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  It was just too much to take and so I went out drinking with my cousin Justin until 5 a.m. I was as sick as a pig and on the day of the weigh-in I thought to myself, ‘I’ll have this fight, get paid and then retire.’ When I went to the scales I felt wrecked. I got an early night, had some breakfast and then tried to get myself ready for Nascimento. I walked into the ring thinking about my dad and really, what was the point of fighting on if he couldn’t be there to see me? But midway through the first round, I cannoned a right hand off Nascimento’s chin and he crashed to the canvas. Credit to him, he got back up and fought hard but another right hand I landed at the end of the fifth round put him down so hard that he rolled on to his face and the referee called a halt, which was just as well because I was shattered and was saying to myself, ‘Please don’t get up!’ I should have been celebrating such an exciting win but in the shadow of my dad’s news it really meant nothing. From then on it was pretty tough to keep myself positive because I missed my dad terribly.

  But just as I was feeling as low as I had ever felt as a professional, it was announced that five months later in July I would be fighting Dereck Chisora for the British and Commonwealth heavyweight titles at Wembley Arena. On paper this was to be by far my toughest fight so far and, once again in my career, I was a big underdog at the bookies. The general feeling among the so-called experts was that Chisora had too much experience and would be too strong for me, but I had no doubt I would win.

  In the opening round I made a clear statement with the way I teed off on him with some good right hands. The second round was far more competitive. He got my attention with a right hand that made me back off but I regrouped and then we went at it, toe-to-toe, for the remainder of the round. I realised that I had moved up to another level and would have to produce my best performance to date.

  Chisora continued to drive forward in the following rounds, throwing his looping shots, but by the middle rounds I felt I was in control. I was catching him as he was coming in to attack and it was taking the sting out of his punches. It was a great heavyweight scrap for the British and Commonwealth titles and we got a standing ovation from the Wembley Arena crowd before the judges awarded me a unanimous points decision.

  I had taken my lumps and come through to beat a top-ten world-ranked heavyweight. As you can see, unlike many prospects, I wasn’t being wrapped in cotton wool. I was in the school of hard knocks, learning my trade the tough way so I would be ready for the ultimate challenge down the line.

  Things were not going to get any easier in my next fight, when I was given the chance to top the bill at the iconic King’s Hall in Belfast in September. When I arrived there for a press conference to announce my fight with Nicolai Firtha, an American who had gone the distance with some good guys like former world champion Alexander Povetkin, everyone was very welcoming. I got a great reception, better than I had ever had in England. They know their boxing in Belfast, they respect a true fighting man and were eager to see me in the flesh. They were not to be disappointed with the spectacle they witnessed.

  Bang! My knee buckled; everything went black. I could hear the excited noise of the crowd; I was properly hurt for the first time in my career. Firtha had caught me with a sweeping right hook in the third round and now I was in survival mode. I went dizzy, lost my vision but somehow I got through it. It felt like a long time but the effects of the punch lasted for about twenty seconds. As the round wore on, my vision came back. It was weird because I could feel Firtha in front of me, I could hear the referee saying, ‘Break’ because I was holding on, but my eyes were spinning. It was like a TV station without a proper signal. I was on the brink. His corner were shouting, ‘Take a point away, referee, he’s holding’ and I thought, ‘I don’t care if they take a point away, I have to hold.’

  I recovered and early in the fifth I caught Firtha with a right hand, which swung the fight my way again. I didn’t let him off the hook and when the referee stepped in to stop it the crowd were singing, ‘Ole, ole, ole, ole.’ I had survived my first real crisis in the ring and I was certainly developing a reputation as a fighter who brings excitement whenever I put on my gloves.

