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From the Listener archive: Features

June 23-29 2007 Vol 208 No 3502

Shane Cameron

Feature - Upfront

Shane Cameron

by Matt Nippert

Six-foot-two (1.87m) and with arms like jackhammers, Shane Cameron is earning a reputation as the Buck Shelford of boxing.

Rated New Zealand’s biggest heavyweight hope since the glory days of David Tua, a bloodied Cameron turned heads in March after he broke his hand yet still managed to knock out Australian Bob Mirovic. Cameron, 29, won a bronze medal at the 2002 Commonwealth Games, turned pro soon after and under the moniker “Mountain Warrior” has compiled an undefeated record – 18 wins, 16 by knockouts. The International Boxing Federation ranks him 14th in the world and later this month the former dairy farmer headlines the Fight for Life charity boxing event.


Talk us through that fight against Mirovic. The first round was the round that I broke my hand. It’s just one of those freak things that shouldn’t happen in boxing, I threw an overhand right and caught him on the top of the head – a real hard part of the skull. Something had to give and it just happened to be my hand. It felt like my knuckle was pushed back into the middle of my hand, and it was swelling up.

I got cut in a clash of heads in the fifth round. There was a bit of blood, but I’ve been cut in the past and it hasn’t really bothered me before – it can be a bit annoying if it gets into the eyes.

Weren’t you worried about the long-term loss of one of the tools of your trade? You can’t fight with one arm. I did in that fight, but I had no choice. I didn’t let it affect me, and I certainly wasn’t going to lose. Fortunately, it’s healed up really well. I had an operation to line up the bone – the metacarpal, just one in from the pinkie. They ran a couple of wires through the middle to hold it in place and, as they say, she’s as good as new.

What drew you to such a brutal sport? Where I’m from, a little farming community called Tiniroto, 40 minutes inland from Gisborne, there was no boxing club. I’d always wanted to get involved, but the opportunity never came up until I went to England at the age of 18 and laced up and had my first amateur fight two years later. My grandfather used to fight in the early 1930s and I’ve always liked listening to his stories.

What do you remember from your grandad? He was boxing on the boat that he came over on from Scotland at the age of seven. He’d go running at three in the morning, running all up the hills. They’d go sparring with no mouthguard, no headgear, and probably only little scraps of gloves – hessian or horsehair. May as well just have been bare fists.

My grandad didn’t win the world title, but the Depression days were very tough and that’s one of the reasons he stopped boxing. He was the only one fending for the family. He was working, the parents weren’t working, so he was the one bringing in the bread and butter by going to work in the breweries.

Did you ever get into fights outside the ring? Yes, too much. I spent two years in England before I started boxing. Obviously when you’re in England doing your OE, having a good time, you drink a lot of alcohol. I just went through a stage where I might have a fight in the pub every weekend. Every weekend.

At the time it seemed good, but I look back now and just think, “What an idiot. What damage I could have done to someone.” Once I started boxing, I haven’t fought outside the ring. That’s 10 years.

You just downed a blended concoction of tuna, spaghetti and pineapple. What’s it taste like? It’s got a taste of its own. An acquired taste. It doesn’t bother me, though, it’s easier for me to blend it up and drink it down rather than sit there and eat, straight after training. Just blend it up, drink it down. It’s all over in a couple of minutes.

There’s talk about you fighting Evander Holyfield in October, but he’s almost old enough to be your father. [Laughs] He would have to have been a young dad, but certainly he’s not far off. Evander is a warrior and legend in his own right. At 44, he’s matching it with guys 10 years younger than him. Certainly I’d like to say I wouldn’t be boxing at 44, I’d want to be finished by the time I get close. But you never know …

You also sparred with the man who bit Holyfield’s ear. Is Mike Tyson really as crazy as he seems? He was actually, surprisingly, very respectful. Obviously he’s got that side to him, but I didn’t see it. Most of the world’s seen it and it’s there, like a time-bomb waiting to go off. But I can say that he certainly respected me. I didn’t give him any leeway and I didn’t take a backward step, either, and I think Mike respected that.

Of course you don’t want to follow Tyson too closely and end up bankrupt or in prison. Having his knockouts would be nice, and the money. He’s still got a $3m house in Phoenix, and drives around in flash BMWs.


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