Inglourious Basterds of the IABA
By Conor Galvin
It’s the fifth round of one of the most epic fights of all time. A battered and bloodied Bernard Dunne extricates himself from the canvass for a second time. One more slip and the fight is over. The capacity crowd of 9,037 watch helplessly as the champion Ricardo Cordoba moves in for the kill. A barrage of punches rain down upon the hometown favourite. Frantic screams envelope the arena. The great fictional exchange from Rocky III springs to mind;
Apollo: [Rocky keeps getting hit by Clubber Lang] “He’s getting killed out there!”
Paulie: “Oh, no, no. He’s not getting killed, he’s getting MAD!”
Somehow Dunne survives. He smiles at referee Hubert Earle before retreating back to the corner. Harry Hawkins is waiting for him. Terror etched across his face. His man had just been torn to pieces and the champion is now well on top. But that’s when it happened. That seminal moment that defines us all in life. That kill or be killed moment where the mind and body are no longer in charge. The soul takes over. A child of destiny emerges for the 6th round. Bernard Dunne won’t be denied. His 11th round stoppage of Cordoba procured the WBA Super Bantam weight title but more importantly laid bare an invincible shield deep in his soul.
Similar to that fateful night back in March 2009 Barnard Dunne has shipped some heavy artillery over the past weeks. But unlike the Cordoba fight his enemies have been well hidden in the long grass. “Et Tu Brutè?” was famously uttered by Julius Caesar as he recognised his close friend and confidant amongst the team of assassins. Dunne hasn’t been afforded such a luxury. The assassins have thrived under a cloak of secrecy. Leaked documents to the media and anonymous coups have spearheaded the build up to the Olympic Qualifiers in Paris. Perhaps the saboteurs have lacked sufficient knowledge of the commander in chief of the High-Performance Boxing Unit. Whilst the assassins were sharpening their knives Dunne was sharpening his own, not for vengeance but for success. Coolness personified in the face of antagonism. Lesser a man would have put his pride before his athletes and gone to war. Not Bernard Dunne. He has held his council and delivered.
The IABA are perhaps the only organisation in the world who revel in their own demise. Success is far too complex. Success has historically triggered a land grab. Greedy pigs at the trough too eager to get their snout in the limelight. The last golden generation to electrify the masses was led by Billy Walsh. The Oulart the Ballagh man was grass roots and salt of the earth. A man revered by those in his pioneered high-performance unit. Those outside boxing circles may not appreciate the tinder box of coaching at elite level in Ireland. Some of our greatest ambassadors have come from the deeply divided Traveller community. Their lives are less ordinary. Oft times basic sparring is prohibited between boxers from rival factions for fear of sparking a feud. Billy kept a lid on the emotional pyrotechnics and triumphed. Beijing and London garnered a rich harvest. Rio beckoned on the horizon as his golden generation began to enter their prime. His reward was the trapdoor. ‘Sure anyone could do it lads! Roll on Rio!’ 2016 became a chastening exercise. Billys team without Billy left without a single medal, capped off by the drugs controversy of Michael O’Reilly…. Lessons learned?
Five years on and only Brendan Irvine remains from the ashes of 2016. By the time Dunne finally put his hands on the tiller he was greeted by a giant vacuum. Those of the golden generation were still amateur yet in the process of signing mega fight deals in the pro ranks. Dunne was staring at an empty stable. The greats of Irish Olympic boxing had moved on yet the baying mob of the IABA still cried out for success. A labyrinth of internal political upheaval tried to suffocate his coronation. Sport Ireland finally had to step in before the organisation publicly disembowelled itself once more. Like MacGyver, Dunne has had to diffuse one bomb at a time. He’s lived in the shadow of the gunman yet last week delivered an extraordinary achievement. Seven boxers qualified for the Olympics games. The start of the next golden generation. Role models for the future.
“Oh, no, no. He’s not getting killed, he’s getting MAD!”
What now for the saboteurs? Just like the Cordoba fight they’ve thrown the kitchen sink at Dunne and he’s still standing. Not just standing but still smiling too. The bell for the 6th round will soon ring. In the next few weeks they’ll fly out to Japan. History beckons for the chosen few.
“It ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how you can get hit and keep moving forward.” — Rocky Balboa.
Dunnes story should strike a cord with all of us. He has reached the crossroads of his life many times and chosen the most difficult path. Flanked by failure and doubt. Perhaps it’s the path he feels most comfortable on. The flames burn brightly on the pathway to Tokyo and Bernard will be leading from the front. ‘Ní neart go cur le chéile.’
