Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting!

The day has arrived... it's been three months in coming and one hell of a journey, and I can honestly say I will never be the same again after this! But before I go into the ring, and whether I win or lose, I want to shout out some thanks to those who made this all possible... 

That was then...

Firstly, to Cameron "Double-Trouble" Fraser-Shaw, who hastily arranged a ticket for me to go and watch him in action last October. Little did he know at the time the chain reaction that would have! And for all the advice and support he has given me since then - thank you, brother!


Secondly, to Kumar from SSE Marine Logistics, whose table it was I found myself sitting on, and who - on a whim - bid in the auction for the spot on the squad I now occupy. He welcomed me like a friend that night, and his generosity was that big push I needed to set me on this path. You are a true gentleman, Kumar, and I look forward to a dram or two of Scotch with you soon!

Next, to the whole team at Vanda Boxing who put themselves out there organising the event - Stephen and Philip in particular for putting up with my barrage of emails! And of course, the coaches... they put us through hell at times, but never once did they ever let me feel like I couldn't make it. Alexis especially, thank you for always seeming to have a positive comment just when I needed it!

...and this is now!

All my friends and family who have supported me, either by being there tonight, by donating to the charity, or just giving me your best wishes. I know that my doing this surprised most (if not all) of you, and there has been a lot of piss taking (a LOT!), but you've all had my back and kept encouraging me. Especially thanks to Molly's Malone's Table 13 crowd, for all the banter and often conflicting advice!!


My beautiful wife Joanna, who responded to my enrolement with a raised eyebrow, but who has been an absolute rock in encouraging me and supporting me (except when leaving huge amounts of chocolate in the fridge). And of course, my boys, who have no idea what's actually going on but think it's hilarious when I am shadow-boxing at home.

And then there's the squad... let's start with Jim and Jo, who I have known for many years. It was a bit of a relief to have friends in this with me from day one, and the encouragement they have given both verbally and just by going through it side by side has been invaluable. Then there's Rocco, the two Barrys (Barries?), Aman, Joe, Oli, Craig, Jesper, Canaan, James, Denis, Natasha, Geoffrey, Sam, Angela and Jon, all of who I have gotten to know to different degrees over the 13 weeks. The level of support and cameraderie I have seen within the squad has been fantastic... and I look forward to hanging out with you all in non-gym locations once the dust settles!

Dangermouse...?

Did I miss one...?

Ah, yes... my opponent, Aran. We got to know each other early on, and I'm certain we will continue a friendship afterward. He brews his own beer, for one thing! Long before we realised we would be fighting each other he was offering me words of encouragement (wonder if he's regretting that now?), and since the weigh in we have shared some cracking banter / trash-talk. Neither of us will be going easy on the other tonight, but I know we'll have good drink together once we are done... and I like the fella enough to have prepared a care-package for him, for afterwards!!

Care Package for Aran...

Well, that's it from me until the fight is over... good luck to all my fellow contenders, and to Aran let me just say - may the best Guv'nor win!

Going Out on a Limbo

It's been a strange week.

With the weigh in over and done and the anticipation and uncertainty of knowing my opponent behind me, I have been left with this surreal feeling of being in limbo. The sparring has stopped, the workouts have become lighter, general exercise less frequent - even my diet has changed again, in order to prepare for the fight. And without the intensity it almost feels like everything is over and done, in a strange kind of anti-climax...

Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. There are just five days left until I step into that ring. And just because I need to take my foot off the gas physically, to ensure I am rested, I haven't stopped thinking about Saturday night and all the ways it could play out. I have been reading how other boxers - professional and amateur - prepare for fight night: exercises for the final week that keep you tuned up without overdoing it; precisely timetabled diet regimes for the day itself; ways of psyching yourself up before the bout; and so much more. I have been weighing up different strategies used by previous White Collar boxers, in order to maximise my efficiency in the ring. I have also started monitoring my sleep patterns, and realised that a combination of two kids, plus family visiting, plus late nights at work, plus overthinking about the boxing (!) has not been doing me any favours... so perhaps taking a hotel room the night before the fight may bring me some calm and rest?

Or maybe I should just stop thinking about it all so much? Easier said than done, especially with everyone I meet wanting to ask me about it...! I could write a book with all of the advice I have been given just in the last five days alone, although what gets me more are the people who adopt a fighting stance in front of me and ask me to "show them what I've got"! I am now at the stage where I am willing Saturday 23rd to come quickly... not because I am eager to get it over with, I am just frustrated by the repetition of the wait, and the banality of not giving it 100% all of the time.

Like I said, it's been a strange week. And it's only going to get stranger!

