黑洞社区

It鈥檚 a dark December afternoon in London鈥檚 East End and the grey cloud cover seems to bleed into the urban skyline. Beneath the gloom in a basement down a Hackney side street, seven construction professionals are leaning against the ropes on the inside of a boxing ring, all doing their best not to appear intimidated by the task that awaits them. They鈥檙e failing. Badly.

As the paltry light begins to fade outside, amateur boxing champion and trainer Jermaine 鈥淔lash鈥� Williams points to two figures in the assembled crowd of teenagers outside the ring, indicating that they should join him. Taking it in turns, the kids begin to throw punches at Flash鈥檚 pads. A jab here, an upper cut there, the speed and agility is at once intimidating and magnetic. Flash bobs and weaves with athletic grace, barking staccato instructions at his young charges.

It鈥檚 all over in minutes, but the effect on the construction industry鈥檚 finest is tangible. They slouch a little heavier on the ropes, their eyes open ever so slightly wider. 鈥淭his is the day of your awakening,鈥� says Flash with a grin.

The scene is the deranged product of 黑洞社区鈥檚 collective imagination. In an attempt to raise a bit of money for charity in the festive season - and have a bit of fun at the same time - we decided that for one week only, rather than report the news, we would make it. And lo, 黑洞社区鈥檚 Boxing Day was born, the pun being only a fringe benefit.

Senior construction industry types would be asked to take part in a series of boxing-themed trials, all competing to be named champ and avoid being chump. The story of how they got on is one of adversity, single-minded determination and, ultimately, triumph .

Keeping them in the ring

Over the past year, 黑洞社区 has built up a relationship with the Boxing Academy, an East End charity that provides an education to 13-16 years old, often with serious anger management problems, who would otherwise be excluded from school. In other words, the children the academy works with have exhausted their chances of a regular schooling and are in serious danger of falling out of education altogether, with all the implications for their future lives that entails. For those who turn their lives around with the academy鈥檚 support, a job in construction is an attractive option.

With around 35 pupils, the Boxing Academy aims to provide not just an education, but structure and discipline.The day begins with breakfast and proceeds to a vigorous, strictly overseen training session. Only once the kids have taken out their frustrations in the gym does their formal education begin.

Impressed by the results of the academy鈥檚 work, 黑洞社区 thought it would be a good idea to organise a fundraiser on its behalf. We put our heads together. How about a straightforward boxing competition? This had the appeal of simplicity, but also the threat of serious injury and goodness knows what insurance liabilities - the possibility of one reader knocking nine bells out of another didn鈥檛 bear thinking about. So how about a non-contact but still boxing-themed competition? Better. Less potential for split eyebrows and blood on the canvas.

The Boxing Academy was up for the challenge of designing a sufficiently testing set of trials (鈥渨e鈥檝e got a LOT of ideas,鈥� said chief executive Anna Cain), so we set about enlisting victims. Or rather willing participants. It鈥檚 fair to say that not everybody jumped at the chance, but eventually we secured the enthusiastic support of six industry heavyweights. So, in the red corner, we have Trustmark鈥檚 Liz Male, Rise鈥檚 Gareth Stapleton, Blue Sky 黑洞社区鈥檚 Julian Daniel, Cestsure鈥檚 Emma Clancy, HLM鈥檚 James O鈥橲ullivan and Urbanis鈥� Bola Abisogun.

Hit squad assembled, the competitors鈥� minds turned naturally enough to what they would be doing. On this point we had been deliberately vague, but soon relented when the emails started coming in. 鈥淲ould you be kind enough to articulate exactly what we are required to do?鈥� wrote Bola in a round robin. 鈥淚鈥檓 not sure I want to carry the responsibility for knocking out fellow industry heavyweights/female colleagues. [I鈥檓] very keen to break a sweat for a good cause, but no blood please - I鈥檓 squeamish!鈥�

Julian responded: 鈥淚 was more concerned about getting knocked out by a female colleague. I bruise easily and once got a black eye shadow boxing.鈥� For those who don鈥檛 know, shadow boxing is effectively fighting a mirror. For Julian to have got that black eye, he would have had to have punched himself in the face. Amusing, but worrying.

Worn down by polite but insistent enquiries, we relented. Participants could be asked to take part in a circuit training session, supervised by Boxing Academy staff and students. They would be judged on effort - the competitor that the academy felt 鈥渃ommitted鈥� themselves to the circuit most. So, no blood - hopefully.

