THE CYCLONE IN THE STORM
By the 1980s, Northern Ireland had become a land of military checkpoints, bomb scares and divided communities. The province had become synonymous with violence and hatred. Against the backdrop of civil war, few would enter into enemy territory. While the majority in Northern Ireland obeyed these unspoken rules, boxers seemed to be granted diplomatic immunity. You’d often find boxers from both sides of the divide training with each other and even forming close friendships. Most sports suffered during The Troubles, but boxing found a way to cut through the fear and hatred that consumed Northern Ireland. Team sports such as football (soccer) often
McGuigan’s pragmatic approach to nationality continued into his professional career, when he was granted British citizenship. British citizenship enabled him to compete for British titles, which carried greater prestige and would strengthen his position when challenging for Commonwealth, European and eventually world titles (Irish titles lacked significant international recognition). Choosing the path of peace over conflict didn’t come without a price. After receiving British citizenship, the mocking tagline “Barry the Brit” started appearing on walls throughout West Belfast. McGuigan nearly came to blows with a group of Loyalists
a gun; however, Barry was adamant he would do more damage with his fists. McGuigan explains, “I was boxing for the whole of Ireland and fighting for peace, but the RA (IRA) were no fans of mine because in their minds I was not backing the Republican cause. Nor were the guys of the UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force).” Despite upsetting extremists from both sides of the political divide, by 1985 McGuigan had become one of the most popular figures in Irish and British culture. The charming young fighter with brown ringlet hair and a wispy mustache had earned himself the alias “The Clones Cyclone” because of his overwhelming work rate and all-action
love commits me here; ever this day, be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.” The crowd surged forward, thousands of hands reaching out, desperate for even the briefest contact with the young contender who might soon make history. The chant of “Barry! Barry! Barry!” thundered through the stadium as McGuigan finally entered the ring. Barry bounced lightly on his toes in his corner, waiting for the champion to join him. After a few short minutes, Pedroza entered the ring, arms aloft, embodying the essence of a champion. His scarlet robe with silver trim glistened under the bright lights as he acknowledged the crowd with confident poise. Once both men and their teams assembled in the ring, it was time for the national anthems. McGuigan’s father stepped forward and began his soulful rendition of “Danny Boy.” Barry would later reflect that “this wasn’t the British or Irish anthem; ‘Danny Boy’ belonged to the whole of Ireland.” As the emotional performance concluded, BBC commentator Harry Carpenter exclaimed, “Has there ever been a more emotional night in boxing than this?” The boxers’ entourages slowly filed out of the ring, and as Barry’s robe was removed, his royal blue velvet shorts trimmed with yellow came into view, emblazoned with the dove of peace – a powerful symbol on this historic night. In the opening rounds, Pedroza employed his reach advantage and sharp jab to keep the advancing McGuigan at bay. The challenger responded with looping overhand rights and persistent pressure, showing no signs of intimidation against the long-reigning champion. By the middle rounds, a tactical chess match emerged. McGuigan’s constant feinting and relentless forward movement began forcing Pedroza to work harder than he was accustomed to. The champion’s experience showed in his clinching and defensive maneuvers, but McGuigan’s
seemed to stoke the tribal divisions already ablaze within the country. Derry City FC struggled to complete their season when rival club Linfield FC refused to travel to Derry’s home ground due to safety concerns, and Ballymena FC’s team bus was torched en route to a match, eventually causing them to withdraw from the Irish Football league. Boxing, however, with its individual nature and cross-community appeal, created rare moments of unity in a fractured society. Pat McGuigan, Barry’s father,
style. It was now time for him to challenge for a world title. Standing in McGuigan’s way was Panama’s Pedroza, one of the most dominant champions in boxing history. Pedroza had held the WBA featherweight title for an astonishing seven years, successfully defending it 19 times, which remains a division record. Known for his endurance and ring craftiness, Pedroza was the definition of a seasoned champion. The Panamanian fighter was notorious for his stamina and ability to wear down
“I never wanted to represent a divided Ireland. I wanted to represent all of Ireland.”
McGuigans’s father gave a memorable rendition of “Danny Boy.”
style, was facing a significant step up in competition. In the weeks leading up to the fight, Northern Ireland experienced something remarkable: a sense of shared anticipation that transcended political divisions. Both Catholics and Protestants rallied behind McGuigan, a fighter who refused to be defined by sectarian labels. His manager, Barney Eastwood, a shrewd businessman with connections across the factional divide, had carefully guided McGuigan’s career to this moment. British boxing promoter Mickey Duff had secured the fight for McGuigan after lengthy negotiations, recognizing the commercial potential of the charismatic Irishman. The bout would be broadcast live on BBC, ensuring maximum exposure. In Northern Ireland, traditional enemies momentarily set aside their differences. Murals supporting McGuigan appeared in both Loyalist and Republican neighborhoods. In a place where sporting allegiances were typically divided along sectarian lines, McGuigan achieved the near-impossible: uniting people behind a common cause. As tickets sold out in record time, McGuigan secluded himself in training camp, preparing for what he called “the
fight of my life.” To prepare for one of boxing’s finest champions, McGuigan recalls, “Barney got me a few sparring partners identical to Pedroza; I worked on getting underneath their jab, rolling my head, forcing them back to the ropes and cutting down the ring, because we’d be fighting in a 21-foot ring. I did lots of sprinting and running. Looking back now, I trained too hard – I overtrained. I would have got more out of myself if I hadn’t trained so hard. I would have lasted longer ... I ran those roads every day.” Four hundred ninety-seven miles from Northern Ireland, Loftus Road stadium awaited. The arena crackled with electricity as the capacity crowd held its collective breath, anticipating their hero’s entrance. The iconic Rocky theme song echoed through the speakers as the Irishman emerged. He shuffled slowly toward the ring, head bowed, gloved hands resting on his trainer’s shoulders as they forged the path ahead. As the crowd roared around him, Barry quietly whispered a prayer to himself: “Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s
was a famous singer who performed in both Protestant and Catholic venues during the early days of The Troubles. This approach influenced young Barry, who would later deliberately choose not to align himself with either Nationalist or Unionist identities. “I never wanted to represent a divided Ireland,” McGuigan would later explain, “I wanted to represent all of Ireland.” This stance on neutrality dated back to McGuigan’s amateur days. In 1978, Barry was controversially excluded from the Irish National Team for the Under-19 Championships with Michael Holmes, who lost to McGuigan earlier in the year, going in his place. In response, Barry made the strategic decision to box for Northern Ireland.
while driving through Ulster with his wife and young son. As Barry prepared to drive away, one of the young men shouted “you fucking Taig,” a deeply offensive slur for Catholics. When McGuigan stepped out of his car to confront whoever had shouted the insult, no one came forward. A more sinister threat emerged just before the Pedroza fight when police informed Barry he was on the “red list” on both sides of the border, meaning McGuigan had been targeted for kidnapping by terrorist groups from both Loyalist and Republican factions. As Barry frequently traveled between these divided areas, two pairs of police officers were assigned to protect him around the clock. They also issued him
challengers in the later rounds. He was also known for being a defensive wizard, as Teddy Atlas, who advised McGuigan’s team in the lead-up to the fight, explained: “Pedroza had great eyes, a great radar; he was a defensive genius! To catch him, Barry had to throw him off his rhythm. Pedroza was a fighter who was always in charge defensively, so I told Barry to use feints, trickery – throw him off course ... Lie to him!” At 29, Pedroza was still in his prime and widely expected to handle the younger, less experienced McGuigan, despite the Irishman’s impressive 26-1 record coming into the bout. McGuigan, though respected for his power and relentless pressure-fighting
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