by Nigel Benn
The most wonderful thing about Carolyne is how she looks after Dominic, Sadé and Renée, my kids by Sharron. My situation with Sharron is so difficult. When the kids go to see their mum, I hope she doesn’t bad-mouth me. But kids grow up. Once, when I was slagging off Sharron, Sadé said, ‘Don’t say that, that’s my mum you’re talking about.’ And from that day on, I’ve never said a word about Sharron to the kids. So as I say, one day the kids will grow up, and then they’ll understand.
She’s with a bloke called Clem now, and I’ve got no problem with him. My kids respect him and they talk about him in my house. If he spoke to me, I’d speak to him. No problem. But Sharron’s another matter — I’ve even heard that she’s been known to use my name to get into clubs and stuff. My name! So if you’re reading my book, Sharron, don’t use my name. Don’t call yourself Mrs Benn! Clem’s name is Clem St Clair, or something like that, not Clem St Benn!
In the middle of all this is Carolyne, my soulmate, my perfect woman. She was only a young woman when I met her — twenty years old. Suddenly she’s having to take on my kids, court cases. I’m not going to get better than her, because she accepted my three kids as well as me. The most brilliant thing is how the kids love her, they really love her to death. When Carolyne said once that she was going away for a week, Sadé cried. She loves Carolyne badly — they all do. They’ve known each other since Dominic was about five. They were like babies when they first met, so now they really know her.
And she’s never raised her hands to the kids, ever. She really shouts at them sometimes, and Sadé cries when she does, because she loves her so much, and she doesn’t like upsetting her. Carolyne is like a mum to them, and gives them all her affection. I’m determined to give them the proper upbringing that they deserve.
I had to go through a terrible custody battle over the kids. I can’t tell you how painful it was for me, having to get up in front of a judge and try to explain why my kids should live with me and not their mother. At the end of the court case, the judge gave me a really hard time — and Sharron, too. She was up in that dock for ages. And to make it worse, everyone knows about it. If a normal person has problems, they deal with it at home. If I have problems, everybody reads about it in the papers.
But Carolyne’s helped me through all that. She is my backbone, and thanks to her I now have the most fantastic family life, living with five wonderful children.
Dominic is the eldest. He’s 12 now, and he’s a big, strong boy — built like his dad! He’s smart, too; I sit down with him, and try to teach him about life. I try to guide him in the right direction. I don’t want to control his life, but I do want him and all the other kids to know that if they ever want my help, it’s there for them. As and when they go out into the big wide world, I want them to have understood a bit from Dad. I’ve come up from the street — I got a degree in streetwise — and I want to pass a bit of that on to Dominic, so he knows he’s not going out there blind. I don’t know what the street’s going to be like in another ten to fifteen years time, I don’t even want to think about that, but I do want my kids to be prepared for it.
Deep down inside, Sadé is a very shy, sensitive girl. She’s a really lovely person, and I can see that she hates hurting our feelings. Of all my kids, I think Sadé’s the one who’s feeling the whole relationship situation the most, but she’s slowly growing out of it. She’s definitely been the most affected by it, though. So with Sadé, you have to go easy on her — but you still have to be firm, because she’s the kind of girl who could easily run wild if you let her go.
Renée is a beautiful, happy-go-lucky little girl, but she and Sadé fight all the time. They argue a lot, but if I see it happening, I have to come down hard. I don’t know what happens in the other house, but I don’t want to see two sisters who love each other fight so much. Any problems they’ve got between them, they leave at my doorstep. But little Renée, I love her to death, I really do.
Conor and India, Carolyne’s and my twins, are just wonderful. The day they were born, 28 September 1996, I was the happiest man in the world. Ever since I’d been with Carolyne, we had so desperately wanted to have children together — at one stage we were having sex three times a day, just so that Carolyne would get pregnant. We took a trip to Hawaii so we could get away from everything, from our chaotic lifestyles, to relax and try for a baby. But it just wasn’t working. She even had a course of IVF treatment which meant having to have injections every day, which added to the trauma we were experiencing. And as for me — on a few occasions, I started having what I can only describe as phantom pregnancies. I would become so sure that Carolyne was pregnant I’d find that I couldn’t eat a thing. I was even having morning sickness — it was weird. Then, as soon as Carolyne started her period, I began eating again!
