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  My friend Ricky Hatton, the former world light-welterweight and welterweight champion, was happy to offer his gym for me to train in. And I must give credit to Ben for dealing with my mood swings in the first couple of months, even though I was working out every day. It was always going to be a mammoth task, but I was committed to the process of getting better and getting fitter.

  By the time Christmas 2017 had come and gone I felt that I was making progress but even then I still wanted to quit so many times, so I knew that more needed to be done. Ben felt that as well. For a while he had been keen for us to go to Marbella. He felt that the sunshine and the whole atmosphere there would be good for my mood, and would also help me a lot in the process of losing the large amount of weight that still needed to be shifted. Ben had stayed with my family right up to Christmas Eve and then he went to see his family and returned on Boxing Day. We went out for a run the next day with the kids beside me on their new scooters even though it was lashing down and cold. It was pretty miserable, the wind was beating into my face, and Ben said, ‘Look, this is why we need to go to Spain.’ I wasn’t too fussed at first but then I thought, ‘Right, let’s do it.’ I got my phone and in no time was telling Ben, ‘Right, we’re all booked for tomorrow.’ I had booked two cars for the Eurotunnel. Ben would be in one car with my brother Hughie, and I was in the other with Paris and the kids.

  So off we went, but by the time we got to a petrol station on French soil, rather typically of me at the time I was having second thoughts. I turned around to Ben and told him, ‘Let’s just forget about it and head to Disneyland. I can’t be bothered with this.’ I wasn’t meaning to be a pain in the backside but I could tell Ben was getting a bit frustrated. It was still part of the mental process that I was going through – one part of me knew the benefits of warm-weather training and the other part of me was being hit by the depressive thoughts of ‘who cares?’ But after staying in a hotel overnight we kept on going through France and as we got closer to Spain the sun hit our car and I rang ahead to Ben. To his relief I told him I couldn’t wait to enjoy this weather and get some work done. I think that made the rest of his journey a lot easier!

  We finally got to Marbella on New Year’s Eve and I had an Indian meal with my family and some friends, including Dave Reay, who had come along as support for me, which I really appreciated. It was the last supper before seven weeks of very hard, disciplined work. Ben put me on a ketogenic diet, which meant mostly zero carbohydrates. This diet was going to help me shift the weight because it would force my body to seek fat to burn for fuel to give me energy to train. We knew that it would naturally leave me a bit short of energy at first, but it had to be done and proved to be ideal for losing the pounds. My daily diet consisted of bacon, cheese and eggs with mayo for breakfast; for lunch it was half a roast chicken with mayo; and for dinner, two burgers with cheese and bacon (no buns) and some mayo. That was it for seven weeks, with some black coffee in between. The things that were ruled out were foods such as milk, pasta, rice, bread, potatoes and some other vegetables. Sugar also had to be kept to a minimum.

  I had to be very disciplined but at the same time it was made easier because of the support I had from everyone at our base and being able to chill out in the sun helped enormously as well. The camp was beside Mount Istan and we made good use of that in between boxing and weight sessions. Ben got a real insight into what kind of character I am and what makes me tick as a fighter when it came to tackling Mount Istan. It’s a mountain that is often used by boxers who fight at lighter divisions so Ben wasn’t expecting me, at 25 stone, to be doing anything too strenuous but he was in for a shock. He simply wanted me to walk up the steep incline and then down again, so I nodded in agreement. But when we got there I started loosening up and then took off running. Ben started smiling and was expecting me to start walking after five minutes but I kept going and going and going. I might have been wildly out of shape but nothing was going to stop me tackling the mountain. I eventually got to the six-mile spot and Ben was looking at me like, ‘Are you for real?’ He told me that this was the place where everyone stops. That was more than enough. I told him, ‘If this is the point where everyone stops then it’s not the spot where the Gypsy King stops. Let’s go!’ Off I went for another 1.8 miles to the point where I could go no further. I had hit the summit.

