The Final Chapter

After the fight and all the congratulations in the arena I headed upstairs. I called my Mum and told her that all was OK. Whilst talking to her I got a little emotional. The last 8 weeks had been tough, both in the ring and outside of the ring, and the fact that I'd made it through was a little overwhelming. After I put the phone down and washed my face I went to the red teams room to find Ben. He was in the bathroom tending to his cut and I thanked him for the fight. We agreed to meet downstairs for a proper chat. I quickly showered and changed and went to have some fun with everyone and try and catch the end of the last fight.

The number of people, complete strangers, that stopped and patted me on the back was incredible. Those of you that know my ego will also now realise I was in my element. It was so good to walk into the room with my head held high having not disgraced myself and having proven that I could do this.

The rest of the night was one big party. I partied with my staff, my friends, the other fighters well into the early hours before heading home in anticipation of the pain that would await me on Saturday.

This whole experience has been phenomenal. The level of respect I have for anyone who puts the gloves on and goes into any ring is unrivalled and the benefits I've gained from the last 8 weeks far outweigh the pain, tears and blood that I've shed in this period.

I will continue training. I will continue supporting John, Zack and their boys wherever and in whatever way I can and you never know one day I may well lace up the gloves again for another go in the ring!

A friend of mine sent me some lyrics to a song called the Boxer and I cannot find a more suitable way of ending this experience than with those words.

"In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him til he cried out in his anger and his shame. I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains. Yes he still remains"

Fight Time

Throughout the night, sat in room 707, boxers came, full of adrenaline and pride, quickly relived their fight to us that were still waiting, got dressed into posh frocks or smart suits and disappeared. The pressure was getting to me. I was now in full gear and Isaac had wrapped my hands really well. The fight before mine featured Gavin. He had broken a rib 3 weeks ago and was fighting with it strapped up. They called him down, we hugged, I wished him luck and off he went. I knew I was next and I was now all alone in the room. I went into the bathroom, closed the door, saw someones blood on the walls of the shower cubicle and was sick into the toilet.



After composing myself I went back into the room, put some loud music on the stereo and started to dance in front of the mirror. Now was the time. If I didn't relax and try my best I'd regret this forever. I had a lot of friends downstairs that were as nervous as I and I owed it to them and to myself to do my best. The music and the dancing calmed me down and I was ready.

Saeed came into the room and I hit some combinations into his hands. He then said we have to leave. I gave a quick prayer to ask for some divine support and headed for the elevator. By the time we got to the entrance area Gavin's fight had finished. I tried to keep calm.

The announcer called our fight but instead of my name he called Ben's and Ben's music started. Ben was ushered in front of me and was rushed out first. All I recall of that moment was that Bob Marley was playing and all of Zack's boys were LOVING it. They were dancing and singing. I also recall one of the ring girls had lost her pink phone and was asking everyone in sight if they'd found it, she even offered a reward of 1000aed! I came away from the entrance area to try and get some space and keep some focus.

Then it was time. All I heard were the end of the ring announcers words....... "...Brown Sugar Moooooosa". Sean Paul started singing and off we went. As I stepped into the arena the noise was incredible. The politeness of earlier in the night had disappeared and a booze fuelled atmosphere of noise and fun had taken over. I did not want to rush this moment. We walked slowly to the ring, around it and to my corner. I saw friends everywhere and I felt remarkably calm. Another quick prayer before entering the ring and then I was in. I danced to the centre, looked Ben in the eye and gave him a wink. He looked focused and unruffled by the whole situation. Either this bloke was tough as nails or the best poker player in the world.

The first round was a blur. I knew that after we touched gloves at the beginning he'd try an overhand right. It was something Richie had said in training a few weeks before and as he was in Ben's corner I knew he'd try it. As we touched, I stepped back and his right missed everything. It felt good. It felt like I thought about the fight, planned something, executed it and it worked. Zack and all the trainers had told me to jab and step back for the first couple of rounds and engage in the third. That's exactly what I did. I'd hit him, step back and watch his massive right hook swing in front of my nose. The whole first round was like that and it felt incredible.

The second round was more of the same. However halfway through the round he caught me nicely on the jaw. It didn't hurt and it gave me the confidence to go forward. I decided the next time the big right came over I'd go forward and attack his body and head. Once again it worked. I don't think I hurt him but I know I got a few nice uppercuts that made him think.