With Enemies Like These, Who Needs Friends?

In the first few weeks of training everyone was trying to work out who they might be up against. Subtle questions regarding how much we each weighed was a good indicator, but it also seemed worth looking at who the coaches were pairing us up with, even just for skill work rather than sparring. As such I was utterly convinced I knew who my opponent would be.

I would be a liar if I said I wasn't nervous all day last Friday as we waited for the Weigh In that evening. It seemed strange to my friends - after all, this wasn't the actual fight! But I could barely eat all day and found myself checking my watch four or five times an hour. There was something about that evening that was suddenly going to make this whole endeavour much more real than it had ever seemed before, and everything was about to come into sharp focus.

I presumed that I would be fighting B. for very good reasons. He was only a little older than me (and we are the two oldest boxers taking part), of a similar height and build, and without any background in boxing at all. And when coach joked the first time we paired up "you do realise you will be fighting each other on the night", that just sealed it for me. So I started keeping track of his progress, where he was stronger than me (he was definitely quicker and with a heavier hit) and where I felt I dominated (I seemed to have more aggression, and was always moving in close and forcing him to move back).

The manager of the venue, The Exchange, got to see the slideshow that would accompany the Weigh In ahead of time, and asked if I wanted to know who I had been drawn against. I declined, as I wanted to savour the anticipation and uncertainty, but I did ask him to tell me was which bout I was in, just so I could be ready... Bout 6, just after the halfway mark, and by which point ten of the other boxers would already have been named. Assuming one of the female bouts would be in each half, that would leave myself and seven other male boxers by the time my bout was announced - still too many to have an accurate guess at my opponent!

For several sessions this went on, and even when we were not paired up for anything I would pay close attention to how B's skills were developing. And then one evening we were asked to weigh ourselves. It turns out that no matter how close we had been in weight and build on day one, we had taken very different paths during training. I had shed my fat at a ridiculous speed, but only become skinnier and lighter. He, on the other hand, had turned much of his into muscle. All of a sudden we were no longer in the same weight class, and I had to cast my eyes around once more to try and determine who I would be matched up with.

Some of the regulars in Molly Malone's collared me Friday lunch time. "Who do you think you'll get?"; "Do you have a preferred opponent?"; "You must have some idea!"... but I genuinely did not. I knew who it would absolutely not be, but I had trimmed myself down into the middle of the pool where everyone is pretty close. That afternoon I was distracted weighing up the pros and cons of each of my potential matches...

What I saw worried me a little. All of a sudden I was within weight of all these guys who were ten to fifteen years younger than me, naturally fitter, and with way more experience in the gym. It was at that point I had to switch off from thinking tactically about exploiting my opponent's weaknesses and really start to focus much, much more on just improving myself. After all, you can't tailor your preparations to several wildly different fighters... 

Even the best laid plans rarely go without a hitch, and despite all my efforts to be surprised someone leaked me my opponent's name within five minutes of me arriving at The Exchange. It turns out to be someone who even just two weeks ago I would not have considered a possibility, although the thought had started to cross my mind very recently. He's a guy I get on with well, who organised the recent Charity Pub Quiz with me, and who could very easily be a good friend - and our wives met that evening, and immediately got on like a house on fire. But for now, we have to get used to the idea of knocking lumps out of each other.

People have asked me since, what is he like in the ring, and what are my own chances against him. In truth, I haven't a clue. I was never once pitted against him in sparring, nor did it occur to me until recently that he might be an opponent and I should be paying attention to him. From what I have seen, he seems disciplined and determined, and pretty strong... but everyone has an Achilles heel. I just have to last long enough to find his!

So I raise a glass to my friend / temporary enemy - may we both hold our heads high and proud both before and after the bout! Oh, and I wish you a speedy recovery from the damage I am going to inflict on April 23rd... ;-)

Changing Of Weight Whilst Waiting On Change

Almost a month has passed since my last post (apologies for that, it's been a busy time), and a lot has changed. I am not the man I used to be, and feel like I have become so much more alive. Fitter, stronger, more disciplined and far more confident, I am so much more than I have ever been, in every respect except one... body mass.

AleXXL - Dec 31st 2015

On January 1st of this year I rather masochistically weighed myself. I had been a glutton over Christmas and New Year, and I think I was almost glad to only be 94kg. I was by no means morbidly obese, but the buttons on my waistcoats were straining, and bending down to tie my shoes was bothersome enough that I had purchased some slip-ons. In the back of my mind I knew I was up for the White Collar Boxing, and would have to do something to get in shape... but it still seemed far away and unreal, and there was little I could do to motivate myself. Then, on January 9th, I went to Vanda Boxing Club for the briefing...