I can’t even begin to describe the happiness I felt when Carolyne told me she was pregnant — and with twins. It was one of the most wonderful days of my life, and I literally had tears in my eyes. It was the one thing that Carolyne and I had been wishing for, the thing that would make our lives complete, and nothing could bring us off the cloud we were on.
The twins are so beautiful — Conor looks like me and India looks like Carolyne. And it’s so funny, watching the two together, it’s just unbelievable. They’re always together, playing, looking out for each other, looking after each other. When they were born they were so little — India was 4lb 3oz, and Conor was 5lb 7oz. Once, when they were really young, India was in bed, and she started trembling like a leaf. Conor started rocking his cot and looking over at India, who was shivering uncontrollably. I took India into my bed, but she was still shaking, so at about 5.00am I took her to the hospital. The doctor had to grab her leg to try to find a vein in her foot. India looked up at me, and her little eyes were saying, ‘Daddy, daddy, it’s hurting me!’
I just burst out crying, I didn’t know what to do. I told the doctor, ‘Hurry up, will you? Fucking hurry up!’ I just lost it. When your kids are suffering like that, your mind goes. I know he was doing his job, but I was desperate — my daughter’s looking me in the eye and saying, ‘Daddy, he’s hurting me, please stop him …’ It’s enough to drive a man crazy!
I love our daily routine, in which I take the kids to school and pick them up again. I cook their dinner for them, everything. That’s where I am at the moment, just caring for my beautiful wife and family.
Carolyne became my wife on 4 June 1997, and in that one simple act she gave meaning and direction to my life.
20
MINISTER OF SOUND
A lot of people soon get to the point where they just want to put on their slippers, stay at home and watch TV every night. That’s not me. I don’t want to be 60 and say I wish I had done this and that when I was 30. Just because you are married doesn’t mean you have to start living like a married couple, where she does the needlework while you sit down with the crossword. And just because I’d finished boxing, it didn’t mean I had no ambition left. I believe in living life to the full. When the grim reaper knocks on my door, I want to be able to say to him: ‘Come on in, I’ve done everything I’ve ever wanted to do, come and take me. I have no regrets.’
The time when I was really living my life to the maximum was when I first got into the hardcore rave scene in the late Eighties. Man, they were good times. A while back I watched a TV programme on which all these hippies were talking about what it was like back in the Sixties. And the more I thought about it, the more I understood what they were saying. Those hippies had their time in the Sixties, while the Eighties and early Nineties — well, they were our time, my generation’s party time, the time of the hardcore raves. Those hippies in the Sixties were all off their heads — well, it was just the same in the Eighties and Nineties.
Drugs have never been part of the scene for me, though. I don’t want anything to do with them. I once tried some cocaine in America but that put me off for life. I sprinkled a bit on my finger and tasted it with my tongue but I wouldn’t
snort it. I don’t agree with stuffing things up your nose. It would stop me from getting what I want in life. I’d rather have money in the bank.
Nothing upsets me more than when people say that I’m into drugs. Michael Watson made that mistake a couple of years ago. After Michael had been injured by Chris Eubank, I visited him in hospital. I just broke down and cried when I saw him, and it wasn’t even me who’d inflicted the injuries. I took his mum shopping after the fight, and bought her loads of stuff. I just remember thinking that I hoped someone would do that to my mum if the same happened to me.
Just before Christmas 1993, Michael was robbed. Thieves ransacked his house, taking his TV and stereo and all his memorabilia and pictures. Everything. It was sick! I can’t think of anything more low or disgusting. He was in a wheelchair and still suffering from brain damage. I would happily pay somebody a lot of money to tell me who it was. Michael was in tears when he told me about it. So I asked him round to my place for Christmas and bought him a replacement TV and stereo system.