Into the third. At this stage I felt fine. My fitness was good and I felt strong. Once again I jabbed but this time I didn't see one of Ben's big rights. It caught me across the jaw. It hurt. A few days back Zack had mentioned seeing stars and that it was common. I saw stars. I was still thinking though and I had planned to just grab him as he came forward. He didn't come forward and it gave me those few seconds I needed to get my composure. With the very next exchange I threw an uppercut. Bizarrely I heard the commentator say, "and Musa misses with the uppercut". I knew I didn't miss and the cut that opened up on the bridge of Ben's nose proved it. It looked quite bad and blood was gushing immediately. We exchanged a few more punches and then Zack came between us. He told me to go to a neutral corner. I could see him shaking his head and saying that he had to stop the fight. I could also hear Ben saying that he didn't want it to be stopped. Zack did well, he ran the clock down to only a few seconds to go, brought us to the middle of the ring, said Box, and the then the final bell rang.

What an experience. What relief. We both hugged and thanked both sets of trainers before receiving our trophies.

The Early Fights

As I was being dropped off at the hotel around 6.30 all I could see were dinner suits and posh frocks everywhere. It felt weird that I was entering this environment in a pair of tatty jeans, a black tee shirt and a bag slung over my shoulder. I walked towards the door and was met by a hefty security guard who wanted to usher me away. "I'm a fighter" I said. Just saying the words felt weird. He smiled and immediately took my bag off me, pushed me in front of all the suits in the queue and accompanied me to the lift. The blue team had been given room 707. Everyone was in the room when I arrived and there was a real sense of nerves being hidden through humour, music and chat. The first fighter to go out was going to be Dave and he was already dressed, wrapped and warming up. Following him was Meike. I had already decided that I'd watch the first 2 fights before coming upstairs to prepare for my bout.

After catching up with everyone, giving Dave and Meike a big hug and meeting our corner guys I went downstairs to the main hall to find my table and guests. The place was packed. The ring in the centre looked so much different to the one I'd seen earlier in the day during the medical. Our table was ringside and was right next to the blue corner of the ring, a perfect location.

There was some general chit chat and I was wished luck and asked how I feel a thousand times. The truth is my nerves were out of control. I was drinking as much water as possible to keep hydrated in the hot room and the I just couldn't stop thinking about the fight. I saw Ben, my opponent come into the room and head towards his table. He looked relaxed, smiling and quite hard!

The first fighters came in to loud music and polite applause. At this point everyone in the room was sober and the atmosphere was quite muted. Dave got into the ring looking completely focused, as did the guy he was fighting, also called Dave. For 3 rounds they stood in front of each other and punched and punched. It was terrifying. Both noses bled from the first round and it seemed to go on forever. At the end of the fight our Dave had probably done more of the good work and won the fight, but what an incredible show.

Next was Meike. She is quite possibly the most stylish boxer in our team and her fight with Stephanie was always going to be good. She came into the arena with her husband and friend behind her pumping the crowd into a frenzy alongside some really loud hip hop music. This seemed to relax Meike as she danced her way around the ring. She looked great. Stephanie bravely stood in front of her for all three rounds. She caught Meike a couple of times with good, hard jabs but she was well and truly beaten over the course of the fight. I felt so good for Meike. She was always first in training. She always wanted to learn new techniques and most of all she's such a fine lady.

By this stage my heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. I couldn't stand being in that room any further and so I said my goodbyes and headed upstairs to room 707.

Countdown

It's nearly 5pm on fight day. We had the medical this morning and all went OK. My blood pressure was a little higher than I'd wanted or expected but I guess that's just the nerves acting up! My bag is packed, my new shiny white shorts are tucked inside, I've had a steak, tuna and pasta lunch and I've even had a couple of hours sleep this afternoon. It turns out that my fight will be on around 11pm and so there's still a long long time before Sean Paul starts singing.

I'm going to head out of the house at about 6.30 and I'll spend the time before the fight in the Hotel room with my corner men and bowl of blue m&m's!

I don't think I can type anymore.

Time to Just Relax

I've just come back from a session in the gym. We only did a few minutes of shadow boxing and then spent the rest of the hour talking about Friday. Zack keeps mentioning the fact that my opponent has been training hard on countering my jab with hard body shots. It got me nervous and made me tense up. I need to relax. I need to keep my shoulders loose and my emotions calmer than they are now. Zack did however also have a great remedy for overly tense boxers on the night......2 aspirins and a glass of red wine 30 minutes before the fight....I'm beginning to REALLY like this guy!!



I've decided to have another session hitting some pads tomorrow. At this time of night, with Bones on telly and with a million things going through my mind I think it will do me good to have some light punching tomorrow. I've also booked a sports massage for tomorrow night and by that I mean a sports massage....not a massage for sport! I'm hoping the combination of release of aggression against a padded hand and the firm pressure of the Angsana Spa Massage team should help focus me on what I can do instead of what the other guy may be able to do.