We were only in there for half an hour, but I looked around and saw a room full of people who were mostly a good few years younger and a damn sight fitter than I was, and the thought of facing one of them in the ring filled me with dread. But having been full of beer and bravado over the festive season I had already been milking a mini celebrity status amongst incredulous colleagues and clients, and if I backed out I would never live it down. And so I made a commitment to myself, right there and then, that I would walk what I had talked, and walk it right.

I knew nothing about training, and had never felt comfortable in a gym, so I decided to wait until our official training sessions began so I could learn what I should be doing properly, from a coach. In the meantime I could still go running a couple of times a week, like I used to when I was younger, and I could change my dietary habits, so I stopped drinking alcohol that very day and started using a nutrition app to balance out my diet. Over the next two weeks the weight just melted off me, and by the time we went back to Vanda for the first official training session on January 25th I was down to 88.5kg.

Slimmin' it - Mar 12th, 2016

Over time I came to realise that the diet and exercise regime was benefitting me in other areas as well, and not just in my weight. My eczema all but cleared up, my energy levels and concentration improved, my stamina at work and on stage went up several notches, and in short I began to feel more and more comfortable in my own skin. My clothes, however, were another matter, and by mid-March I found myself having to shop for new trousers and t-shirts... only to have to do so again this week after they had become too baggy!

Now, you may be thinking that I have gone too far, that I am doing myself more harm than good - after all, training to box is not simply about weight loss, and some of my fellow contenders have been bulking up whilst I have been slimming down. But the sluggish, breathless person I was in January needed this, not just for fitness but for pride of achievement. Because back then I expected to be, as the title of this blog suggests, a punchbag. Now? At 77kg I am leaner, faster and more agile... and a genuine contender.

But I'm not the only one. I looked around the room again on Monday, almost three months after that first briefing session, and the difference I saw in my fellow boxers - my fellow contenders - was nothing short of amazing. There are the obvious first-glance physical changes we notice - a more chiselled jawline, or toned stomach muscles, or bulkier arms - but also some big changes in attitude and discipline, which are getting more noticeable every session. In January I am sure I was not the only one writing himself off, but now? There are naturally stronger and weaker fighters, but I don't think there is a single person in the squad who could not win on the night.

This makes me both proud to be a part of the squad, but also apprehensive as to who my opponent will be. Yes, despite much theorising, most of us still don't know which of our friends are about to become our enemy... but that wait is almost over! Tonight is the official Weigh In, where we will find out who is fighting who, and in what order. Tonight, we put a face to the trepidations of the last ten weeks. Tonight, we cast our minds back to all the times we genuinely helped each other in training, in the hope that we may recall some weakness that can be exploited. Tonight we become red or blue, and battle lines will be drawn.



Tonight - everything changes.


The Weigh In is open to the public, so why not head down tonight (April 8th) to The Exchange in Asia Square from 7pm to see just how damn tough the squad is looking, and find out who will be fighting who...

Show me the money!

Surgery at the CSC

There are a lot of perfectly legitimate reasons not to attend the White Collar Boxing on 23rd April. Maybe you're out of town; maybe you can't afford it; maybe you have an ethical issue with the sport itself. That's fine, I get it, and whilst I have encouraged those who are interested to come along I have not beaten anyone around the head with demands that they support me. The one thing that irks me, however, is those who say they won't go because "not all the money goes to charity, so it's clearly a scam".

Patients at the CSC

At the first briefing at Vanda before any of the training began we were told - very, very clearly - that there is a distinct dividing line between the commercial aspect of putting on the show and the charity aspect of raising money for the Childrens Surgical Centre in Cambodia. That line exists to remove any ambiguity about where the cash is going - and the ticket price for the fight? That is not a charity donation, and no-one is claiming that it is. That pays for the night itself. Because, you know, this stuff doesn't happen for free!

Physiotherapy at CSC

Working in my industry I have been involved in many charity events and know enough about organising them that I could write an essay outlining why it costs money to raise money... in fact, I pretty much did write an essay as my first draft, but realised you would all be bored stupid by it! And that is one of the key things here - keeping people interested. No-one goes to a charity paint-drying event, do they? They still want to be entertained, have a good night out, have some fun. And all those things that make the fun - in our case, the booze and food, the sound system, the lights, the waiter service, the boxing ring, etc., etc. - they all cost money.

A patient of the CSC

So how exactly is this a charity event? Well, on the night itself there is an auction and other activities designed to raise money, every cent of which goes to the charity. But long before that, before even the training starts, it is made clear to all of the boxers that we have a responsibility to engage people in raising money - and believe me when I say that Vanda are not remotely shy about letting us know when we are not doing enough! On which note... myself and one of the other boxers will be organising a fun charity pub quiz at Molly Malone's on March 31st. Full details will be posted on this blog soon, so stick it in your diary and we will see you there!

