Punching above his weight
Interview | Gareth A Davies He won a silver medal for Britain at the last Olympic Games. Now Commonwealth lightweight champion Amir Khan is already a role model for a generation, joining the likes of footballer Wayne Rooney, tennis ace Andy Murray and F1 whiz Lewis Hamilton – and he’s just turned 21 AMIR KHAN, [...]
Interview | Gareth A Davies
He won a silver medal for Britain at the last Olympic Games. Now Commonwealth lightweight champion Amir Khan is already a role model for
a generation, joining the likes of footballer Wayne Rooney, tennis ace Andy Murray and F1 whiz Lewis Hamilton – and he’s just turned 21
AMIR KHAN, WHO successfully defended his Commonwealth lightweight title for the first time in October against British
rival Scott Lawton, is on course to be one of the greatest stars British boxing has ever produced. This month he turns 21, which finally makes him
old enough to fight for the senior British lightweight title. Yet the man who fights at 135lbs has also already shown that he possesses the power to unite diverse communities.
Three years ago, aged 17, Amir Khan and his father Shajaad were fighting a different battle – for Khan to go to Athens for the 2004 Olympic Games. Many selectors said he was too young – father and son argued otherwise.
As usual, Khan won. Not only did he go on to be the only British boxer at Athens, as well as the UK’s youngest Olympic boxer since Colin Jones in 1976, but he came home a hero – in spite of winning the silver medal after being beaten in the final by the legendary Mario Kindelán of
Cuba, who won his second successive Olympic gold medal.
Khan then signed professional forms with Frank Warren, the boxing promoter who has overseen the rise of Naseem Hamed, Ricky Hatton, Joe Calzaghe and Frank Bruno to world champions. All the signs suggest that Khan, too, is headed for the heights in the toughest, most
individual sport on earth.
According to his father, the signs were always there. Shajaad tells of a hyperactive child and a born fighter. His early hero was Muhammad Ali,
and so Shajaad took the boy to a gym to box. Arguably, it’s an instinct which is in the blood – the Khans are descended from the Janjua Rajput
clan of Pakistan, who have a reputation for excellence in combat. The Khans of northern England would appear to be chips off the old block: Amir’s younger brother, Haroon, is another emerging boxing talent, and his cousin, Sajid Mahmood, is a fast bowler with
Lancashire and England.
Success has brought Khan’s family wealth – they have moved to an upmarket area in the Heaton area of Bolton (“it’s round the corner
from our old house,” says Shajaad), and the young fighter admits to a liking for classy cars and expensive watches. But Shajaad is adamant that the
events in his son’s life have not changed him.
“He’s exactly the same as he was when he came back from Athens,” he insists. “He’s still got the same friends who he hangs about with. People like that keep you normal. He’s got it easy at home. His mum cooks for him and he gets all his ironing done. He can hang out with his mates here. I can’t see him leaving until he gets married. I’m very proud of the kind of kid he is.”
Speak to Khan and you will get a similar response: “Success has not changed me,” he says, looking directly into your eyes when speaking. Like many other fighters, he has a fast mind, and expresses himself with alacrity. His skin glows. His eyes flash. “It’s been great to buy my mum and
dad a house, but I train hard and I work for it. If you train hard and work, you get your reward and this is the reward for me.”
The young boxer is a ferocious worker in the gym, and given the trappings that come with fame, it’s no surprise that those around him insist that he continues to work in Oliver Harrison’s gym in Salford, where he trains daily. With the big, old steel doors bolted shut, Oliver Harrison’s looks more like a disused red-brick building than a fight factory. Inside, there are two boxing rings stretched tightly together, and the tools of the trade for the fighter: an old running machine, a ghetto blaster, a suspended speedball, a punch bag, weights, skipping ropes and a 10-foot horizontal, steel
scaffolding pole secured at four feet in height, which Khan bounds over time and again as part of his training.
The interior of the workplace is old, battered and damp, with yellowing posters marking those who have gone before with their fists. Outside, kids sit around on walls or street corners, baseball caps at an angle. There’s a gritty realism that’s part of boxing’s soul, the visceral environment in
which professional fighters live, breathe and work.
Khan insists, too, on making a contribution to the place which has allowed him to flourish. Despite his tender years, he has recently opened a non-profit-making gym, called Gloves Gym in Bolton, Lancashire. For 50 pence, youngsters aged between seven and 21 can spend two hours there,
using equipment under the watchful eye of six coaches, or simply learning from Khan’s technique as he trains.
“Having a big gym like this at such a young age means a lot to me. It’s the only gym of its kind and it’s all for the kids. It’s my way of giving something back to the community,” he says.
Of Bolton’s quarter of a million population, almost 10% are of Pakistani origin, but the local community has hailed Khan’s success, and many influential figures in Bolton believe Khan’s Olympic achievements have brought the town’s various communities closer together.
The sight of Khan’s father, dressed in a Union Jack waistcoat at the ring apron, and friends and relatives waving the Union flag at the Olympic tournament made Britain proud and helped the debate about integration. The sportsman himself explains that he has integrated
his British identity with his Muslim faith.
“I live in Britain, but I am proud of my faith. It’s one of the reasons that I’ve got so far,” he says. “It keeps me focused and shows me on the right path in life, which I follow. I don’t think I would have got to where I am with my boxing if it were not for my faith.”
Khan’s may be a rapid rise to the top, but boxing promoter Frank Warren has consistently warned the British public not to expect too much, too young, pointing out that, in some ways, Khan still “has the ‘L Plates’ on as a professional”. This was borne out at The O2 arena in London’s Docklands in July, when Khan fought for his first significant professional title. A big-hearted Scotsman called Willie Limond, a seasoned fighter who had been beaten only once in 29 contests and was defending the Commonwealth lightweight title, showed he had not come to lie down. Limond fought cleverly and knocked Khan down with an overhand right in the sixth round that, for a jaw-stopping moment, almost sent Khan’s career crashing around him. However, Khan showed his heart immediately, stopping the bloody dance with an emphatic statement of his own.
Khan broke Limond’s jaw, then his nose, and finally, the Scotsman’s will in the eighth round. It was pulsating boxing at its best, and showed why Khan is seen as special. “Amir is ahead of anyone else I’ve ever handled in terms of his development – he’s that good. He is a great talent,” says
Warren, before adding, “but he is still a young man.”
The young man himself? He just wants to keep pushing forward. His ambition? “To be Britain’s youngest world champion – I have thought about it from the age of eight. I saw Naseem Hamed become world champion aged 21, and I want to be younger than him. After that, to top the
bill in Las Vegas.”
As he reaches his 21st birthday this month, it’s clear that the “Khan-do” approach will see him fight for those goals.
Gareth A Davies is a sports writer for The Daily Telegraph
