Brian Hughes - Hit Man: The Thomas Hearns Story

INTRODUCTION

AS A SCHOOLBOY growing up in Manchester, England, in the 1940s and early 1950s, I loved to devour American boxing magazines. I would read them from cover to cover and immerse myself in the world of such wonderful craftsmen as Willie Pep, Sugar Ray Robinson and Archie Moore. I attempted to carry the lessons I learned from them into the ring and started to box in tournaments at the nearby American Air Force Base situated at Burtonwood, Warrington. After my own contests, I would sit at ringside and watch the other fighters. I became fascinated with the way that the American servicemen fought. They were so smooth, loose and relaxed, and delivered what I later learned were called combination punches.

One boxer that caught my eye, and left an indelible impression on me, was Sergeant William Cherry. The beautiful way in which he dipped to the sides of his opponents and made them miss was something I had never seen British fighters do. He would punish their carelessness by delivering left hooks to both head and body. He was breathtaking. I put American coaches on a pedestal, and determined that I would learn their secrets.

In 1961, I started coaching youngsters at Collyhurst Lads Club, located a mile outside Manchesters city centre. I wanted to learn as much as I could about the noble art and started to correspond with several world-renowned trainers, writing hundreds of letters. I put their advice to good use. I also vowed to myself that if I ever got the opportunity, I would pay a visit to America to learn all I could about how they taught their fighters to be so successful in the ring.

In the mid 1970s, I read about a Detroit gym and a dynamic boxing coach named Emanuel Steward who was rearing two outstanding young prospects named Mickey Goodwin and Thomas Hearns. I contacted Emanuel to ask about the techniques and systems he was employing and within days he replied and sent me information about Kronk. This started a long-distance friendship which continued for many years. He was obviously very busy, but in 1980, I finally managed to take two of my young protgs, Ensley Bingham and Lance Williams, to Detroit, where we spent three weeks working alongside Emanuel and his team. We were the first British group to go there.

On a sweltering day, we made our way to the Kronk Gym. It was a huge building that had seen better times. The gym was in the bowels of the building. What hit you straight away was the humidity and the heat coming from overhead pipes despite the summer conditions outside. Just sitting was torture, with sweat coming from ones body like a running tap. The gym was spartan, with a ring in the middle of the room, one speedball and one heavy punchbag. Yet it was packed solid. We found out that each boxer had his own speedball, and when it was his turn he would retrieve the ball from his training bag and screw it to the overhead stand, then remove it when he had finished. On the four sides of the ring, four coaches supervised the sparring, shouting instructions. It was very intimidating. New members, or visitors like us from England, were greeted with shouts from the coaches of New meat, new meat. We later found out that it meant, give them a welcome they wouldnt forget.

What I saw there simply amazed me. Most major gyms may have perhaps one or two world class stars within their team, but Emanuel Steward had, without any doubt, at least ten or twelve world class fighters and a seeming conveyor belt of youngsters being groomed to reach similar levels. I was privileged to witness some of the finest boxing talent in the world. I saw different styles, different movements and different punches delivered in combinations with lightning speed and accuracy. I also learned very quickly the American method of coaches using fight psychology on their aspiring boxers. There was a huge difference between a trainer and a coach (or teacher.) The trainer got the boxer prepared physically while the coach taught skills and technique. It was a fascinating and enlightening experience.

I made a number of visits to the Kronk, taking my own boxers there to gain experience and knowledge in this unique atmosphere, while all the time learning myself. During one trip, I was watching the sparring when the tall, stick-thin figure of Thomas Hearns appeared. After a brief bit of stretching he put on his sparring gloves and got in the ring to spar against a light-welterweight named Dujuan Johnson, who was known by the nickname Mr Excitement. I watched with total absorption as they boxed four rounds of extraordinary ferocity and skill. It was better than any fight I had ever seen.