Fighting Against The Odds

Boxing is possibly the most shamefully under-exploited subject in the world of cinema — although the sport is brilliantly suited to the medium (check Raging Bull for proof), the public's appetite for boxing-related movies has waned considerably over the last decade or so, thanks no doubt to the sheer unadulterated awfulness of the Rocky series. The spell was finally broken in summer 1997 with the release of the magnificent Muhammad Ali documentary When We Were Kings, and it has now been followed by another documentary, equally inspirational albeit on a much smaller scale.

Southpaw (running time approx. 75 minutes) relates the continuing life story of Francie Barrett, the Galway kid who overcame every conceivable disadvantage to reach the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, in the process becoming the first person ever to thus represent our travelling community. The pride his achievements generated among his people can only be truly understood after you've actually seen the film, and the fairytale story shows every sign of continuing apace. Francie's demeanour throughout the film repudiates every stereotype popularly held about his profession — utterly calm, even-tempered, mild-mannered and downright gentle outside the ring, he is possessed of an enviable inner equilibrium that has doubtlessly played a huge part in his success. He is understandably "delighted" with the way the film has turned out, and somewhat bemused at the level of interest it has attracted from the press: "I'd no idea it'd be this big."

He lives in London these days, not by choice but as a result of our Government's failure to provide a permanent halting site for his Galway clan. There were definite benefits to the move, however — it has enabled him to take advantage of the superior facilities afforded at his club in Neasden, thus providing a level of preparation he would have been hard-pressed to maintain on home soil.

What makes the film a great documentary is its gritty, naturalistic approach — it's not difficult to imagine how slushy and cloying the story might have become in Hollywood's hands, but here it remains realer-than-real throughout, as befits director Liam McGrath (previous works: Male Rape and Boys for Rent). Its most touching subplot is the deep relationship between Francie and his 65-year-old trainer/mentor Chick Gillen. Francie remains in regular contact with Gillen: "Oh yeah, I ring Chick every Sunday, every single Sunday, I wouldn't lose Chick for the world. A lot of people might think I've left Chick, but that'll never happen. I think the world of Chick. If I win a medal at the next Olympic Games, it'll be for Chick."

How are the Olympic preparations coming along? "Oh, the preparation is great, I'm training twice a day for the Irish Championships (on February 6th) and everything's going great like, y'know. There'll be a few hard bits along the way, but hopefully I'll get through them."

Was there ever a moment during the making of Southpaw when you wished you hadn't bothered, or the cameras started getting on your nerves?

"Nah, not at all, sure I'm well used to cameras now after the Olympics and all. If the film was going to be real then it had to be done."

He is particularly impressed with McGrath's depiction of one particularly gruelling title fight: "That was the ABA final where I got the decision in the count, like, and I thought I wasn't going to get it. Before that decision, Lou said to me that the referees were saying that my style was going to get public warnings, and I've never had a public warning in my life. In the first round I was hittin' yer man from every angle, and by the second round he was doing all the holding. He (the ref) gave me a public warning, and then in the third round he gave me another public warning. So with two rounds to go, I was four points behind him. Next I upped the pace and the ref eventually realised that he was doing all the holding, and I thought I was a mile ahead. He gave yer man two public warnings. I had a nice few points scored from then on so I beat him on points," he smiles, the memory obviously still vividly clear.

Do you get annoyed by dirty fighters?

"Oh yeah," he affirms, "I get very, very annoyed with dirty fighters — if a fighter's holdin' ya all the time, well I don't like that. You know, I like a nice clean fight, there's nothing like a nice clean fight. During the Olympics I had a very clean fight with Billy Walsh from Cork. That was a brilliant fight y'know, a brilliant fight. I really, really enjoyed that fight, and he was the Irish Senior Champion at the time. Y'know he was beatin' Americans (no better pastime — C.F.), the whole lot, and I beat him 19-10."

Are there any particular boxers who would've really influenced you or been heroes of yours when you were growing up?

"I really always liked Wayne McCullough, I really like his style and all, and like I know there's an awful lot of bad talk about Mike Tyson, but I really like to watch him box as well."

Like the rest of us, Francie can only marvel at Tyson's brute power, but notes that there is discernible room for improvement in Tyson the human being (our conversation took place before Tyson unleashed an eloquent verbal salvo of "Fuck yous, fuck yous and more fuck yous" at some hapless interviewer).

"He shouldn't have that attitude y'know. But I still hope he comes back to win the world title. Who I really like watching as well is Steve Collins. I used to love watching Barry McGuigan, nearly every Irish fighter that's out there, I do always want to see them win. We've sort of got a special style of our own."

The influence of Chick Gillen ensures that Francie is something of a student of his sport's history. He adored the Muhammad Ali film When We Were Kings, and bought it on tape this Christmas just passed so he could keep it for all time.

"I've a book about him as well I read all the time. He had it all when he was young, but that's the way it goes."

Single-minded to the end, Francie has no intention whatsoever of resting on his laurels: "Ah, the ambition is still firing, I just want to get better and better, and further and further, and what I really really want to do is win a medal in the Olympic Games. However it goes after that, I haven't really put my mind to it (the only logical next step would be to turn pro, at Francie's young age — C.F.). But to win that medal would be the biggest achievement that you can ever have. And I feel well capable of it, 'cos I boxed a few months ago in a multi-nations tournament and I'd broke my hand the week before. I wasn't sure how it was going to go and I beat the European champion from the Ukraine 10-7. Then I was up against the World No. 3 from Russia the next night. I was 3-1 ahead and my hand gave in in the fifth round. He came back to beat me on a count. He went on to win the gold medal... y'know. So I know that I'm well capable of doing it, and I have my mind really set on the job."

