The Beltline: How do you stop fame going to a boxer’s head?

IN her most recent novel, Beautiful World, Where Are You, Irish author Sally Rooney wrote: “Every day I wonder why my life has turned out this way. I can’t believe I have to tolerate these things – having articles written about me, and seeing my photograph on the internet, and reading comments about myself. When I put it like that, I think: that’s it? And so what? But the fact is, although it’s nothing, it makes me miserable, and I don’t want to live this kind of life. When I submitted my first book, I just wanted to make enough money to finish the next one. I never advertised myself as a psychologically robust person, capable of withstanding extensive public inquiries into my personality and upbringing.

I genuinely believe that individuals who actively seek fame, especially those who crave it incessantly, have underlying psychological issues. It is disconcerting to witness the widespread presence of such individuals in our culture, where they are not only deemed normal but also admired and desired. This reflects the alarming extent of our distorted societal condition. These fame-seekers possess deep-seated problems, and when we idolize and try to emulate them, it negatively impacts us as well.

This passage, written by Rooney but delivered by her protagonist, returned to me when watching the first two episodes of the BBC documentary Stable: The Boxing Game, a slick and enlightening account of the daily business at Shane McGuigan’s boxing gym. Specifically, it came to mind towards the end of episode one, when Barry McGuigan, Shane’s father, spoke with typical candour and insight about the perils of fame. “There’s no doubt about it, fame is a drug,” he said. “If you think that it’s not, you’re lying to yourself. Because it is – it is a drug. You want to be successful. You want to please people. You want people to go, ‘Wow, look at how good that was!’ That gives you a buzz.”

Similar to Rooney, McGuigan has encountered and still encounters fame as a result of his accomplishments in a solitary and occasionally isolating career. When Barry first began his journey in boxing, fame was likely not his ultimate aim or dream. However, looking back at history, it becomes evident that fame was not only a likely outcome but also a formidable opponent and challenge for McGuigan, depending on how he managed it.

The documentary aimed to convey the message that people often recognize Adam Azim, a determined 19-year-old prospect, wherever he goes. As we listened to McGuigan, we observed Azim driving to a bar to meet friends. During the car ride, Azim, who has a professional record of 11-0, expressed to the camera: “Whenever I go anywhere, someone recognizes me. Many people take pictures while I’m simply sitting or doing something. It’s becoming more intense, but I am prepared for it. My main goal is to be a role model.”

Azim is fully committed to his gym sessions, where he trains alongside his coach, Shane McGuigan.

The unstoppable nature of the inevitable cannot be denied, as Azim’s words, spoken when he was just 19 years old, could easily apply to any other young warrior who once promised to utilize their fame wisely. Unfortunately, it falls into the category of things, such as childbirth or grief, that one cannot truly comprehend or speak about authoritatively unless they have personally experienced it.

Azim, who has yet to venture beyond the boundaries of the boxing world, finds it simple to heed the cautionary tales of others and promise to never become overconfident and suffer the same fate. However, it is common for boxers to still stumble into similar pitfalls, despite being aware of their approach and the consequences that lie within. This phenomenon can be attributed to several factors, one being that boxing is an individual sport where participants desire and expect all the admiration for themselves rather than sharing it. Additionally, those entrusted with handling the fame and praise that comes with boxing are often young, immature, and lacking in education. While they may be well-versed in throwing textbook punches, they have not necessarily learned how to control their emotions, resist temptation, and navigate interpersonal relationships within the confines of a boxing gym.

In there, the gym, boxers tend to be alone; alone with their thoughts, alone with their fears. If lucky, as shown in Stable, they might be surrounded by coaches and fellow boxers, but even then the company is largely manufactured; predicated on their success as a boxer and their status in that room. In other words, by nature boxers are climbers – rankings, records, and purse money – and are better at connecting with punches than with people in the real world. At every turn, after all, they are reminded that boxing is the loneliest sport and to trust no one. They tell themselves, moreover, that they are the best. The strongest. The fittest. The most powerful. They then look for confirmation of this from those who surround them – never the ideal foundation on which to form a relationship – and usually receive it, particularly if compliments lead to favours, ringside tickets, or a taste of fame.

However, this leaves the trainer in a state of conflict. On one hand, they desire success and fame for their boxer, but on the other hand, they fear that achieving these goals may transform the boxer into someone unrecognizable and detached from their original self. While this may not be true in every case, it often explains why the bond between a coach and a boxer deteriorates over time and why the admiration of outsiders and yes-men eventually becomes more enticing to the boxer than the approval of the one person whose opinion should hold the most significance – their coach.

Shane McGuigan expressed, “With all the buzz surrounding Adam, it’s inevitable that he will be propelled into the realm of pay-per-view stardom and gain global recognition. I anticipate he won’t be able to go unnoticed while walking down the street. However, considering his young age of 19 (at the time of the documentary), it falls upon me to regulate the pace and ensure things progress at a manageable speed.”

Typically, you would anticipate hearing such caution when it comes to either a budding contender encountering a future adversary or getting their initial opportunity to compete for a championship. Nevertheless, in today’s world, the struggle to maintain a fighter’s humility has become exceedingly challenging for perceptive boxing trainers. With numerous avenues to discover public opinions about oneself, and the convenience of mistakenly believing in one’s remote importance or uniqueness, prevailing in this struggle has also become increasingly crucial.