  This feeling was further enhanced when I met the unbeaten Canadian Neven Pajkić two months later in Manchester. Pajkić had been shooting his mouth off about what he was going to do to me but I was as confident as ever and that showed in the first round as I cruised through it. But then suddenly my Commonwealth belt was well and truly on the line when I hit the canvas for the first time in my career. I didn’t see the punch coming and those are the ones that can do the most damage. Fortunately, I can honestly say that I wasn’t as hurt as badly as I was in the Firtha fight. It wasn’t like I got caught and my legs went; I had been hit square on so I couldn’t get the balance to absorb the punch. But I was down and I was angry because I had allowed myself to hit the deck. It was like tipping petrol on a flame and I ignited in the third round. I hit Pajkić with a crunching body shot and right hook and then chopped him to the canvas with my right hand. He got up but another combination had him over again and, although he got to his feet again, I caught him right away and the fight was stopped.

  I felt that no other heavyweight on the planet was in fights like these so early on in their career, and as a result I was learning at a fast pace. When you get matched with easy fights you don’t experience these things, and then when you later get caught in a crisis situation at the very highest level you don’t know what to do. But I have fought tough people throughout my career and it has stood me in good stead. I’ve got more unbeaten fighters on my record than any other heavyweight around today. I have to give Mick Hennessy credit for giving me those fights, but at the same time, if I wasn’t the fighter I am I’d never have made it through them. I’d have lost.

  That win over Pajkić took me into the top ten in the World Boxing Council’s rankings at the start of 2012. I was going to have a good Christmas and look ahead to what I believed would be a year to bring me a lot closer to my dream of becoming world heavyweight champion.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rolling with the Punches

  I’ve only had four truly tough fights in my life. The dramatic world-title fight against Deontay Wilder in 2018, the second fight with John McDermott (because I wasn’t fit) back in 2010, my fight with Steve Cunningham in New York in 2013, and my battle with depression – the hardest of the lot by some distance.

  At this point in my career, going into 2012, I was on a real roll. My last four fights in 2011 had been some of the most exhilarating in the heavyweight division. Nobody else was bringing that kind of excitement to the division, and certainly not the world champion, Wladimir Klitschko, who during those same twelve months had one boring and one-sided victory over David Haye. Then in March 2012 he defeated another washed-up cruiserweight in Jean-Marc Mormeck, whom Haye had beaten to become the undisputed world cruiserweight champion. I knew I was becoming a major contender on the heavyweight landscape, though as I headed back to Belfast for an Irish title fight, I couldn’t have imagined that in twelve months’ time I would be lighting up the Big Apple in the famous arena at Madison Square Garden.

  First, I had to deal with a taxi driver called Martin Rogan, who had enjoyed his own Rocky story. He started his professional boxing career in his late thirties, much later than most fighters, but managed to win the Prizefighter tournament that Sky had introduced, which saw eight men line up for quarter-finals, semi-finals and then final – all on one night, with each bout over three rounds. It might have been bar-room brawl entertainment, but it shot Rogan into the spotlight and he grabbed his opportunity with both hands. He immediately went on to beat 2000 Olympic champion Audley Harrison before having the win of his career when he defeated Matt Skelton for the Commonwealth heavyweight title before losing it to Sam Sexton, all in the space of twelve months. He then had a couple of wins over journeymen and now I was matched with him for the vacant Irish title on 14 April 2012.

  It could have been seen as a b
ackward step for me, considering the four exciting victories I had just enjoyed against very good opposition, but fighting for the Irish title meant so much to me. If you go into my house, you’ll see the green Irish title belt standing out very proudly. It’s prized because it was the hardest one to come by. The rest of the belts I won by just beating fighters but for this one I had to spend months proving my Irish heritage.

  I knew that it was going to be tough for me to prove my ancestry and secure the chance to fight for the belt, simply because of what had happened with the Irish Athletic Boxing Association, who had denied me the opportunity to represent Ireland at the 2008 Olympics, but we got there in the end. My cousin Andy Lee also played a part in me proving my right to box for the belt. Eventually, after all the politics that I had gone through, it was a very proud moment when I was told that the fight was made and that I would have my chance to win that green belt.