I'll be glad when Friday night is out of the way. I'm really looking forward to boxing training without the fear and pressure of actually boxing. I realise this sounds weird and it sounds like it shouldn't make sense but believe me if you ever get the opportunity to have this experience you'll know EXACTLY what I mean.

On a more positive note Zack also told us that we'd have a couple of his team in our dressing room to get us exactly what we want. As I'll be in the room from 6 till 10 before I fight I've started amusing myself with stuff I can ask for......a bowl of M&M's with all colours except blue removed, a magnum or two of Cristal and I've even considered sending one of the younger guys out to find me some chicken lips just so I can time how long he looks before giving up......harsh but fair I feel!!

Round One To The Red Team

In a bizarre setup last night we were put in front of our opponents in the training ring. Due to some issues within the group of trainers it became necessary to have a draw for the corner men that will look after each team on the night. Zack put us in two lines facing each other and then 2 from each team drew names from a hat. Unfortunately Richie, who both teams wanted in their corners, will be in the Red corner and we have 2 others from Zack's boys. It's disappointing because Richie has been training us since the beginning but there's nothing we can do about it now.

To compound this loss we then tossed a coin to see who would be first in the ring and who would come out second. We had wanted to come out second so that we spent as little time in the ring before the first bell as possible. Unfortunately we lost again and we will come out first. So, not a great start for the Blue team! Richie was really disappointed and tried to persuade Zack to change his mind but what's done is done. It's heartening that he really wanted to look after us on the night and I bet deep down he'll be cheering for us more than his own red team!

In the end it doesn't matter who wins random tosses of coins or draws from hats. What matters is who wins in the ring on Friday night. The first round outside of the ring goes to the Reds but the important rounds inside the ring are still a few days away and we don't plan on losing those.

The First of 15 Minutes of Fame....

That's it. The countdown has begun. Yesterday afternoon was spent in a gym in Karama being photographed and filmed for both the on the night footage and also for a feature on Dubai One TV last night. There was a great deal of posturing, snarling, bag hitting and 10 or 15 minutes of hitting pads in front of the camera. I'm not sure about the rest of the team but I found myself grunting a little more and pounding Richie's glove with a straight right harder than I have done in any other training session. I know this is the case because today my right hand aches and I even broke skin through the glove and through the wrap! The TV feature was really good and although I've appeared on local TV before this is the first time I've been on without my other two chins!

In the end once a showman always a showman. Whether its the Cowboy sketch in the Reps Cabaret in Maggaluf when I first worked overseas or punching a bag in a sweaty gym in Dubai, put a camera in front of me and I can't help but show off. I remember Mr. McGowan at Wesham C of E primary school calling me a show off and me feeling indignant at the time....how right he was. Still, I have my concerns about male primary school teachers but that's a completely separate blog! I sincerely hope that the 1000 people in the room on Friday night have the effect of bringing the showman out and giving me that extra step or that extra lung full of air.

Anyhow, only 6 days to go now. I'm more nervous than I've ever been about anything before but at least this time next week it'll be over. My foot will be loose and my fancy will be free to eat what I want, drink what I want and sleep late when I want. However if I'm REALLY honest, when this is all over, will I not miss the remaining 14 minutes of fame this next week will bring?

Penguins and Guilt!

Having not shut up about my body fat index for the last couple of days Aiveen told me off today for wanting a bit of chocolate. She quite rightly pointed out that I’d soon become Fat Naz again if I carried on thinking like that. She also quite rightly mentioned the fact that as a diabetic this wanton lust for chocolate probably didn’t help my blood sugar! So I listened to her. I chewed away at my supplement bar, giving me all the protein and carbs I need but tasting like cardboard and air, and I quickly forgot my cravings.

However, after I got back from training tonight a full pack of Penguin Biscuits appeared in our kitchen!! I haven’t seen Penguins since I was a kid back at home and even then they were always in the “special” secret biscuit tin alongside the Breakaways and the Wagon Wheels for when important guests came around. A treat from the secret tin (not actually that secret really – it was hidden in the cupboard under the sink) was the highlight of the week and really only happened on a Sunday evening and if Nottingham Forest (my dad’s team) and Man City (Mum’s team) both won.

So, imagine my glee when in my own house, in plain sight, purchased with my own hard earned cash, there were 20 penguins!!!!! Training went well, 9 days until the fight, blood sugar under control I thought sod you Aiveen, I’m having a Penguin.

