Friday, December 09, 2005
Up close and personal with Nick Durandt, South African boxing legend
So it's Saturday, and Nick's there. And he hasn't met me before. And I walk up to him and go, 'Hey Nick. I'm Roy. S's boyfriend. Can I take a pic of you on my cellphone as reference? I wanna do a sketch of you?'
He's no stranger to photos. In his office, there's a snap of him with Joe Frazier (signed), and another of him with Don King (signed), and another of him and Madiba (signed).
He looks at me as though I'm a punching bag, and he's working out what size gloves to hit me with. 'Sure,' he says, and I snap a pic.
And I sit on the couch while S gets into the ring with Evans and spars lightly. I draw. And Damien, Nick's kid comes to see what I'm up to.
'Can I give you some advice?' he asks.
He's 14 years old. And S says he whacks the punch bag like a pro. I say, 'Absolutely.'
He says, 'My dad normally wears the hat much lower on his forehead.'
So I make an adjustment and show him.
'Ya. That's it.'
He's going to be a cricketer when he grows up. (His mom doesn't want him to box. But he still trains anyway.)
I show Nick. 'Hey,' he says. 'Not bad.' I show him the pics I've done of Evans and Mr Jones. 'Not bad,' he says. 'Do you do action pictures? I've got a few photos. I'll bring them. Maybe you can come round and do a few. We could sell them at fights. Fans dig this sort of thing.'
In the ring, S catches Evans on the side of the head, and he drops like a stone. Of course, she didn't 'catch' him, and he didn't realllllly drop. He's just humouring her.
Oh. Hang on. On second thoughts, maybe she did take him out. I'd better be careful what I say! She's a machine!