FROM the moment he glides regally out of the entrance to his handsome home in a quiet suburb of Accra, Azumah Nelson is instantly recognisable.
Although approaching his 67th birthday, ‘The Professor’ doesn’t look much heavier than in his fighting pomp and there is nothing punchy, ponderous or hesitant about his movements. Clad in a white shirt emblazoned with the face of a lion, he retains the warrior aura that characterised his magnificent career as a two-weight world champion.
However, it’s the look in Nelson’s deep brown eyes that lingers longest – a look of depth, intelligence and determination that sears into your soul. ‘The Professor’ may be long retired, but his legendary intensity is clearly undimmed.
I am at Nelson’s home thanks to British-Ghanaian fight promoter and manager Michael Amoo-Bediako, who has persuaded the former WBC feather and super-featherweight champion to allow Boxing News to watch him training with 24-year-old Samuel Takyi – the hottest young boxing prospect in Ghana, who last year signed a managerial deal with Amoo-Bediako’s Streetwise Management.
Amoo-Bediako sees a training session with ‘The Professor’ as an invaluable educative opportunity for his young charge as he seeks to manoeuvre him towards world honours, as he did so skilfully with Richard Commey, who he discovered in an Accra gym in 2010 and guided to the IBF lightweight title within six years.
“I sent Samuel to Azumah Nelson because he is the godfather of African boxing,” Amoo-Bediako says. “Of all people, he knows what it takes to succeed coming from such a poor background. His career is second to none – he was a world champion for 10 years and he did it in an era that was stacked with great champions.
“For a developing fighter like Samuel, just to be in Azumah’s presence is awe-inspiring, and to be able to take from him first-hand knowledge of his experiences reaching the top is invaluable.”
Nelson is certainly the greatest boxer Ghana has ever produced – is no mean feat as the West African country has a rich fighting heritage, having produced nine male world champions stretching back to the pioneering David Kotei, who lifted the WBC featherweight crown in 1975.
Remarkably, the majority of these champions – Nelson included – have hailed from Bukom, a poor but proud area in the Jamestown district of Accra where fighting and fishing are intrinsic to everyday life.
Takyi is the latest pugilistic talent to emerge from Bukom’s remarkable production line and today will be the first time the Olympic bronze medallist has trained with Nelson, who has no contractual or financial stake in the youngster but views it as his duty to impart his considerable wisdom to those youngsters following in his formidable fistic footsteps.
But before Takyi heads laces ‘em up in the gym in Nelson’s compound home, we sit and talk with ‘The Prof’ in his living room. Outside, the midday sun and humidity of a typical Accra day are punishing, but inside it is blissfully air-conditioned, as Nelson spellbinds us with vivid memories of a legendary fighting career.
My friend Kwab begins by telling Nelson what his heroics meant to him, a young London-born boy growing up with Ghanaian parents in 1980s Britain.
“I remember watching you fight Pat Cowdell on television in 1985,” Kwab explains while Nelson listens intently. “You knocked him out in one round and after the fight you were holding a Ghanaian flag. As a young boy with Ghanaian parents, it meant so much for me to watch you wave the flag and be so proud of it.”
Nelson nods appreciatively, before recalling his own memories of that clinically savage performance at the NEC Arena in Birmingham.
“I told people that they should come early for that fight so they could see me knock him out,” he says. “But they didn’t believe me. When the fight started, lots of fans were still outside! Some were not even in their seats and the fight was already over. I did warn them, but they hadn’t listened!
Nelson’s confidence stemmed from the diligence of his preparation. “If I was going to fight 12 or 15 rounds I would train to fight for 25 rounds, so I had a lot of stamina,” her says.
“I always wanted to take the fight out of the judges’ hands and came to knock the other man out. If you tried to go toe-to-toe with me, like Cowdell did, then you were in trouble. He threw some punches, I caught them, then I threw the uppercut and buried him.”
When Nelson fought Cowdell, he was defending the WBC featherweight title he had annexed from Wilfredo Gomez for a second time. Just over three years earlier, however, when Nelson faced the formidable champion Salvador Sanchez at Madison Square Garden for the same belt he had entered the ring as a 13-0 unknown, having stepped in as a substitute for the injured Mario Miranda at just 17 days’ notice.
Stopped in the final round of a titanic battle, and deprived the chance of a rematch by Sanchez’s tragic death a few weeks later, Nelson smiles at the memory of this ferocious showdown.
“I lost, but the fight helped make my name,” he says. “It showed people watching across the world and the other fighters in my weight division that I was somebody, that I was coming for them and that they needed to be ready.”
‘The Professor’ insists that, with the benefit of a full training camp, he would have prevailed in a rematch that remains one of the great boxing hypotheticals. That he asserts this without coming across as arrogant is testament to his considerable charm, as well as the intermittent sparkle in those ever-intense eyes.
Nelson’s intensity and will to win were bred by the harsh poverty amid which he was raised. Indeed, what a Hollywood film producer would call his ‘origin story’ is key to understanding ‘The Professor’.
“I first walked into a gym when I was nine or 10,” he recalls. “I had seen a small boy wearing boxing gloves and shoes. I looked at the size of the boy and thought: ‘I can beat him’. I went to his trainer and said: ‘Is this boy a boxer? I can beat him.’