And so we fast forward to that afternoon in Hackney. As the team recovered from Flash鈥檚 demonstration, a late entrant clambered into the ring in the shape of 黑洞社区鈥檚 own news editor Allister 鈥淭hunder from Down Under鈥� Hayman. (鈥淏lunder from down under more like,鈥� quipped one of his colleagues) But hang on a second, what鈥檚 the hack wearing? Are those 鈥� leggings? 鈥淲hat? Is that not appropriate? It鈥檚 my gym outfit.鈥� Never mind.

鈥淥kay, here we go,鈥� shouted assistant head teacher and coach Jordan. 鈥淓veryone to their stations.鈥� Someone turned up the volume on a pounding hip-hop soundtrack and the torture began.

Showtime

The ensuing 40 minutes was manic, as every 45 seconds the competitors moved from one station on the circuit to another. There were eight stations in all, from sparring sessions in the ring with Flash to heavy bag work and a particularly brutal looking sit-up exercise involving medicine balls. As the noble athletes completed the circuit looking sweaty but otherwise pretty pleased with themselves there came a shock announcement.

鈥淭hat鈥檚 the first circuit done, just two more to go,鈥� shouted Jordan. 鈥淵ou鈥檝e got a minute鈥檚 rest.鈥� And so it continued, with the team looking ever more exhausted as they staggered from station to station. 鈥淭hey like to inflict pain,鈥� observed Anna coolly. 鈥淚 mean that in the nicest possible way, obviously. You wouldn鈥檛 catch me doing this - it鈥檚 a killer.鈥�

They were a mixed bunch, all physically fit (we checked) but differing in age and size massively. At the smaller end Emma must have weighed considerably less than the punch bags she attacked with such ferocity, while Gareth used the bulk accumulated from his preferred sport, rowing, to throw some ferocious punches at Flash. If he had actually made contact we could have been in trouble, but given Flash鈥檚 proficiency in the ring that was never going to happen. He is, after all, the reigning Amateur Boxing Association鈥檚 middle weight London champion, having won the nationals in 2011.

As the only practising boxer in the group, Liz looked proficient, but it was clear that the heat of battle was getting to her when she charged at yours truly in the break between circuits two and three and started jabbing my chest. Rather roughly I thought. 鈥淵ou. Mate. Are. In. There.鈥� Liz indicated the ring. Couldn鈥檛 possibly. Objective reporting. Plus, sweat can play havoc with soluble ink. Hands are tied. Sorry about that. Must get back to the job at hand 鈥�

With a background in Taekwondo, Bola thundered home punches both into the bag and Flash鈥檚 pads with impressive ease. In fact he looked quite at home in the ring - though not wearing leggings helped too obviously. For his part, James went about the trials with great stoicism. The tallest member of the group was dedicated and earned the respect of the academy鈥檚 staff and pupils. This was particularly impressive given that his boss Chris Liddle - originally down to take part - had retired and gallantly volunteered his replacement services a mere 48 hours earlier.

And then there was Julian. By some distance the oldest competitor, he attacked the circuit with the energy of a man 20 years younger. As the rounds went on, his already dour expression knitted ever tighter in concentration, the dark sweat stain on his beloved Hull United football shirt growing in dimensions and depth. When the final bell rang, Julian looked like a man beaten but unbowed. It was a bravura performance.

Flash beamed happily at the athletes as they sank down to the floor or doubled over, hands on thighs, before leading a cool down session. When the group did a final lap of victory around the ring, they were given warm and heartfelt bear hugs by trainer John as they reached the finishing line. After 45 minutes of hell they looked done in but happy - and ready to head to the pub.

But first there was the serious matter of announcing a winner. The team gathered in the Boxing Academy鈥檚 common room and was offered a heady mixture of branded bracelets, individual medallions and Quality Street chocolates while the trainers deliberated. It didn鈥檛 take long and when announced the verdict was unanimous. For his relentless determination and staying power - not to say sweaty patches - Julian was declared 黑洞社区鈥檚 Boxing Day Champion.

It was an emotional scene, not least because all the remaining teenagers applauded with such sincerity. And as Julian was handed his trophy - forever more to occupy pride of place on his mantelpiece, or so 黑洞社区 would like to imagine - the emotion of the moment seemed to inspire him to hitherto unimagined heights of rhetoric. 鈥淚 can鈥檛 hold the cup up - my shoulder鈥檚 gone,鈥� he said. 鈥淔eel how heavy that is! It鈥檚 hurting my arm.鈥� It goes without saying that the cup was about 10 inches high and emphatically not fashioned from precious metals.

Still, what a guy.