So, one day we were talking on the phone, and he said to me, ‘So, Nige, you off the gear?’
‘What gear?’
‘You know, the white gear … the charlie.’
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. ‘Let me tell you something,’ I said. ‘I ain’t never been on the gear to get off the fucking gear. Why you coming to me asking these questions? Where did you get this from?’
‘I heard it from other people.’
‘See you later, Michael,’ I said, and put the phone down. I was really upset that Michael thought I might be doing that stuff. I’ve had plenty of offers, and there are plenty of boxers I know who’ve been on the Special K. Some of them have retired and some are still fighting — they know who they are without me naming them. I even confronted one guy with it when he was bad-mouthing me — and he was shoving charlie up his nose at the time! Not my scene, mate.
I haven’t spoken to Michael since that day. I want him to know how much he upset me when he said that to me. Despite everything, I really love the man.
But drugs or no drugs, the scene was good in those days. We used to go to the Ministry of Sound, where there was a good crowd in the early days. Everybody knew everybody, and Master P was the DJ who was carrying it at the time. Sometimes we’d hang out at the Ministry until about 10.00am, then move on to The Bridge, The Park in Kensington and then on to the Café de Paris, which was the club. In those days, the DJs on the scene were guys like Justin Cantar, Micky Simms, and particularly Matt Jam. Those guys were carrying it on a US tip, the music was mellower, more like party music. These days it’s all UK Underground, which is all attitude, much darker.
Nowadays, I don’t really think of myself as a boxer any more — I think of myself as a DJ, and I strive to be as good a DJ as I can possibly be. Being a DJ is just as important in my life now as being a boxer ever was. This is my challenge now. I look up to the American guys, such as Louis Vega, Roger Sanchez, Dave Morales, CJ Mackintosh — men who are so tight, you can bet your bottom dollar that there’s going to be no bump in the record when they’re at the decks. When you listen to these guys mix, you just get lost and think, ‘Please God, one day let me be able to be a quarter of what these guys are.’
In the same way that I was a world champion, these guys are world class, too. I’ll never be number one like them, but as a DJ now, I’m just looking to give people a good time, and have fun myself. It’s a big challenge for me, too, because the scene is full of people knocking me, saying I’m just getting off on my name to get the gigs. Well, let me tell you, I don’t care who you are. If you’ve got the Queen mixing up at the Ministry of Sound, and she’s screwing it up, you’re off the decks, Ma’am! It doesn’t matter who you are, you’ve got to be able to mix it, to get the crowd going, and if it ain’t working, you ain’t playing there again.
That’s the level I’m at now — people can enjoy my music and come up to me and say, ‘Yeah, wicked set, Nige!’ I’ve got my decks set up in a room in my house, where I practise whenever I get the chance. I’ve got a set of Technics 1200 decks, and a Uri mixer — just like they have in the Ministry of Sound. Let me tell you, you’ve got to be tight to use a mixer like that — it’s the complete guv’nor! There’s no cross fader, so if you can’t handle the mixer, there’s no place to hide.
That’s not what Frank Bruno thought, though, when we were both doing a set at this club in Birmingham. It was decided that there should be a Nigel Benn vs Frank Bruno DJ-ing competition. I thought it sounded like a laugh but, naturally, I wanted to be the champion! So I hit the deck and played a wicked two-hour set which really got the crowd rocking. I was pleased with it, and was like, ‘Follow that, Frank!’
So it gets to Frank’s turn, and he starts playing this monster set, really getting everyone moving. I was impressed, so I walked round to the decks only to see some other guy doing the mixing! Frank was even having a conversation with Carolyne. I don’t think Frank asked to get paid for that gig.
