In Conversation With Mark Hobson

BEFORE Twitter and Facebook took over, boxing fans could take to the forums that were knocking about to see rare glimpses of fighters knocking a few words out and interacting with fans. People within the trade would interact with each other, usually in a friendly or jovial way, but every so often spats broke out in those proto-social media days and when the spats spilled over they dovetailed into either a fight-to-be or a fight that was signed when the arguments would intensify.

It is hard to believe now, but David Haye and Chris Aston, then trainer of former British, Commonwealth and WBU cruiserweight Champion Mark Hobson (27-5-1, 14 KOs), who was named as a Haye opponent in 2005, went back-and-forth a few times on a forum to add a bit of spice to a contest that fell through. Hobson’s choice was to step back from the arguments in the hope that he would get to settle things in the ring with Haye.

Hobson was on something of a roll at the time, he won the vacant Commonwealth title by stopping Abdul Kadou in four in 2003 then added the British belt later that year with a decision win over Rob Norton. Successful defences over Tony Moran (KO 3), Lee Swaby (TKO 6) and Bruce Scott (W12) led to a WBU shot against Enzo Maccarinelli in 2006, a decision loss in which he pushed Maccarinelli all the way. Despite sitting out 2005 waiting for Haye, Hobson went for it with four fights in 2006, but in retrospect he believes it led to his early burnout and retirement.

Alas, the twice-mooted Haye fight never materialised for Hobson and it was one of a few occasions in the boxer’s career when he came close to doing bigger things only to be thwarted by either circumstance, the Haye fight falling through, or defeat to Maccarinelli in March 2006. The he was wiped out in a single round in their much-anticipated rematch later that year, which in true Frank Warren style took place close to midnight on the aftercard of Joe Calzaghe’s tepid win over Sakio Bika.

Hobson’s career was certainly an up-and-downer. It was always likely to pan out that way for him. Hobson and Aston set out together on their journey in 1997 only to discover that in professional boxing learning on the job can be a costly, damaging experience.

At the time, Hobson was happy to be part of a new team on the block, content to gain experience alongside his trainer in the hope that they would break new ground. It was a long-shot and as Hobson told Boxing-Social, it was one that brought him some highs as well as lows.

“I got into boxing early on — I just liked it,” he said. “My mum used to take me to the gym. Most people will tell it was their dad who got them into boxing, but my dad had a boozer, so he moved around a lot. To be honest, I didn’t see much of him after I was six-years-old, but my dad did used to fight in the air force — I suppose you just end up finding your way to these things.”

“My boxing ended up costing my mum one of her marriages,” he added. “She was married again after my dad, but she was driving me up to the gym every night over in Dewsbury. That ended up costing her. I don’t often say it enough, but huge respect to my mum. I’ve got kids myself, so I can’t imagine spending four hours a night in the gym after doing the tea then getting back about nine or 10 at night. My gym was the next town away, so we had a bit of a drive.

“In the end, her new husband got jealous as she was with the lads all night. She’d work in the office, taking subs from the lads and doing all that type of work. I wouldn’t be talking to you now without my mum getting my arse down to the gym every night. My dad used to get the pat on the back from people because he’s the dad, but it was down to my mum.

“I was brought up in a boxing gym. I was a bit fucking wayward, you know, so she took me there and they wouldn’t take any bullshit from me. They taught me boxing, self-respect, discipline. You don’t even realise at the time the messages that you are getting taught. You only realise once you lose boxing that it was giving you the structure some people need in their lives. It is an old, boring story of, ‘Oh, I could have been in jail’, but it is real for me. I had ADHD, didn’t sleep, got into trouble and was hyper. I needed that channelling from people I respected. To me, my boxing coach was like God. You don’t always get that at home or at work.”

Hobson also had an addictive personality and a need to prove himself. These factors parlayed their way into a sport and a game that you don’t just play — you have to live, breathe and sleep it. However, for many fighters sleep doesn’t come easy and once they leave the sport they are left floundering without any support from the organisations and people that used to take money from their purses.

“The problem with boxing is that you are left feeling empty when it is over, and you don’t even realise that,” Hobson explained. “I’ve talked to you about drugs before, but I was addicted to boxing before I’d even tried drugs. You go into the gym, have a spar at night and then you feel like a million dollars coming out, but you can’t sleep. It is a drug.

“When I left boxing, it was my time to leave. I was burnt out. My team around me was inexperienced. I came from an amateur gym where the coach was great. One of his fighters was Chris Aston, who became my trainer and manager after there was a fallout and split. Chris was a pal, he set-up a gym and we got on with it, but at the top-level we were just winging it.

“By the end, I didn’t have anything left in me. The team was inexperienced, so I can’t blame them for it. I was fucked by the end of it. Saying all that, buck stopped with me, and I accept that. Chris is a nice guy, one of my mates, and at the time we thought we knew better. Hindsight is 20/20. I watch these YouTube videos of training camps and how to drop weight. Back then, we didn’t have a clue what we were doing, we knew nothing about boxing at the professional and the top-level.

“You’d be a right c**t to blame Chris, though, because he didn’t know any better, either. Chris was from a kickboxing background, so we’d do everything they way they do it, which is at a hundred miles an hour. Eventually, you are going to burn out.

“We’d get to the gym every day and say: ‘Let’s go fucking full on here’. Looking back, I can’t believe how we did things. All the damage I got in boxing was from sparring and training. I didn’t get that much damage in fights. It was all sparring. Our gym motto was: ‘If you ain’t giving 100% then get the fuck out.’ That were it. That was how we did it.”

Hobson was hit with an irregular brain scan result in 2007 and that was it. He wasn’t done with the sport, the sport was done with him. Once you’ve served your purpose people within boxing, and, let’s face it, boxing fans, are done with you. When you can pull your weight, you get the level of respect given to Boxer, the cart horse in George Orwell’s Animal Farm who served as an allegory for the working person. Once you can’t do the work anymore you face the same fate as Boxer and are sent to the glue factory.

“They brought Michael Sprott to spar me for the second Enzo fight and he knocked the fuck out of me,” Hobson recalled. “Then again, what are you supposed to do? You’ve got to learn how to fight so I see both sides of the argument. I learned from the hard sparring, I learned how to come through shaky patches and how to toughen up, but there has got to be a way to programme the software without damaging the hardware, mustn’t there?”

There was also the issue of the drink and the drugs. This writer has met and befriended a lot of boxers over the years. Some of them are consummate professionals who live the life and had that dedication programmed into them as star amateurs. On the other hand, most of them are young lads who are suddenly given acclaim, fame and money.

Whatever the level you operate at, there are nightclubs that will give you free entry, free bars and you can take along “friends” who will encourage you to take a different path. It is a case of too much, too young, and not everyone can handle the pressure.