Now I had a problem: take but do not hurt. He was now level with me so without hesitation I moved into him with a three-punch combination: left uppercut to the ribs, BOOM! Left hook to the chin, boom! Right uppercut to the head, BOOM! He folded. I held him on the floor with my knee while the police were called. I wasn’t famous at this time, I was still a promising local boxer. As he struggled underneath me, he turned his face to mine and snarled, ‘Do you know who I am? I’m going to kill you!’ I said, ‘Well, I’m Christopher Livingstone Eubank,’ and, crack!, I kicked him. There was a man watching who objected and said, ‘There’s no need for that,’ and, to be fair, there wasn’t, but that was just my boisterous nature at that time. The police took him away and I was later given a 999 Award for my actions.
Had he not hurt that old lady I would have gladly let him pass by. Once he hit her, however, I had absolutely no regard for his well-being. I never considered that I might hurt this guy. I knew how to punch correctly so my hands were undamaged, but then I never thought about hurting my hands even in the ring, I’ve always had faith. He was hit with three very hard punches, all thrown correctly, with complete resolve. If I had hesitated I might have got into a fight with the guy. As it was, I just thought, you’re going to sleep for a little while. And he did.
In August 2002 I performed a citizen’s arrest outside the Hilton hotel in London. This man had introduced himself to me as a prince and a businessman and I in turn had introduced him to a friend of mine, Rory McCarthy, who was keen to invest some money with him. After the money (the significant amount of £500,000) had been exchanged Rashid could not be found anywhere. My friend lost many assets and money because of this man and I felt partly responsible, as it was me who introduced them.
One Thursday night I was at dinner with Rory, who I had not seen in some time, but had to return to the Trader Vic’s restaurant, when I bumped into this man, who was coming out. I was shocked as I had been searching for him for over a year. I said, ‘Hello,’ not wanting to scare him, ‘Don’t move, I’ve been looking for you for a year. If you move I will have to restrain you.’ Despite my request he tried to get away, but I threw him to the ground and pinned him there. I called to some passers-by to call the police and when they arrived I handed him over to them. It was quite an ordeal and I suffered some minor injuries as he punched, kicked and attacked me with keys while attempting to escape.
With my 10-0 record, I had begun to attract attention from boxing insiders. I was well aware that the fights I wanted would not just present themselves to me. So I had let it be known that my eye was on a fight with then Commonwealth Champion, Nigel Benn. Benn was a vicious fighter of huge power, who at that point was undefeated in 20 fights. Moreover, the ferocity and venom of his victories had made him one of boxing’s most awesome new talents.
I was saying, ‘I can beat him, give me the fight.’ But so far, no one was giving me the credit I deserved, so my remarks were just laughed off. Part of their problem with me was that my style was very unconventional, no matter where you came from in the world, so they thought I would lose to Benn – indeed, most thought my statements were far too premature to be even taken seriously.
Some snipers even laughed at my lisp and ridiculed me for that, as if that had anything to do with my boxing ability. I did see a lady once, Melanie Bloor, who taught me how to pronounce my ‘s’s more clearly. After a fight, though, your mind and body are so ravaged that you often talk very fast and my lisp would become much more pronounced. Throughout my career, my feelings on the matter were like this: if you want to ridicule my lisp, okay, but that’s me, you’re letting yourself down. Some journalists quote me in articles using ‘th’ instead of’s’, but that is such a cheap, puerile, unsophisticated shot, school-yard stuff, not very clever. That type of criticism doesn’t really bother me, because I feel I can be understood when I talk and that is the most important thing. If anything, I prefer to think of it as an endearing quality. Plus I would say that they are the ones with the speech impediment because they don’t get across any view and I do.
Despite these petty criticisms, I had realised that I had a lot of flavour and that is what makes you ‘box-office’. It is fair to say I had only fought ten times thus far, but I knew the capability within me. My eleventh fight was against Simon Collins at York Hall, Bethnal Green. This fight was actually taken at six days’ notice, despite the fact that I had a very tough bout against Anthony Logan the following week. This Jamaican boxer was very hard; he came to the fight to load up and punch very hard. When you are faced with someone who wants to use their strength to beat you, you have to use your skill to beat them. Don’t try to match them with your own strength, even if you are stronger. That is not the way to progress.
I beat Simon Collins on a technical knockout in round four. I was always in control, but what interests me about this fight when I watch it on video is the remarks of the commentators. They showed that they had no understanding of me as a boxer or as a person. As I have said, I broke him down with skill, used the jab, moved around, stayed out of the way, then moved in and took him out. I did talk a little bit in this fight, sometimes you can’t help yourself, but it was not something that was deliberate.
Charlie Magri, who was commentating for ITV, was critical of my performance. You could hear the disregard in his voice, but he had to stop himself because he was quietly impressed. However, he made two major observations. Firstly, that I had my hands down too low and that Nigel Benn would mercilessly take advantage of such an exposed defence. I guarantee you that any man who had gone in with Nigel Benn at that time, in his prime, with his hands up in an orthodox defence, would have got knocked out. That stance means you’re not ready to fight, you’re ready to block. That was using too much of a textbook defence and, largely against the consensus of opinion in the game, I knew that you couldn’t fight Benn that way. I believed you would have to fight him in an unorthodox fashion: check and counter – everything would have to be unconventional because Benn was so vicious. Benn fought many opponents who had their hands up in a perfect boxing manual style. He knocked most of them out.
Magri made his second observation of note when Collins had just been stopped in the fourth. He pointed out that Benn would have taken Collins out in round one. My answer? Exactly. Benn would have steamed in there and probably finished it in less than 60 seconds. The point was this – what use is about like that for a fighter? If a boxer has no control, that is what happens. I preferred to gain more ring experience, work my moves, draw something positive from the match. I wanted to play chess. I needed to entertain the public and enhance my own abilities at the same time, and the only way to do that was by a prolonged contest. I would bring the opponent to the brink of being stopped then, just as people were craving for the stoppage, I would pull back to the ropes, look at the crowd and gesture. It used to drive them crazy! That was my flavour, that was box office. A first round win is very explosive but all you have achieved is a missed opportunity for target practice. First round wins are just headlines. Substance is more important.
At the same time, if you choose to take your time, you must be careful not to humiliate the man. If you do that, you can awaken the warrior in him and that, as I later found out in Watson 2, could be a dangerous scenario for both combatants. If you humiliate someone, you will only make yourself look bad. There is nothing the crowd hates more. So with Simon Collins, when the time came, I finished the fight. The end of this fight is a good example of the way I would move backwards in preparation for the finish. It is almost like a cobra recoiling before the fatal lunge. You know the end is near.
After the fight, I was interviewed on television and I said, ‘My trainer said if you have him on the hook, take him out. This is a nasty business, it’s not a game, we are in this as professional businessmen. It’s sport to the spectators, but not to pugilists like myself.’ This was the most public expression to date of my supposedly controversial views on my profession.
I was so sure I could beat Benn by now that I took on a world-class, highly-rated fighter in Anthony Logan. This was only my twelfth fight, so I was still classed by many observers as a novice. Logan had fought Benn for the Commonwealth Middleweight title and almost knocked him out. Then, just as Benn was teetering, he’d thrown a shot from down by his left ankle, a left hook that knocked Logan