“The trainer told me to come to the gym the next day. The first punch I threw, he dodged. Any time I threw a punch he dodged and then he started punching me. He beat me so badly.
“I was so ashamed. I went back to my house and thought: ‘what did I do wrong? Why couldn’t I punch him?’
“The following day, I went back. He beat me again, but not as bad as the first time. I could see I’d improved. I soon realised I needed a good coach, to teach me how to stand, how to dodge, how to punch. If you have someone like that, you can go far.”
Nelson certainly went far. After six defences of the WBC featherweight title, he moved up to super-feather, where he enjoyed two reigns, securing memorable victories against Gabriel Ruelas (twice) and Juan Laporte among others, and engaging in fierce multi-fight rivalries with Jeff Fenech and Jesse James Leija.
It is his second fight against Fenech in 1992, which Nelson won by eighth-round stoppage in front of 40,000 rabid Australian fans, which he nominates as the most memorable bout of his career, mainly because “everyone was doubting me and telling me I shouldn’t go there”.
In the lead-up to that fight, Nelson even fielded a telephone call from Jerry Rawlings, then-president of Ghana, who informed the boxer he was concerned about him making the trip to Australia.
“I told him not to worry, and that I would knock Fenech out,” Nelson recalls. “I also told the president I would call him before I entered the ring, and I did. In the first round I hit Fenech with three jabs and then a right hand and he went down. All Ghanaians then knew they didn’t have to worry!”
While Nelson has been regaling us with tales from his career, Takyi, a tall but slender figure, sits quietly, listening intently, smiling politely and laughing at the older man’s good-humoured assertions and one-liners.
As the training session approaches, Nelson has some words of wisdom for the youngster.
“In Bukom we are very tough,” Nelson intones. “Anybody from Bukom can be a world champion if they want to be. If you don’t become a world champion, then your coach is not good enough, and your training is not good enough. You don’t have many years in boxing, so the few years you do have, you have to work hard and make the most of them. Put the hard work in when you’re young.”
With these words reverberating around his head, Takyi heads across the courtyard to Nelson’s gym, a reassuringly old-school sweatbox.
‘The Professor’ gets Takyi to shadowbox several rounds, while he shouts periodic instructions, keeps meticulous time and never allows his gaze to waver from what Takyi is doing.
The youngster moves with purpose and grace, but Nelson continuously urges him to find more power and speed in his punches, shadowboxing himself by example and shouting, “pow, pow, pow!” as he punches the air.
After further punishing sessions on a wall pad, and a heavy bag, as well as a series of challenging stretches and floor exercises, Nelson asks James, Michael Amoo-Bediako’s PA: “When is he fighting?”
“In 10 days, Prof,” James replies.
“He’s ready,” ‘The Professor’ nods as he heads back to his house.
Takyi and I sit on the ring apron as he reflects on the experience of an hour’s intense training with the greatest boxer Africa has ever produced.
“I’m very thankful to everyone for this opportunity,” he says, quietly and humbly. “Training with ‘The Professor’ – the legend himself – is very different but very special. I’ve got the dedication ‘The Professor’ talks about to go all the way. He has given me even more motivation.”
Takyi’s route into boxing was eerily similar to Nelson’s.
“One day a friend told me about a boxing club, so I went along,” he says.
“There was a guy they said was their champion and they asked for volunteers to fight him. I put my hand up straight away. It was very tough, he beat me up. But one of the coaches told me: ‘hey you can fight, you’re a hard guy!’
“So I started going to the gym and soon I was able to turn the tables and defeat the guy who had beaten me and become a champion myself.”
After being picked for the national amateur squad in 2018, Takyi made it through the Olympic qualifiers and “by God’s grace” won bronze in the Tokyo Games, held in 2021 after a Covid-enforced postponement from the previous year.
“When I came back with the bronze, life was very different,” he admits. “All sorts of new things began happening. I’m blessed now, to be working with ‘The Professor’, for example. I’ve won African gold and Olympic bronze and the next aim is to be world champion. Ghana doesn’t have a world champion right now.
“Like ‘The Professor’ said, I have to work hard, listen and take advice if I am to get to the places that he got to. Yes, I might fight abroad one day, but I always want to come back home to Ghana. I want to build the nation up, like ‘The Professor’ has always done, and help my people and the boys coming through.’ They need someone like me to help take them to the top, to teach them, so we have more Professors’, more world champions.”
After our chat, Samuel carefully packs his kit into the boot of his modest sponsored car parked outside the gym. We turn to leave, but ‘The Professor’ summons us for one final audience in his front room, and a blissfully cold drink.
We thank him for his hospitality and before we leave he turns his attention once more to Samuel and other young boxers like him.
“The future is up to them,” Nelson says. “I am happy to train these boys, but it is all down to the individual and their hard work. I don’t sign contracts with anyone. God gave me my career for free, so I give my advice for free. Listen if you want to listen, but you do not have to…
“And now, I must rest.”
And with that, Azumah Nelson – hero of so many battles – retreats gracefully into the cool of his bedroom, content with who he is, what he has achieved, and the wisdom he has imparted.
We head into the omnipresent humidity to book an Uber, while Samuel departs for the next stage of his boxing journey, hoping that the path that began with a poverty-stricken childhood in Accra might eventually wind its way – as it did for ‘The Professor’ – to fistic stardom.