  At the start of our time together Ben had been hoping to help me feel good about myself again, to feel happy with my life, but after watching me do this he admitted to me that this was the point when he realised I could get back to the top of the boxing mountain. I hadn’t finished there either, because on the way down we stopped at a Christian memorial on the side of the mountain, which had about 150 metres of steps going to it. I challenged some of the young guys with us to a race. Ben said to me later that he was standing there thinking, ‘This guy is a freak of nature, a complete one-off, there’s no limits.’ I would agree with that!

  The sunshine, the diet, the training and the fun with family and friends was paying off in a big way. Any thoughts of wanting to go home were wiped away. For the first time in many, many years I was enjoying myself. Ben and everyone else could see it. They were starting to see just how serious I was about returning to the ring and I could tell Paris was loving the fact that she could see me in good form, joking and being more like my real self. The fat was burning in the Marbella heat and I felt I was truly starting to win the battle with my inner demons. My comeback was not simply down to me and Ben because everyone in that camp played their part – they helped to drive me on, to nudge me along if there was any sign that I was going to fall off the tracks again. I will always be thankful for the support of my family and friends. That time in Spain was crucial. It was one of the best decisions I made because it would give me the chance to fulfil my ambition of returning to the ring in 2018.

  The most stressful issue that arose in the camp was having to deal with the increasing interest that all the top promoters were showing in me, as this was just before I signed with Frank Warren. But I handled it. By the end of February I had proved to myself what could be done in the right environment. The weight loss wasn’t over but the Spanish mission was completed.

  I didn’t want to leave Marbella because it had been so good for me but it was time to go home and the kids had to get back to school. Ben continued to live with us in Morecambe and we increased the intensity of the training. Even though I had lost so much weight and had got my boxing licence back, there were still many people who just didn’t believe I would ever get back in the ring. But I knew it was happening. I was getting stronger by the day. Things were not perfect but the change was coming and the Gypsy King was on the move. Frank Warren made plans with BT Sport for my return and, while the fight was confirmed in May, I had already started my serious training camp. I would be returning to the ring on 9 June 2018 at the Manchester Arena against the little-known Albanian, Sefer Seferi. There was no stopping me now. I was ready to show the world that the real heavyweight champion, the true kingpin of the division, was back.

  Ben and I moved out of my house and into a hotel not too far from Ricky Hatton’s gym but also within close range of home, so that it wasn’t too hard for me to see my family when I needed to. That was important to me because sometimes I just needed to be with them and to have that break from the intensity of the training camp. This element of camps had always been very tough for me – the boredom and the monotony of the routine would drive most people mad. It was important to have a balance.

  With the fight eight weeks away, the level of sparring had to ramp up and this was going to be a test for me, or at least that’s what Ben and those around me thought. But sparring is something I have always loved and I’ve never had a fighter in front of me in sparring or in a fight that I couldn’t work out. Few people know that even when I was 26½ stone and I heard, for example, that rising British heavyweight Daniel Dubois was in Manchester, I grabbed my mouthpiece and a pair of gloves and headed over to the gym to
jump in the ring and spar with him. I did the same with another up-and-coming heavyweight, Joe Joyce, probably a future world-title challenger. Both guys are big punchers and my dad and brothers didn’t want me to spar with them, because I was so out of shape and they were worried about how it would go, as well as probably not wanting me to look bad against two hot prospects. In fact, on one occasion my dad deliberately left my gloves and gumshield behind, but I still got in there. I don’t like to talk about sparring sessions but even as badly out of shape as I was, the two young guns knew they had shared a ring with the Gypsy King.

