"Boxing has been there to share my lowest lows and highest highs. It has shaken its head in mirth as I tried to become the next David Hockney; it has pointed its finger sternly at me and watched me descend into a bottomless pit of drug-taking and destitution, and it has allowed me to become one of its own – not a protagonist, I hasten to add, but nevertheless a Boxing Man, which, as you shall learn, is an epithet not to be taken lightly."
Ian Probert has been scribbling down words ever since he learned to spell the phrase: 'Once upon a time...'. He is the author of Internet Spy, Rope Burns and a bunch of other titles. Internet Spy was a bestseller in the US and made into a TV film. Rope Burns is a book about why books shouldn't be written about boxing. Ian has also written things for a shed load of newspapers and magazines. When Ian was a student he used to write lots of letters to the bank manager.
I downloaded this book after reading the authors wickedly brilliant children's book 'Johnny Nothing'. I am not a boxing fan; in truth I have never really thought much about whether I am for it or against it. I have never paid much attention to it at all. But I was intrigued to learn more about this author, and this book is not just a book about boxing, it is a book about how boxing has played a part in the authors life, how it keeps popping up and butting in, even when he does not want it to. The autobiographical narrative caught my attention right away. Even without much interest in boxing, I was not keen to put this book down once I had started reading. I was often smiling and wincing as the young man described his ambitions and subsequent failures to become a great artist and great film director. Instead, he ends up living in a series of squats, jobless and surviving on potatoes. One day he finds an old typewriter in the latest squat and inexplicably sits down and writes an article about boxing. This is the turning point of his life, and would have been fascinating whether the subject had been boxing, motor sport, football or anything else, to be honest. From then on, his downward spiral ends, and within weeks he is getting paid to write boxing articles and soon ends up as a sports journalist. Quite a lot of luck and blagging get him into a well paid job, nice flat and better than that, help introduce him to the boxing men he has always been intrigued by from afar. Boxing has saved him, and is now his life. I have to say, I became increasingly caught up in the drama and violence of the world he was now a part of. For instance when Michael Watson took on Nigel Benn for the first time, I felt like I was watching it on the screen myself, and more than that, I truly cared about the outcome and had to beg my husband not to spoil it for me! So this book works on many levels, and works well. If you have any interest in boxing whatsoever, you will love it. If you are, or were, indifferent like me, I still think you will enjoy the story itself, of how a destitute young man who has seen his dreams fail around him, suddenly finds himself thrust into the middle of the boxing world. In a sense, it is a story about a boy becoming a man, about someone growing up and trying to find their place in the world. It is also very funny and extremely informative.
http://www.abctales.com/story/truth42... Near the end of Ropeburns, author and narrator, Ian Probert, bumps into Rob Douglas. If you’re like me you’ll not have a clue who Rob Douglas is. You’d know who Rab Douglas is – the ex-Celtic goalie that kept making a hash of it in the biggest matches of the season, most notably against Rangers. Football always finds a new way to smack you in the mouth, and I’m biased that way. Think Nick Hornby’s Fever Pitch and you’ll get something of the taste of Ropeburns, but the latter outclasses the former in every way. It’s a straight knockout in the early rounds.
I’ve nothing against Nick Hornby, I’m sure he’s a great bloke. But Fever Pitch is kind of wanky. A middle-class kinda bloke, (think Hugh Grant or John Cussack and make them bald) a school teacher, follows his great love for Arsenal to its natural conclusion and they win the league and he gets the girl and some mega-book deal that puts him at the top of the tree and he gets to write screenplays because – just fuck off.
Rod Douglas the former British middle-weight title holder would soon give that short shrift. Like me, I’m sure he’d be more interested in the Rocky road to redemption of living in squats, flinging tellys through the window and pissing your life away before it’s begun. That magical moment when Ian does something right, he writes a feature for Boxing News and it gets printed. He gets £50, but more than that. A snowball’s chance for life change and it gains momentum. Ian hooks up with budding world champion Michael Watson at his local gym and he gets lucky. They both get lucky. Watson knocks out Nigel Benn and he’s on the way up. Ian Probert is pulled with him into the orbit of boxing and boxers and the bullshit that makes the news. He should know, he worked as a sport’s writer and agent. He made the connection, then lost them. So when Ian Probert sits down in a café with a middle-aged Rod Douglas and tells him ‘that he is writing a boxing book that is not about boxing’ you’ve got to believe in him. Knock out.