My God they are good. The final squeeze of that last mouthful out of the packet reminded me so much of happy, carefree times when all that mattered was that you’d done your homework, you were in the team for Sunday’s match and your dad didn’t find out who really broke next door’s window.

After all of the work I’ve put in to the last 7 weeks I think I deserve a little treat to myself and what better way than to pi…pi….pi….pick up a penguin once again!

Lean Mean Fighting Machine? Well Almost!

Normally I hate anything that resembles a medical. Growing up the son of a doctor that may sound strange and if I think back I really don't think the dislike of check ups started until I reached Dubai. It's since I landed in this Desert Disneyland that I've begun to treat medicals with the level of disdain I usually reserve for vegetarians. The reason is clear. Here in Dubai they make you have a HIV test before giving you the right to live and work here and although everyone is 100% sure they are OK, there is still that little devil that sits on your shoulder reminding you of possible past indiscretions. That first test, 4 years ago, changed me for what I thought was the rest of my life. The subsequent one last year was less traumatic but you do still wonder about that ropey barber shop in Karama you once used for a 10 dirham shave and haircut with a blunt razor.

Anyhow, this week I think all of these fears disappeared. I actually requested a check up from Ronnie at the gym. You see I'm feeling great. I had my best session of sparring on Thursday night where I did everything Zack told me to do and kept all the bad men from punching me. I then had another couple of strong gym and circuit sessions and I thought it would be interesting to see what the events of the last 5 weeks have actually done to my body. The change is incredible. Firstly, when I took my top off Ronnie didn't laugh (see earlier note "Ronnie Austria"). In fact my core strength (muscles in my gut and lower chest) has increased by 40%. My arms have increased in strength significantly, my legs have lost their fat and become much leaner in muscle, I've lost about a kilo but the amount of this 85kg of weight that was fat has decreased massively. The most impressive movement has been in my Body fat index. This has gone from just below 25% to just below 14%! Now I'm told that professional body builders have less than 3% but if we're honest they are just freaks. I am also told that pro footballers are around 14%.......United here I come!! This is obviously where I've been going wrong for so long, it's not my footwork or ability, I've just been a little fat!

I've just come back from another sparring session and once again I felt really comfortable. Its now 12 days until the big night and I'm hoping that I can time my peak of fitness and mental stability just right. I have 2 more nights of sparring and a week of gym sessions before we stop and work on the mind for the last 5 days and so we are definitely entering the home straight.

Whatever happens on the night of 6th June I now feel so much better, fitter, stronger, more confident and down right harder than I did when I first received John's call on April 1st. The trick is going to be relaxing and getting through the fight and then keeping this Brown Sugar body after it's all over.

The Important Stuff - Name & Music!

Following the sleepless night, beating, worries and fears earlier in the week I'm pleased to say I'm back on track. So much so that I think I've finally found my fight name and my entrance music! Let's start with the thought process. If I'm learning anything from this time it's that when it comes down to fight night its really all about me. However much people support you before and during the fight there is really only one person throwing and receiving punches. With that in mind it's important that I'm comfortable with everything surrounding the process.

I've had SO many suggestions about a fight name. "The Dark Destroyer", "Razamanaz", "The Sudanese Assassin", "KO Killa" are just not true and profess to a level of pugilism that I just don't possess! Some were just silly (and I have to say quite funny), "(Cry) Baby Face Musa", "Muzarable Fuckha" and my personal favourite, "The Love Bloat". For obvious reasons these were none starters!

Then, earlier in the week a mate suggested "Brown Sugar". I love it. It's respectful to some of histories greatest fighters, Joe Louis (The Brown Bomber) and Sugar Ray Leanord. It reflects my MASSIVE ego and I can think of some great music from great bands that surrounds it....D'Angelo, Rolling Stones, Mos Def, Little Richard and even ZZ Top. I mentioned it to a few people who in turn questioned the "hardness" of the name alongside the fear that it may be a little effeminate. I of course ignored them (see ego above) and it's now stuck. I've even found a logo!!

Now for the music. Once again every suggestion around the kind of music I like, Hip Hop, R&B and Reggae, talked about killing this, beating that, blah, blah, blah. One thing is for certain, I won't need pumping up before the fight. The nerves and the adrenaline will take care of all of that! I want to come into the ring listening to music that makes me happy, that makes me want to dance and will keep me calm. I've therefore decided to come into a Sean Paul tune from his Trinity Album. The song is called "We Be Burnin" and it always makes me bounce....!

"Every day we be burnin not concernin what nobody wanna say, we be earnin dollars and sterling coz we mind be on we pay.... recognise it, we pimpin as we ridin"

Brown Sugar & The Thunder From Down Under - June 6th 2008.

