to last what was a pretty tough session that involved five two-minute rounds on heavy punchbags, plus a stunning number of press-ups, sit-ups and other abdominal exercises.
Boxing is a tough sport and I would rather have a run-in with a black belt in any number of Asian martial arts (with the noted exception of Muay Thai) than someone who had served their time learning the sweet science. It’s obviously hugely popular, with Irish fighters like John Duddy and Bernard Dunne building its profile here ever higher. The White Collar Boxing class – which is really open to everyone – is something that most people haven’t noticed yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Where else can someone with no experience walk into a gym and learn about a sport from a man who has proved himself capable of turning an Irish athlete into the best in the world?
I had arranged to go along to the class beforehand, but when I arrived I thought it might be an idea to do some undercover work, so I just joined in with the rest of the 15-strong class. We started shadow boxing about 20 minutes in, after warming up with laps of the hall and some unusual contortionist-style strength and flexibility exercises. I was throwing a few shots and generally trying to copy what the others were doing when the six-foot-plus trainer walked over, wearing a pair of focus mitts. He started to put me through my paces, looking for increasingly difficult combinations, but I was managing to hold my own.
“I think you have boxed before!” said the jovial Cruz of my modest efforts. The guy has a way of making you think you’re a contender, and by the end of the round I was harbouring hopes that he might declare me a boxing prodigy whom he would train to glory above and beyond that enjoyed by his former protégées. I thought it time to reveal myself as the incognito journalist. And with my aforementioned, shockingly embarrassing introduction to the class out of the way, we got back to business.
The origins of boxing are not easy to pin down. It really began with the first punch ever thrown, probably by some Neanderthal angry at his neighbour for making too much noise in the cave next door. But modern boxing started with the publication of the Marquis of Queensbury Rules in the mid 1800s. This set of guidelines roughly standardised a fighting style that was practiced in various forms practically everywhere. The sport later split into amateur and professional boxing, with the difference being that pro boxers fight more rounds than amateurs, forgo the protective headgear, and get paid. Amateur boxing, meanwhile, became an Olympic sport in 1904 and Cuba has come to dominate it. The all-conquering Caribbean island has claimed more gold medals than any other nation over the last 30 years.
In 1988 Ireland got the inside track on Cuba’s winning formula when they hired the services of Nicolas Cruz, one of many boxing coaches dispatched from Havana to train fighters in other countries. Cruz saw something in the Irish fighters he trained that he felt could bring them all the way.
“There is really something special in this country that has helped produce so many champions in so many sports,” he said. “Maybe it’s something from your past, your history. But it’s real and very powerful… The Irish have great spirit and are natural fighters. With the proper structure in place, there is absolutely no reason why you cannot be as strong as Cuba at boxing.”
His time with the Ireland set-up was something of a golden era for Irish amateur boxing, but it caused consternation back in Havana when Michael Carruth beat his trainer’s countryman and Olympic favourite Juan Hernandez Seirra in the 1992 games in Barcelona. The row escalated when Cruz defied a recall to Cuba in favour of helping to prepare the Irish team ahead of the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. The Cuban regime responded by denying him permission to return home, where his family still live.
In the years that followed, the Irish Amateur Boxing Association (IABA) adopted a new coaching team, but they have been unable to replicate the success seen during the Cruz years. One of Cruz’s former charges, Olympic silver medallist and former WBC World Champion Wayne McCullough, has since called on the IABA to reinstate the Cuban. “In 1992, Ireland picked up a gold and a silver in Barcelona with Nicolas in the corner,” the ‘Pocket Rocket’ said. “I believe he was the best coach Ireland ever had because he trained you hard and always taught you technique. While most people didn’t like his training method, at least he got results.”
Happily, Cruz is still training fighters – and at the absolute opposite ends of the spectrum. He has trained dissident republican prisoners detained in Portlaoise’s maximum security prison, while at the same time coaching a ‘White Collar Boxing’ team from Irish boxing’s HQ on Dublin’s South Circular Road. It didn’t take me long to decide which class I’d rather pop along to.
The twice-weekly Dublin classes are designed to attract and train white-collar workers who then compete against each other at gala charity events. I had visions of a room full of over-weight lawyers putting their headgear on backwards and fainting after 20 sit-ups, but if the class were in that condition on their first day under Cruz’s control, they certainly weren’t when I arrived. The group were all in decent shape and were able to last what was a pretty tough session that involved five two-minute rounds on heavy punchbags, plus a stunning number of press-ups, sit-ups and other abdominal exercises.
Boxing is a tough sport and I would rather have a run-in with a black belt in any number of Asian martial arts (with the noted exception of Muay Thai) than someone who had served their time learning the sweet science. It’s obviously hugely popular, with Irish fighters like John Duddy and Bernard Dunne building its profile here ever higher. The White Collar Boxing class – which is really open to everyone – is something that most people haven’t noticed yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Where else can someone with no experience walk into a gym and learn about a sport from a man who has proved himself capable of turning an Irish athlete into the best in the world?
