Collins returns to where he was king

They never come back, according to boxing lore.

The square ring has plenty of stories of fighters who thought they had one more bout in them, only for time, the subtle thief of youth, to teach them otherwise.

It wasn’t like that for Steve Collins yesterday, though. He came back to Páirc Uí Chaoimh for a visit and it cost him no more than a few shivers in the February chill.

It’s almost 20 years since Collins defeated Chris Eubank in the stadium by the Lee, retaining his WBO world super-middleweight title in the process.

The man from Cabra was in Cork to shoot a few scenes with Sky Sports for a documentary to mark the anniversary, one which will air next week.

In person these days Collins is not exactly the fearsome warrior he was 20 years ago; few men are capable of intimidating dressed in a flat cap and overcoat, with the lapels of a natty green tweed jacket peeking out.

That said, he doesn’t look too far north of his fighting weight and his handshake is firm. He lives in England now and when you ask how he enjoys the life of a gentleman farmer, the response is quick.

“Well, a farmer anyway. I wouldn’t go further than that.”

Standing by the Páirc dressing rooms, he blew on his boxers’ fingers and looked out through the tunnel doors at the Sky technicians beavering around with their equipment.

“I’ve been back to Cork since the night of that fight,” he said. “But this is my first time back in the stadium since then. My first time seeing it in the daylight, actually.”

The cold light suited the ground: as the cameramen began to collect their gear the clear, near-frosty air meant detail wasn’t a challenge to the naked eye.

The seats across the pitch stood out in their trim rows; the concrete rim to Páirc Uí Chaoimh delineated the exact proportions of the cauldron Collins’ supporters created there when he faced Eubank, all those years ago.

“Ah, I wasn’t conscious of the crowd and that,” he says now.

“You’re in a fight, that’s the focus. Getting yourself right physically on the evening, getting your concentration just right for the man you’re up against.

“The crowd isn’t something you’re aware of until afterwards. You can relax then and take it in, the atmosphere, the heads bouncing up and down. You can enjoy it then all right, and I enjoyed it that night when I got the decision.”

The playing surface was damp yesterday, but it wasn’t as wet as the evening Collins occupied a ring at its centre, when his entry to the fray was a little unorthodox.

He pointed up the tunnel to the top corner at the City End: that had to be his entry point when he was approaching the ring, because the crowd was packed so tightly everywhere else. He remembers a garda picking him up, though, and carrying him over the wet turf until he could slip through the ropes.

The only man to be carried into a ring for a world championship bout, he says, rather than being carried out. The record books show the cold statistics, of course, two of the three judges favouring Collins’ all-out attack; they don’t reveal, however, that the defeat was so catastrophic to Eubank’s sense of self that he announced his [first] retirement from professional boxing just weeks later.

Adam Smith of Sky Sports was also in Páirc Uí Chaoimh yesterday, and he pointed out how important boxing had been at that time in developing the Sky brand, and how the rivalry between the likes of Collins, Eubank, Nigel Benn and others had been instrumental to that. Smith pointed out that the previous meeting between Collins and Eubank had been in Millstreet, providing a novelty to the occasion that boxing generally, let alone Irish boxing, would benefit from even now.

When the cameramen had their equipment packed away it was time for the visitors to move on. As they strolled down towards the entrance by the Atlantic Pond corner of the ground Collins remained visible in the little group of pedestrians thanks to that flat cap, and to his Dublin accent, blurring in with the English voices as they echoed away in the tunnel under the big stand.