Is this worth it?

I've just had without doubt the worst 24 hours in this whole experience. Last night I sparred with Jerome. Jerome is fighting as a heavyweight on the night and is probably 20kg heavier than me. I fought 3 rounds and got hit pretty hard on more than one occasion. My nose bled from the first round until the end of the fight and my legs could hardly move at the end of the session. Now, I realise I fought someone bigger and stronger than me but my issues are with me and not with Jerome. I should have jabbed and kept out of his way but I didn't, I stood there and took it.

After training I drove home and sat in the bath for far too long thinking things through. I then couldn't get the whole experience out of my head. I spent the whole night watching crap telly whilst pretending to try and sleep. At 4am I had, in my head, already decided that enough was enough and I didn't want to get up in front of all those people and get humiliated. I felt sick and I was ready to quit.

What's worse is that I knew my alarm would go off at 5.15 and suggest I get up and go to the gym. It's difficult to find anything positive from this experience. I did get to see an epsiode of Dr.90210 on telly in which a bloke who had an inverted penis had an operation that allowed him to consummate his marriage (he was a 49 year old virgin). However, as incredible as this was I'm afraid it did nothing to placate my anger and fear.

Thankfully I must have dosed off and when the alarm rang 45 minutes later I decided to get up, dress and drive to training. Richie was fantastic. I don't know whether he knew I'd be pissed off or if he just saw it in me. He, quite rightly, highlighted that I took some big punches from someone much, much bigger than me, I didn't stop coming forward and I lasted all 3 rounds. It made me feel so much better and began to rebuild my confidence. Even though I hadn't slept all night I had a decent training session and quitting disappeared from my mind. Richie won't be reading this but I'll make sure that when this is all over he realises the affect he had on me and on my mindset. For someone so unassuming he, and all of Zack's boys, are such interesting characters and I bet they don't know how much they are changing people around them.

I now want to see "that" Dr.90210 episode again. I feel I could do it more justice without Jerome's right hook replaying in my mind every second.....!

Confessions of an Old Man

So, it's been a big week. Firstly since the last entry I've been in London, Mallorca and now back in Dubai. I had to unfortunately leave the training regime for a strategy meeting in Spain. To be honest I think it did me some good. Although I used the gym in the hotel every day and I, quite rightly, flaunted my new low fat Naz look around the pool, it was good to get away from the intensity of the daily boxing gym training. I've just returned from my first sparring session since I got back and I feel much better for the rest.

This week I also turned 37. I have to say birthdays never really affect me but this one seems to have done. I guess when you're 36 people say, "That Naz, he's in his mid thirties" but at 37 its definitely "Oh Naz, he's in his late thirties." LATE THIRTIES. How the hell did that happen? I can remember seeing Jeremy Welsh's next door neighbour scratching his arse when he was 18 and we were 12 and thinking, "Bloody Hell I wish I don't get that old." I remember when my Mum turned 40, just 3 years away now for me. I remember my first snog with Susan Hoyle, JESUS, that was 25 years ago....25 YEARS!!!!! I know, I know, I should stop whining. 30's are the new twenties and 40's are the new 30's but to be honest that's just bollocks. It's bollocks perpetuated by people in their 30's and 40's...not by those having a fantastic time in their 20's. Lets be REALLY honest 37 is now middle aged. I have spent years listening to people in their early 50's calling themselves middle aged. My dad said he was middle aged at 56. I don't know anyone who is 112 years old...I didn't tell him that at the time. However, 37 makes my life expectancy of 74 very realistic.

As you can see I've thought too much about this. Unfortunately it isn't just reminiscing about that night on Darrel's balcony when Susan Hoyle took advantage of me ( for note she also then took advantage of me in the cloak room of the Grapes in Wrea Green 4 years later in honour of that first snog). I think the real reason I'm feeling my age is the fact that I found out this week that the guy I'm fighting, Ben, is the son of a bloke I play golf with. How crap is that? Either he's so young that his dad is an active member of today's golfing society (shut it!) or I'm so old I'm playing golf with a bloke who has a son old enough to beat me up in front of 1000 people.

As you can see it's been an emotional roller coaster. One minute I'm rested, feeling strong, preening in the Spanish sunshine, the next I'm forced into the realism that I'm getting older. Although, for my age, I consider myself a rock star. The new reality is I can party as hard as the next man as long as I'm in bed before the sun rises, I then get at least 8 hours sleep and I have a spa treatment booked the day after. That may make me middle aged but hey, at least I'm not like those old fogies who are 38!!