The Shamrock Express - R.I.P
I just about collapsed on my stool glad of the 60 seconds break from the relentless, accurate, punishing punches I’d absorbed almost unanswered for the last 60 seconds of the round. Out of my right eye, the left eye had been swollen so bad my corner had to illegally cut it open to release the blood in round 7, I saw the ref making his way to my corner. I could tell by his face he was coming to stop the fight – I jumped up and started shadow punching the air and his face changed and then he spoke ‘Champ I’m going to stop the fight, you got nothing left. I smiled at him and said ‘Ref you gotta be kidding I’ve got 2 rounds left in me easy’ We both knew I was lying. ‘One more round like the last one and I’m stopping it Danny and no arguments’ He walked off to the center of the ring and I sat back down. It was late in the fight round 10… I’d been knocked down in the second, sixth and seventh and was just about unconscious on my feet in the last round.
A lot of fighters say that Father time is the one opponent you can’t beat and they’re right. At 36 and after 50 fights my reflexes had slowed and it took just a split second longer for my brain to tell my body what to do. In boxing a split second is 2 seconds too long. In my prime I never got hit. That is to say I never took a lot of punches – in boxing everyone gets hit – you can’t take a shower without getting wet right ? I’d been blessed with lightning reflexes. I could see a guys chest muscles tense before a punch was thrown and either be out of harms way or slip it and throw back a counter punch in less than a second. That gift and the hundreds upon hundreds of rounds spent learning the ‘Sweet Science’ led me from a run down, dying North East Council housing estate to the dizzy heights reserved for fighters who win 4 world titles at 3 different weights. I had transcended the sport of boxing and become an icon and an inspiration for millions of disadvantaged given up on kids from every corner of the earth who saw what I achieved and realised their dreams to were not impossible.
The ten second warning sounded and Terry – the best corner man/trainer and friend I have ever had looked at my swollen and cut eyes and said ‘One more round Danny Boy and then I’m calling it a day’ He wasn’t just talking about stopping this fight he meant the end of my career and his. He had been like a father to me for 20 years and he felt every punch I ever took. ‘Okay one more round… Lets give them something to remember Danny Boy – the Shamrock Express – by’ I whispered.
Then the bell went and I moved forward slowly and unsteadily to ring center towards my opponent. He ambled towards me full of the confidence of youth knowing I was maybe one decent punch away from game over. After 30 seconds of little action he threw a lead right uppercut – the most dangerous punch to throw because it’s the easiest to counter. With my left eye virtually shut I didn’t see it coming and it caught me flush. The white lights of sleep exploded in my head and I slumped to the canvas my right knee and glove keeping me from lying face down. Something strange happened when my glove hit the floor it was like my body had been earthed and the all the pain and exhaustion seemed to flow out of my body like electricity through my arm into my glove and onto the canvas…
I sat in that position and looked at my corner and winked just in time to stop Terry throwing in the towel and stopping the fight. Then I looked straight at the ref as he also was about to wave it over. I looked him square in the eye and said as jokingly as I could manage ‘Jesus ref he tripped me there… it’s not like I’m in enough trouble already’ The ref looked at me unsure what the hell was going on and got to a count of 7 as I got up and wiped my gloves on his shirt. He waved the fight on and I walked towards my opponent with my gloves almost by my waist. He looked unsure at first and then decided I was gone, an open target… that was his first and last mistake of the night.
He looked to land a haymaker right hook with everything in it, a finisher punch designed to end the night. I ducked under it the top of his glove scraping my hair and then came back up with a left hook thrown with every ounce of passion, frustration and even hate that I had in me. It landed high on his temple and the effect was devastating. It sent a shockwave through his body that somehow seemed to start at his left leg and then ripple up to his brain. He took one step to the left and fell face first into the canvas. You don’t get up from those shots they cause damage that not only lasts until the ref counts to 10 but for the rest of your career.
The ref began to count but stopped at 3 when he realised the fighter was unconscious. I dropped my hands and turned to my corner. Terry was running towards me and I fell into his arms. My legs had given up and the white lights of unconsciousness were exploding behind my eyes. As he lay me on the canvas I whispered into his ear ‘Terry I owe you for my whole life and I love you like a father… I’ll miss you’ His eyes were streaming tears he said nothing just cradled my head as I slipped away.
The Times 26th April 2010 – Sports Section
In one of the most amazing fights ever seen in a ring defending champion Daniel Murphy - known as Danny Boy the Shamrock Express to millions of fans - came back from 10 rounds of one sided sustained brutality to retain his title with probably the most perfect, desperate, beautiful left hook ever thrown. It rendered his opponent the former undefeated Lewis Jones unconscious before he hit the floor. Although Lewis was to recover minutes after Danny Boy’s injuries sustained in the first 10 rounds were far more serious. He slipped into a coma from a blood clot on the brain and despite the best efforts of surgeons working late into the night to save him died at 3am this morning…..
R.I.P Danny Boy Murphy
'To speak with his equal and irish man is forced to talk with God...'
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Originally Posted by Shamrock
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