WRITER Elliot Worsell was invited into the inner sanctum of Tyson Fury around the Wladimir Klitschko fight โ his account in this week’s issue of Boxing News magazine.
โIโD like some porridge, please,โ Tyson said, looking towards Hughieโs bowl. โBut not like his.โ Hughieโs porridge was a lumpier take on an old tradition and evidently not to Tysonโs liking. โIโd like it smooth, not lumpy,โ he continued. โAnd could I have semi-skimmed milk instead of that soya milk stuff? I donโt know how you eat that, Hughie.โ
Hughie shrugged. Eyes sunken, cheeks red, nose blocked, Iโm not even sure he knew what it was he was eating. โYou look awful,โ Tyson offered by way of reassurance. โMake sure you stay away from me, ok?โ
The porridge arrived minutes later and Tyson inspected it as though it were a pair of Paffen boxing gloves. A frown formed across his brow. โItโs still a bit too lumpy,โ he said. โCan I have it smoother?โ
โIโm sorry,โ said the waitress, and off she went.
Next time there was a different problem. First came the frown. โItโs cold,โ he said. โCan you heat it up again? Maybe for a couple more minutes…โ
โIโm so sorry,โ said the waitress.
Off the porridge went again, while Tyson turned to Hughie. โWe should be careful what we eat in here, shouldnโt we?โ he said. โWe probably shouldnโt even be eating here actually.โ
โWhyโs that?โ said Hughie.
โThe Klitschko camp could try to slip us something in our food.โ
โOh, right.โ
โThey could give me something that makes me box rubbish on the night.โ
Soon enough the porridge was back. Tyson hoped it hadnโt been tampered with, and that it was by now smooth and warm. Thankfully, it was. โIโm sorry for the wait,โ said the waitress.
โDonโt be sorry,โ said Tyson. โItโs our fault. We donโt speak German!โ
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