  On my previous visit to Belfast, I had been given a warm welcome and this time it was even better, even though Rogan was popular with the locals. Those at the weigh-in seemed to enjoy my rendition of Elvis’s ‘In the Ghetto’ and on the night I found I had good support. Afterwards I received another great reception as well.

  This was also a significant moment because it was the first time that I had my uncle, Peter Fury, in my corner and it was to prove to be the start of a great working relationship. It lasted right up until 2018, when I returned after three years out of the ring. My uncle Hughie had done a superb job with me but I do feel that Peter turned me into a world-class boxer. Before, I thought I had to entertain the fans, and I wasn’t that bothered about nutrition or strength and conditioning. But I knew I had to do more than what I had been doing if I was to beat the elite-level fighters. I had to get more serious about using my skills and showing more ringcraft if I was going to get to the very top. I also needed to whip myself into better shape so that I could move on up to the highest level.

  Uncle Peter had spent time in jail on two occasions and it was while in there that he made some changes to his life, including developing a greater understanding of health and fitness. Both myself and his son Hughie, who would go on to fight for the WBO heavyweight title, losing a disputed points decision to Joseph Parker in 2017, before winning the British heavyweight title in 2018 by stopping Sam Sexton, would benefit a lot from that knowledge. As Peter and I prepared for that fight in Belfast I could see that I was moving up a grade in my preparation. Peter made it very clear the kind of disciplined performance he expected from me and I was determined to carry out his instructions.

  Walking to the ring that night to face Rogan was a very proud moment because I knew that the Irish title would soon be in my possession and I knew how much that would mean for my mum and dad and the whole family. The noise was electric inside the Odyssey Arena as I made my way to the ring; the Belfast fight fans clearly enjoyed the entertainment and charisma I brought to the ring.

  For this fight Peter had decided to make me box southpaw for the first time in my career, which meant that instead of leading with my left jab I was leading with my right. I was able to adapt very quickly to southpaw and could comfortably switch back to orthodox, leading with my left hand as I would naturally do. Peter decided to make the alteration because he felt that I was getting caught too easily with right hands in previous fights, which had seen me hurt by Nicolai Firtha when I last fought in Belfast. This vulnerability had also led to me being put on the canvas by Neven Pajkić in my last fight, five months earlier.

  Against Rogan I boxed to Peter’s orders and picked him off in a disciplined, smart way before knocking him out in the fifth round. I was elated, and as I walked back to the dressing room the reception I received was tremendous. It was clear to me at that time that I was being respected more in Ireland than I was in the UK – they appreciated me for who I was, a real fighting man.

  Three months later, I was back fighting in England after being matched to face New Yorker Vinny Maddalone for the vacant WBO inter-continental heavyweight title – a belt that doesn’t mean a lot but it nevertheless helps to push a fighter up the ladder towards a world title shot.

  Maddalone had fought at a good level, mixing in decent company, but I produced a stand-out performance that night in Clevedon, Somerset. My work with Peter was starting to click and on that night I felt very sharp and composed and took Maddalone apart. Having worked well from a southpaw stance in the win over Rogan, I was back to boxing orthodox. My defence had tightened up and I was pumping out my jab with venom, dominating the New Yorker and whipping in home spiteful body shots. He was bleeding badly and I was hammering him so hard that I actually called in the referee to halt the fight in the fifth round as Maddalone rocked and reeled while trying to cover up from my onslaught. The arena was rocking with chants of ‘There’s only one Tyson Fury’ and Channel 5, who screened the fight live, were delighted with the viewing figures.

  After dishing out a one-sided beating to Maddalone, I was heading back to Belfast for a WBC heavyweight title final eliminator against unbeaten Germany-based Russian Denis Boytsov on 1 December – or so I thought. Boytsov withdrew three and a half weeks before the fight and instead I was matched with American Kevin Johnson, who in 2009 went the distance with Wladimir Klitschko’s brother Vitali, who at that point was the WBC heavyweight champion. While he had lost on points over three rounds in the final of Sky’s Prizefighter event, he was a strong opponent at such short notice. Unfortunately, the WBC did not feel he was good enough to keep the fight as a final eliminator so it was deemed just an eliminator. That meant there was no guarantee that I would become the number one challenger for the WBC belt.

