THE STYLIST

WINNING the world title was, without doubt, the best night of my career. I’d just been beaten by Keith Holmes, had an operation on my arm that threatened to end my career, came back against Bernice Barber, and had to change my style because I could no longer throw the straight right hand like I used to. The elbow operation put a stop to that, so now I had to kind of throw it more in a hook motion.

It was frustrating because the old one-two was my best weapon and now I was unable to throw the straight right; a go-to punch for me. If I threw the right as a bent-arm punch – a hook – I felt no pain, but as soon as it went straight, I’d feel a shooting pain go through my elbow. To throw this new right hand I had to adjust my style in order to get inside and up close. Normally I’d throw the straight right from long distance and use my height and reach to make sure it landed. But now I had to operate that bit closer to my opponent to cater for this hook.

My dad was probably one of the biggest keys to my success. He said, “This (Thulani) Malinga is tailor-made for you, son,” and I said, “Well, I’m going to have to go to him, Dad.” I then watched my dad shake his head. He goes, “Oh, no you’re not. Don’t have that in