Ophthalmology at the CSC

I also strongly encourage all of you to do what you can to support the Children's Surgical Centre in Cambodia by donating through my First Giving page, here - all money through this page goes directly to the charity, but do note it is in US dollars. If you would prefer, you can pass me any donation and I will pay it into the First Giving page under your name (or a pseudonym if you are shy). For more info on what the money goes to support, please check out the video on my "The Good Cause" page.

Please consider a donation...

Finally - to anyone who says they don't support the WCB because the ticket price does not go to the charity, I hereby challenge you to put your money where your mouth is and donate the value of a ticket to the charity without having the fun of attending the event... 

Hitting that wall...

I think the weekend started badly when I decided to cycle home from work on Friday night, although it seemed a good idea at the time. Running a pub means late nights, especially at the weekend, and on a Friday night trying to get a cab after the trains have stopped can be a long, tedious experience. So why not cycle home and get some extra exercise in on the way...?

When I was first nominated to join the White Collar Boxing the first thing I did was call my then 8-month pregnant wife to seek her blessing. She had just one question for me - "Does that mean you won't be drinking for a few months?"

The ride home was uneventful, with less traffic on the roads than on my other trips, and when I got home I felt kind of self-satisfied and a little buzzed. That buzz kept me awake a bit longer than I could have done with, but when I finally fell asleep it was a good, solid, deep sleep... so deep that I slept through my 5.45am alarm...

During the initial weeks of training my wife would encourage me to break my diet, with a "go on, you've worked so hard - one beer won't hurt!", until I finally asked her why she seemed so unsupportive of my efforts. She responded simply that: a) she wasn't sure of my commitment; and b) she thought maybe that offering me 'rewards' for my hard work was one way to show support... so we talked through what she could do to help me stay on track, and since then she has been a total rock.

Not my real alarm clock. Why
would I take a picture of that?

When I did wake up it was 6.42am, and I was due at the gym in twenty minutes. For the first time since starting the WCB I actually toyed with missing the session, but my now-supportive wife chipped in with words of encouragement. Well, that'll teach me! Still disoriented and sleepy, I tried to do some subtle stretches on the train, but the rocking motion wasn't helping and I swear I almost dozed off upright at one stage. I then power-walked from the station to the gym, trying to put on my wraps as I went, with only varying degrees of success. 

I know some of the other contenders are still enjoying Friday nights out, so when we were told that this particular Saturday morning would be a sparring session I felt pretty optimistic. I knew I would have had my own late night, but assumed my sobriety would give me a clear-headed advantage in the ring. However, when I arrived to find them all at various stages - some prepping with partners or on the bags; some in the ring sparring; some, having already sparred, stretching and dissecting their performance - everyone seemed pumped. Everyone except me.

I grabbed a couple of minutes on a bag, and one of the other lads took pity and paired with me for some warm up work, but I had only been in the gym five minutes when I was told to put the headgear on and get in the ring - last man up, so more than a few eyes on me.

John C. Reilly. Just because I
needed a quote about being
unprepared. Cheers John!

"Being unprepared makes me nervous. I'm old-fashioned show folk."

John C. Reilly

I'm old-fashioned show folk myself. After years of acting and playing music, I am still uncomfortable with improvisation and like to know my lines / lyrics backwards before going anywhere near a stage. Much like Mr Reilly, being unprepared makes me nervous - and, boy, did the nerves hit me on entering that ring. I looked across and recognised my opponent as someone I had done some pair work with a week prior. I remembered him having a fairly solid punch (and being 10 kilos heavier than me), but being a little slow and lacking aggression. I could still feel butterflies, but maybe this wouldn't be too bad...

How wrong can you be? Pardon my language, but he battered the f*** out of me. I was totally gun-shy and kept turning away in fear, which only served to take my eyes off where I should be punching and, more crucially, where his next swing was coming from. I was spot on about him having a solid punch, but his speed was more than adequate to despatch me, and there was certainly no timidness in his desire to do so. That was quite possibly the longest two minutes of my life...

And this is what I drank.
Because if I am going to
break my drouth, it won't
be for any old pish!

I left training that day dejected. It all just seemed like it was too much, all that hard work and effort, training and maintaining an appropriate diet, for what? The chance for pain and humiliation? I sank back into some comfort food, had a whisky (just the one, honest!), and spent the rest of the weekend wallowing in self-pity.