  But I had a job to do. I had to keep brushing aside every challenger before I could be given my shot at the world title. Once again, there was plenty of interest in the fight and the local papers and television were giving me prominent coverage ahead of what was supposed to be an acid test – some pundits even thought that Johnson’s experience and ringcraft could cause an upset. Today, Johnson has continued to fight on long past his best, but in 2012 he was a dangerous opponent and at the pre-fight press conference we enjoyed some verbal sparring. Johnson insisted he was going to ‘Navy Seal my ass’ because I wasn’t ready for what he was bringing to the fight. We went nose-to-nose as I reminded him he wasn’t in my league.

  When we finally entered the ring and let our fists do the talking, once again I boxed to Peter’s orders. This time it meant that it wasn’t as exciting as previous bouts. Johnson couldn’t handle the fact that I was able to pick him off from distance so the fans didn’t get as much drama as they had hoped for, but I’d shown that I had the self-control needed for the highest level and that was crucial. Looking back, that was one of the key performances in my career because I proved that I could box in a very disciplined manner over twelve rounds against a top heavyweight, which is what I would have to do when the time came to face Klitschko.

  I rarely celebrate after a fight. I’m just happy to go back to my hotel and fly home the next day to chill out with my family and often my friend Dave Reay. On this occasion when we got back to the hotel, Johnson was there and all the pre-fight animosity was behind us, so much so that we ended up entertaining the guests in the hotel as he played the piano and I sang a few songs. Belfast had been good to me once again.

  Going into 2013 it felt like a world-title opportunity was now only a matter of time, but getting that shot at Klitschko was going to be a lot harder than I ever could have imagined. I knew that he picked his opponents very carefully; he was beating up a lot of guys who were nowhere near his level. Even when the prestigious WBC title did become vacant at the end of 2013, after Wladimir’s brother Vitali finally retired having held the belt since 2008, I was still kept out of the picture. I should have been given my chance to fight for that title because I had beaten Kevin Johnson in an eliminator and Bermane Stiverne had defeated Chris Arreola in another eliminator as well. I know that Arreola had a win after that but the natural s
howdown was between me and Stiverne. But, instead, for some bizarre reason the WBC matched Stiverne and Arreola for the vacant title, twelve months on from their first fight, and I was frozen out. That’s when you realise how boxing politics behind the scenes controls so much of what happens in this business. I wouldn’t have the opportunity to fight for the green WBC belt until 2018 when I stepped into the ring with Deontay Wilder in Los Angeles.

  I was naturally deeply frustrated, but to keep up the momentum in my own career whilst my team worked away in the background to push me towards the mandatory position in the world rankings, I was given the chance to have a big fight at Madison Square Garden. I’m a huge Frank Sinatra fan and, to paraphrase the great man, if you can make it in New York, you can make it just about anywhere. I was going to be facing the American former world cruiserweight champion Steve Cunningham, who had moved up to heavyweight. Just four months prior to facing me he had only lost on points to former world heavyweight title challenger Tomasz Adamek. It would turn out to be my toughest fight – and my favourite ring battle.

  Being at the mecca of boxing, Madison Square Garden, was a dream come true even though everything around the fight turned out to be a little chaotic. The official press announcement of the world title eliminator, which was being screened coast to coast on NBC, started well enough and was great fun. Cunningham and his team were knocked back when I wound them up in front of all the New York press guys, who just lapped it up. I felt like I fitted in just right in the Big Apple because they love an entertainer. This was the first time I had faced a world champion and I told him I was going to retire him. I announced to the press, ‘This is a three-hit fight: I hit Steve, Steve hits the floor and Tyson Fury hits New York. I’d like to sponsor the bottom of his boots so I could get more Twitter followers because when he hits the floor everybody around the world will see it.’