  The next boxer to find that out, a month after I had returned from the camp in Spain, was the big Aussie Lucas Browne. He was unbeaten at the time with some good wins under his belt and he was in town preparing for a big clash against Londoner Dillian Whyte, who had given Anthony Joshua a fright in their British and Commonwealth heavyweight title fight in 2015. When I was contacted about sparring with Browne, Ben wasn’t too sure I should do it because at this point I hadn’t done any serious sparring. It had all been about weight loss up to now and Browne was preparing for one of the biggest nights of his life. So I could see Ben’s point, but as usual I was up for the challenge and when I got in the ring it was as if I had never been away. My timing and distance control was there, my balance was good and when the session was over I could see a look of pleasant surprise spread across Ben’s face. Credit to Browne, too. He came out and said, ‘That’s unbelievable.’

  Stepping up the preparation for Seferi even more, I did some sparring with a heavyweight called Dave Allen, who only knows one way to work, and that is to go in and try to take your head off! Doing ten and twelve rounds is not just about fitness, it’s about understanding how to do the rounds, using your ring intelligence, and I never lost that. Sparring with Allen was good and I had four other guys too, including another English prospect, Tom Little, and former world title challenger Mariusz Wach, who had been the distance with Klitschko. These guys helped me sharpen up my tools for battle but I also still had to lose another stone and a half before fight time, so the work gradually became more and more intense. But at the same time there was still that element of fun and the mood was positive. I was the happiest I had ever been in a camp and that was helped even more by the response from the public to my comeback fight.

  Albanian Seferi had lost only once in twenty-four fights and that was to world-rated Manuel Charr on points. But he had fought mainly at cruiserweight and was not seen as posing a great threat to me. Still, having been out of the ring for two and a half years, and having been to the pit of hell and back, it was only natural that I had to ease my way back into professional boxing again. It turned out that it didn’t matter who I was facing at the Manchester Arena that night, the public wanted to be there purely for the return of the Gypsy King. They wanted to be part of an event – the night when the lineal heavyweight champion of the world announced he was coming for the big names in the heavyweight division – Anthony Joshua and Deontay Wilder.

  Tickets for the show flew out of the box office; the public were behind me like they had never been before. I was explaining to people what I had been through, how I had come back from the brink, and so many people could relate to my story. Now they wanted to be part of my journey. Never before in my career had I sensed such overwhelming support from the public. In fight week I felt like the prodigal son: I had been given a second chance and I was welcomed back with open arms. To have the return at the Manchester Arena was special for me – I had always wanted to fight there and now I had the opportunity. The weigh-in was outdoors in Manchester and I had a bit of fun there when, after Seferi tipped the scales at just over 15 stone and we had done the usual head-to-head photographs, I grabbed him and held him in my arms like he was a newborn baby. The crowd loved it. I had weighed in at 19st 10lb 2oz, which was an achievement in itself considering the point I started from back in October.

  Fight day came and I was very relaxed. I was determined to enjoy myself and when I got to the arena and sat in the dressing room with Ben and Shane, and Paris joined us for a while, too, I felt no nerves. I was just excited that the moment had come for me to return to the stage where I felt so much at ease, so comfortable – the boxing ring was my place and I was ready to go. The knock came for me to step forward and when I marched out into the arena the acclaim from the crowd was incredible. I’ll never forget the ringwalk for as long as I live. I saluted the crowd and then enjoyed myself, even giving Seferi a kiss as the referee brought us together before the opening bell! I waved him on, did some showboating and enjoyed the show as the first round began. Then in the second round I picked up the pace of the fight a bit, but then I got distracted by some trouble in the crowd and took a look out of the ring. But instead of trying to hit me Seferi just looked at me. He was out of his depth and I was enjoying being under the lights, doing the odd Ali shuffle. In the fourth round I caught him with an uppercut, which drove home the point about just how much he was out of his class. It came as no surprise that his corner pulled him out of there at the end of the fourth round.

  Job done; I was back. I had loved every moment of it, even if some criticism was levelled at Seferi. But I couldn’t force him to fight – he just ran until I landed that big shot. As I went home that night I was satisfied, I was happy. Life was as good as it had been for a long, long time. The show was back on the road. The world knew that Tyson Fury would soon be back hunting the big fish.