My wife occasionally makes dumb comments. It's one of her most endearing qualities to me, and makes me laugh. But I laugh not because she is a muppet, but because I find it funny to hear daft things come from someone so incredibly smart... smart enough to know how to manipulate me, in particular!

No matter how hard I tried, the black cloud hovering over me ruined a rare date night on Saturday, and threatened to derail a family cinema outing on the Sunday. But all throughout the turbulence, my wife kept dropping subtle hints about the people who were supporting me and how proud she was of me. She cut me some slack with food choices at dinner, but used healthy cinema snacks for our son to guilt me away from jumbo sized popcorn. She brought up her own post-pregnancy efforts in the gym, and used them to enquire about my future training. She effectively got me back on that horse... and I am not sure I could have done it without her.

Monday's session was tough, but mostly because I was still shaking off the residue of my disenchantment. Then on Wednesday we were back to sparring again... and imagine my horror at finding myself paired with someone 20 kilos heavier than! But this time was different. I felt ready - not to go in there and win, but to go in and learn. Sure, he got in some good hits, but this time I actually took them and didn't turn tail. And I got a few decent jabs in myself, earning a modicum of praise from the Coach at my improvement. 

I couldn't find an appropriate
Sun Tzu quote, so I went for
the next best thing...

I have a long way to go, there is no doubt of that. But one thing I need to do is what my wife resolved to do a couple of weeks back - to stop viewing the WCB as something I am merely trying to do and get behind the fact that it is something I am wholeheartedly doing. After all, sometimes the best lessons are learned from someone who can be a bit of a muppet!

"Do... or do not. There is no try."

Master Yoda

See what I mean?

Abstinence makes the heart grow stronger?

"I distrust camels, and anyone else who can go a week without a drink."

Joe E. Lewis

Getting more exercise, learning more technique, eating a better diet... one of the first things we were told when joining the WCB was that no matter how well we do in these three vital areas, it would all be futile if we were going out and getting boozed up every other night. I suppose technically alcohol consumption would come under the "better diet" label, but it's amazing how well drinkers can compartmentalise that particular activity!

This was me coming first in a race that
combined running with drinking.
Seriously.
NOT what I will be doing in training...

The immediate assumption is that stopping drinking should be very difficult for me, bearing in mind I manage a pub! After all, the Monday to Friday office crowd can choose not to go to a bar after work, and instead just go home, but I have to be in the thick of it, surrounded by booze (and boozers), with temptation quite literally there all the time. And there is some truth in this - especially on a quiet afternoon when one of the regulars wants to buy you a drink, or one of the suppliers comes down and wants to get a round in for your team. However, given the right mindset sobriety could also be seen as easier for me than others...

For one thing, I don't tend to drink at home, unless we have company. I have various bottles around the place, but years of drinking at work and then getting home at hours too ridiculous to warrant more alcohol have conditioned me to not even consider home-drinking. The office based crowd may be able to avoid the pub, but what temptation do they face at home - especially if no-one is there to see them!!

Secondly, even though I could drink at work, the fact that I am still at work tends to give me a bit of restraint with it. Having worked in a "normal" job before, I know how easy it is to get "on the lash" on a Friday night, but when you are overseeing everyone else's enjoyment in your pub you need a degree of clarity and detachment - don't get me wrong, I have a lot of fun and regularly party with our guests, but always with one eye on the job! To stop drinking altogether is just an extension of that restraint...

That said, I do need to be careful. One former White Collar Boxer advised me not to go all tee-total, as she had tried that and been doing rather well at it until a couple of weeks before the fight when she spectacularly imploded in a three-day bender. Her take is that this did her more harm than perhaps allowing herself one day a week for a couple of glasses of wine, and I get that. However, the downside of working in a pub is how easy it is for that "couple of glasses" to become a bottle, or that once a week to become once a day. No going "on the lash", no destroying my training in one fell swoop, but a gradual erosion of everything I am working towards... frankly, it's not worth the risk to me.

But I am still a realist. I manage Singapore's oldest Irish pub, and right in the middle of my training I will be faced with our biggest time of the year - St Patrick's Day. Four days of mayhem, with the road outside the pub closed for a Street Festival, great live music on stage, and lots and lots of Guinness... I have already set aside one day of that event as the day I will have a pint or two of the black stuff. Not too much, as the event is far to big to oversee whilst inebriated! But as the manager of a 21 year old Irish institution in Singapore, I can't NOT raise a glass to Paddy's Day!

Besides, I already know I don't actually need to drink, and the next day will be back to training, and back to reality!

"Reality is an illusion created by a lack of alcohol"

N.F. Simpson

Who am I kidding? I could murder a pint right now.