Having encountered the hatred and hostility extended to travellers throughout Ireland, did Francie ever get to wondering, during the heady summer of '96, whether people were changing their tune just because he'd become a champion?

"Yeah, but an awful lot of people — I always felt most people respected me, and most settled people had respect for me, and, well, maybe it's because I've been winning Irish titles. I don't know — my Dad, now, could tell you more about it. I never really had problems, only there once when I was a young lad. A big huge guy down the park called me a knacker. I just walked away from it. I didn't let it bother me and I never have. At the end of the day we're all human beings, two arms, two legs, and we're all Irish, we just have a different culture."

When you got back to Galway city centre after the Olympics and there were a couple of thousand people out there to welcome you...

"Ahh, it was brilliant," enthuses Francie with a glowing grin.

Did it occur to you that the crowd probably contained a few people who five years earlier wouldn't have given you the time of day?

"Well, I didn't really notice, the day wasn't about that, and me mind wasn't really on anything like that. Everyone that was there was there to welcome us and I wasn't looking out for any people. I'm not a grudging or a bad-minded person and I've no bad feelin' for anyone. I was just delighted, absolutely delighted."

"One time there last year me and the brother tried to get into a nightclub in Salthill, and we couldn't get in. But I didn't hold a grudge, I just walked away. I coulda brought it to court if I wanted to, but it's a bit silly, it's a waste of time. The worst thing you can do is let anything like that bother you, it just makes things even worse."

A resident of London, Francie claims to have encountered virtually no experience at all of anti-Irish racism in his time living there — incredibly, given my myriad experiences of the phenomenon — which probably tells you more about the virulently hateful anti-traveller sentiment in Ireland than it does about London's supposed multicultural harmony. Obviously blessed with the ability to feel at home anywhere, Francie talks about the city of fallen dark angels with a fond (and frighteningly familiar) affection, but makes it crystal-clear that, to avoid paraphrasing the Wolfe Tones, his soul resides in Ireland.

"Galway will always be the closest to my heart. I'm only going to be stayin' in London till my boxing career's over and then I'm gonna be goin' back to Galway. Me and her (nods in the direction of his wife and childhood sweetheart) have talked about this a lot, but at the end of the day it's no contest, home's still where the heart is."

Do you see your kids following in your footsteps?

(Enthusiastically) "Oh, yeah, my young lad is mad into boxing and he's only 18 months, I hope he gets into it, the enthusiasm is there all right. Like the other day I was in the trailer gettin' me gear ready. He walked up and put on the headgear and he got me to put on the gloves. I was messin' with him and he lit down beside me and he just started smilin'. That was brilliant, so I got a photograph of it. I love my kids to bits, I love my wife to bits, there's nothing like it in the world, hearing someone go 'Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!'"

Could Francie envisage his love for his kids posing complications for his career? Supposing, God forbid, his kids were to see him get badly beaten in a fight to an extent that seriously upset them, could it entice him to give up the game?

"No, like, the way 'tis in boxing, you'll have your good days and you'll have your bad days. If you lose a fight you lose it. Chick always said to me 'we'll rise again' — and that's what I'm going to say to my son, and if I lose — and everybody loses — and if he did or didn't watch me I'll say 'Frankie, don't worry son, I'll rise again.' That's always worked for Chick, and it'll work for me."

Francie is a lifelong non-smoker and non-drinker, who keenly appreciates the wisdom of keeping it that way, having reached this point in his life and career. He continues to adhere to a strict fitness training regime, at an age when most of us couldn't summon up the energy to do ten press-ups: "I go for my runs in the morning. I had packing work there a while ago twice a week. I'd be goin' to work Tuesday mornings and Thursday mornings, and then I'll be training Monday evenings, Tuesday evenings, Wednesday evenings, Thursday evenings, then I take Friday off, training 12 o'clock Saturday mornings and Sunday mornings. So six days a week training, all heavy training. The last Sunday we were doing 800 metres, four of them, and each 800m-race we had to get done between two minutes and three minutes. Louis (Leo, his Cockney trainer) and I reckon now, in a couple of weeks we'll be down to two minutes ten, 2.15 or thereabouts. That's great going. We start at half-six and finish nine, half-nine."

What does he do away from the ring?

"Go to the pictures a lot, and I wouldn't mind getting into a bit of golf, the idea's growing on me. I just play it for the fun, it can relax your mind. I love all sports, I love watching horseracing, athletics, rugby."

Francie then proceeds to recite the name of every sport you could conceivably want to watch. He enjoys a good game of football but doesn't profess to know or care very much about it, as his support for Manchester United would indicate. What, then, are Francie's plans for the rest of the year?

"To win the seniors in February, that's one. And then try to qualify for the Olympics, and the European Championships. I have me mind set on it all and I can't wait to get going. I hope this is the best year yet."

We'll be with you all the way, anyway.

"Thanks a million. Thanks very much."

Francie Barrett — his personality a captivating combination of humility and enormous self-belief — embodies the drive, dignity and decency of the great sportsperson more than anyone I have met since the late, great Billy Bremner, and there are so many more years of his career to look forward to. Just watch him go — Francie Barrett, a living tribute to his much-maligned ethnic community, to his nation and to the human race.