CHRIS EUBANK, like his choice of coffee, is complicated. He puts a sugar into his double expresso macchiato with skinny milk, stirs it briefly and struts the Eubank strut towards the back of a sunny Brighton café.
“It’s so frustrating to be me,” he says in reference to being perennially misunderstood, and places his impressive 50-year-old frame into a chair. “But it’s great, I love it.”
That sense of self-worth, the faith he has in his opinions and values, has always been an admirable quality, even when those opinions and values are lost on many who hear them. Eubank operates with a level of self-belief that is alien in a largely insecure world; confidence so unrelenting it’s been both a blessing and a curse. Two decades ago it drove Eubank from relative obscurity to two WBO world titles, and a level of fame that is still keenly felt. Today, despite accusations to the contrary, he promises it will guide his son’s boxing career to even greater heights than his own.
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