  I wish that was the end. Everything was perfect, until I spoke to my wife Paris that night. While I was riding another high point in my career, she had privately been going through hell. She had been eight weeks pregnant around the time of the fight and we were so excited about having another child. But on the morning of the bout Paris tragically suffered another miscarriage. She didn’t mention it to me before I went into the ring – she didn’t want to upset me. But she told me as soon as she could after the fight. The next day we went to hospital together and the doctor confirmed the sad news. It was heart-breaking that it had happened again and we were both a mess. Just when life seemed to have turned a corner from so much struggle, now here we were faced with another challenge. But we didn’t despair. Of course, we felt extremely low. But I’m so proud to say that with the support of our family and friends, and most of all each other, we rallied through this difficult time, and we didn’t let the loss consume us. We stayed positive, and in the weeks afterwards we kept going and tried to live as normally as we could. And, thank God, we soon found some comfort in our grief. Five weeks later we fell pregnant again. We were still heartbroken over our loss, but we felt overjoyed at the same time, and it seemed like a blessing. The experience was a reminder that my comeback, both in the ring and in life, would never be straightforward. But with the love of my family, I knew I could overcome anything.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wild Ambition

  My brother Shane’s big backside was in my face the whole way home from the gym. We were teenagers and it was our first day at Jimmy Egan’s amateur gym in Wythenshawe, south Manchester. Someone had stolen my bike so I’d had to hitch a ride back with Shane. It wasn’t the ideal finish to the day but my love for boxing and my belief in what I could achieve was bubbling over. I was gangly and raw but thanks to my trainer, Jimmy’s son Steve, the sport was already so much fun and so exciting.

  Now, fifteen years later, that same feeling had returned. I knew I was on the path to the top again, it was only a matter of time – just as I had felt all the way through my amateur career. I was still a work in progress, but that sense of enjoyment had come back with the new team I had around me, which was helping to strengthen me mentally.

  They say a happy fighter is a dangerous fighter. That truth was demonstrated by the fact that within a couple of days of the win over Sefer Seferi I was back in the gym. And I wanted to be back in the gym. The fire was burning inside me to drive myself back into contention for a shot at either Anthony Joshua, who held the WBA, IBF and WBO
titles, or the WBC heavyweight champion Deontay Wilder.

  Fighters have come back before after long lay-offs, but no one had recovered from being in the kind of mental state that I had been in and returned to the summit of the sport. I believed that I was ready to do just that. Before, I would have had a blow-out after a fight, eating and drinking heavily for weeks. I would have put on so much weight and then I would have had to go through the torture again of losing 5 stone, but not now. I was spending quality time with my family, loving seeing the kids having fun with me and each other. I enjoyed being fit again, as well as all the banter in the gym. I was therefore delighted when Frank Warren announced that I would be facing Italian Francesco Pianeta at Windsor Park in Belfast, where the Northern Ireland football team play. Carl Frampton is a two-weight world champion and Northern Ireland hero and he had a big fight against the Australian Luke Jackson in the main event, which would see the winner going on to face Leeds star Josh Warrington, the IBF featherweight champion. I was part of a huge bill, which also boasted the two-time Irish Olympic bronze medallist Paddy Barnes, who was fighting for the WBC flyweight title. The press conference to announce the fight was buzzing and the media interest was huge. I was very excited about having a step up in class from Seferi.

  Pianeta and I had sparred in 2012 when he was unbeaten, and I had been impressed with him. He went on to fight Wladimir Klitschko for the world title in 2013, losing in six rounds. He would go on to lose against another decent heavyweight, Ruslan Chagaev, but by the summer of 2018 he had seen better days. Still, for me he looked an ideal opponent considering I was still making my comeback.

  When a fighter is returning to the ring after a long lay-off, he has to take time to build himself back up to title contention. Sometimes the public might not quite understand why certain fights are made, but a fighter must be given time to feel what it is like to box round after round, to handle being back under the lights.