Frank is funny like that — very, very funny. He had me in fits of laughter once at a Buckingham Palace garden party by taking the mick out of everyone. The party was held to honour world champions, and I think Prince Edward represented the Queen. Frank had everyone around him rolling about with laughter. I always knew he was a joker, but when I saw him at the decks I couldn’t believe it!
The music that I’m into now reminds me of those days gone by, those good times when everybody was happy. They were the happiest days of my life. And when I look back on it, I realise that one of the most important parts of my life back then was my relationship with Rolex Ray.
Ray and I were like brothers. I’ve never been as close to anyone as I was to him, and I never will be. We used to party hard together, and he always encouraged me in my boxing. In fact, it was Ray’s encouragement and help that got me through a bad time after my first fight with Malinga. I was very down because although I had won on points, I was not very happy with the way it went. Ray took a more positive role and persuaded me to train with Jimmy Tibbs. I wasn’t sure if Jimmy would want to train me, but Ray insisted on taking me round to his gym and I’ve never looked back since then. He also did the decent thing and insisted we speak first to my previous trainer and explain the position to him.
Some of the people I knew were hangers-on who tried to lead me astray because party time for them meant that I was footing the bill — even at the expense of my boxing. Now, Ray, I’m not saying he never led me astray, he just got me to party really hard. But he never let my partying interfere with the boxing; he always had respect for that. But the partying we did, Man! He’d hire out a whole penthouse suite at the Barbican just for us to have a good time. And he was heavily involved in the music with me — we used to go down to the Ministry of Sound at night, a whole group of us, just to practise our mixing. They were some hardcore days, some really happy days.
A lot of stuff has been written in the press about how Ray and I fell out, but he knows the truth, he knows how he ruined a good friendship. The whole episode is so hurtful to me. I was more upset about splitting with Ray than when Sharron and I separated. It was as though another brother had died. And now I’ll never, ever speak to him again.
A couple of times a month I go out to Cyprus or Rhodes and DJ in the clubs out there, and it’s in those places that I do most of my playing now. Like I’ve said, the UK Underground scene is much darker, full of guys with attitude, and I’ve got to put my family first. It’s all down-in-the-dungeons music, and there’s a lot of wannabe gangsters out there. I don’t want to have to risk potentially violent situations, and if I’m in a club and somebody’s disrespectful to my wife, then they’re being disrespectful to me and I’m not going to take it. He’ll inevitably come looking for me with a gun, I’ll go looking for him with a gun — why would I want to be put in that position? Something can so easily go seriously wrong, but I love my wife and kids too much to let that happen.
So now I spend a lot of
time at home, with my beautiful wife and five wonderful kids. I love being at home with them, and we have a lot of fun together. When Dominic and I battle it out for football supremacy on Playstation, I’m just as competitive as I was with Eubank! And Dominic, even though he is disabled and only has the use of one hand, has the heart of a sportsman — and can even whoop my ass from time to time!
I love my kids — they are the focus of my life now. But I’m strict with them just as my dad was strict with me. Since they’ve been living with me, their marks at school have gone through the roof, and that’s because I make them work. I wouldn’t want Conor to be a boxer — I went through that so he wouldn’t have to. But they are going to have to graft just like I did, because I want them, like me, to be satisfied with their lives and what they’ve achieved.
When I look back over my life, I feel proud at what I’ve done, and now I feel so lucky to be surrounded by the people I love. I don’t miss the fight game, because my life is as full now as it has ever been, but not a day goes by that I don’t think about it, relive my victories, consider the highs and lows of my turbulent career. I’ve come a long way since I was a kid on the streets of Ilford. Nigel Gregory Benn, the Dark Destroyer, two-time champion of the world, 42-5-1. That’s a good record, a career to be proud of. And if anyone wants to disagree — well, then, they’ll have me to argue with.
POSTSCRIPT
Nearly two years have passed since I first sat down to write this book. When it was first published, the reaction was incredible. Members of the public, people who had supported me throughout my whole boxing career, queued up to buy copies, and to get my autograph. It was amazing. But since then, my life has changed beyond all recognition.
