From the Rio 2016 Olympics to Belfast via Conor McGregor and New York: Michael Conlan returns home on collision course with Carl Frampton
Famous for his rant against the powers that be at the Rio Olympics, Conlan returns home with a keen pair of eyes keeping him in full view
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Your support makes all the difference.There are large green hats worn by leprechauns, Dr Seuss characters and the men and women that have been following Belfast’s Michael Conlan on his amateur and professional journey.
This Saturday they will file through the turnstiles in their thousands at the SSE Arena in Conlan’s hometown for what will be his first fight in Belfast since 2010. Conlan has been on a long road, winning gold medals at the World championship in Doha, the European championship in Somokov, Glasgow at the Commonwealth Games, a bronze at the London Olympics and then infamy in Rio when he lost a truly awful verdict in the quarter-finals to a blood-splattered Russian called Vladimir Nikitin.
“They stole my dream and my gold medal,” Conlan said that fiery afternoon as he stood stubborn and furious at the very edge of decency. “I knew they would do this to me: It’s a disgrace.”
On that day, minutes after the fight, I stood with him in a no-man’s land corridor, Conlan shaking with rage and the tears thick in his eyes as I tried to find a word, any word to make sense of the disgrace. Conlan had refused to leave the ring, stripped off his blood-sodden vest and raised his middle fingers to the men and women in the privileged pews sitting in dubious judgement on his life.
The Conlan vote was just one of the rotten decisions that forced dozens of officials to exit the Olympic boxing in shame; Conlan got no joy in the wretched exodus.
Conlan then had to watch in anger and frustration as Nikitin was forced to withdraw from the semi-final because of cuts, including a curving four-inch wound on his scalp which was stapled closed before the Conlan fight and still leaked dark blood during the brawl. Conlan and his loyal horde left Rio with their hats and ugly memories. The Olympic boxing authorities threatened a ban, Conlan posted a picture of the finger again; he remains unrepentant and also aware that his defiant image in defeat went global and undoubtedly raised his profile.
There was a serious rush to sign the Belfast boy and Bob Arum, a veteran of fifty years in the promoting caper, got his signature first; to celebrate the pair then recreated Conlan’s toxic, exit-finger gesture, the one he left in the minds’ of the men at ringside in Rio.
It was a Riverdance mash-up on Paddy’s day for the exiles, dreamers and all those with even an ounce of Irish in their dancing and drinking souls
The comedy hats were soon retrieved and worn with vigour for a sell-out debut in the basement at Madison Square Garden on St Patrick’s day last year. Conlan was the main attraction, the Irish bars in the five boroughs of that most mystical of Irish cities halted to watch as the latest kid from the Belfast streets walked to the ring. It was, Conlan admits, a bit crazy in the Garden that night with Conor McGregor as his main cheerleader, an atmosphere of love and some big pressure. McGregor wore fur – a long and fluffy fur coat – and praised Conlan, a double act to impact even boxing’s most casual of fans. It was a Riverdance mash-up on Paddy’s day for the exiles, dreamers and all those with even an ounce of Irish in their dancing and drinking souls. Conlan won in three and he has kept on winning, featuring on massive bills or topping his own shows. He is now seven and zero in fights, based in London and this Saturday he returns to a city he loves.
In the opposite corner a seasoned Brazilian called Adeilson Dos Santos, a man with a world title attempt on his record, will offer the type of resistance the Belfast boxing public demand: Dos Santos will go down swinging as the night ends inside and celebrations begin outside. Another fine Belfast boy, Carl Frampton, will be a ringside guest, his internal binoculars fixed on the kid in the ring. Frampton defends his portion of the featherweight world title outside at Windsor Park in the city in August. Frampton and Conlan are both nine stone dripping wet, old friends and one day they could bring that fine sporting city to a standstill. Conlan is home, Frampton is watching and a dream fight is slowly starting to take shape.
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