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Qatar Tribune
18-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Qatar Tribune
The Voice of OFWs: DJ Meow, from airwaves icon to community leader
Darlene Regis He has an energy-infused, masculine DJ voice you've likely heard before — a familiar and warm presence on the airwaves that has become instantly recognizable across Qatar's Filipino community. You can catch him on Pinoy Heart Radio (PHR), spot him at media conferences, and see him in action during outreach programs and community events. He is a household name in the Filipino diaspora, popularly known as 'DJ Meow' — but behind the mic is Romeo Esmeria Villegas Jr., a man driven by passion, purpose, and people-first advocacy. DJ Meow has been a cornerstone of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) in Qatar for over 16 years. As the PHR Founding Chairman, his passion for broadcasting and commitment to community service, creates a platform that resonates with the modern heroes in the Middle East and around the world. Why 'DJ Meow'? Where does the moniker come from? 'It's simple,' he laughs. 'It's from my name — RoMeo. I added a 'W' and it became DJ Meow. It's quirky, catchy, and easy to remember!' From Tambo Pamplona to Qatar's Airwaves Born in Manila, grew up in Bicol, and lived in Tambo Pamplona, Camarines Sur, DJ Meow's journey is a testament to humble beginnings and unwavering determination. 'I am the youngest in a brood of four,' he shares. 'Despite our financial challenges, I worked while studying to support my education, juggling jobs and studies that opened doors to opportunities abroad.' His perseverance paid off, leading him to Qatar, where he initially worked for an MEP company for eight years. 'The transition wasn't easy,' he admits. 'The cultural differences and strict work environment were challenging. But I endured, learned, and grew.' OFW by Day, DJ by Night While many recognize DJ Meow as the voice behind PHR's broadcasts, his primary profession is as a Document Controller and trainer. 'Managing records and ensuring document accuracy is my day job,' he explains. 'Being a DJ is my passion and a way to serve the Filipino community.' 'In 2013, we organized our very first Typhoon Relief Operation in Laguna for over 200 households, and as of now, we have completed 44 outreach programs — both here in Doha and in the Philippines,' he says. 'It started over 12 years ago as a small platform for Filipino voices and has now grown into a vital community hub,' he adds. Service with Recognition DJ Meow's contributions have not gone unnoticed. He's received multiple recognitions, including the Outstanding Leadership Award, Trainer of the Year, Plaque of Inspiring Change Award and Honors from the Philippine Embassy in Qatar, UFOQ, and AFJQ. 'These recognitions motivate me to continue serving our kababayans,' he says. Under his leadership, PHR was nominated for the 2021 Presidential Awards for Filipino Individuals and Organizations Overseas by the Commission on Filipinos Overseas under the Office of the President of the Philippines. Exclusive Interview with Qatar Tribune What inspired you to start Pinoy Heart Radio? I wanted to create a platform where Filipinos could feel at home, share their stories, and support each other. PHR was born out of that desire. How do you balance both careers? It's all about passion and purpose. I work all day and serve the community at night. What are some memorable events you've led? Feeding programs, free medical missions, concerts like Parokya ni Edgar and Gloc 9, and outreach during Philippine Independence Day. What's your favorite moment on air? When listeners send messages saying our shows uplift them or our charities helped their families. That's the real reward. What message do you have for fellow Filipinos in Qatar? Never give up. Help others even when you know they can't help you back. That's true service. Looking Ahead As DJ Meow continues to juggle his roles, he remains committed to his mission. 'I'm just happy with what I'm doing right now,' he says. 'If I can make someone's day better through music or kindness, then I've done my part.' His legacy? 'Just to be remembered as a simple, friendly person who used his voice and heart to uplift others,' he concludes. Whether through airwaves, events, or acts of service, Romeo Villegas Jr. – DJ Meow – has built more than just a name. He's built a bridge between hearts in Qatar and the Philippines, one broadcast at a time.
The Guardian
17-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
A century at ringside: the Boxing Writers Association of America at 100
When the Boxing Writers Association of American holds its annual awards dinner in New York on 30 April, it will mark the organization's 100th dinner and the start of its 100th year of existence. The Boxing Writers Association of Greater New York (as the BWAA was originally known) was founded by Damon Runyan, Paul Gallico, Ed Sullivan, Nat Fleischer, Edward J Neil and Wilbur Wood with the stated mission of improving conditions at boxing events for New York writers and their visiting colleagues. Babe Ruth headed the list of celebrities who attended the organization's first dinner which was held at the Hotel Astor on 25 April 1926. Five of boxing's eight world champions were there, as were writers from 20 cities. The New York Times trumpeted the keynote address given by New York City mayor James J Walker with the headline, 'Keep Boxing Clean, is Mayor's Warning.' Beneath that, a sub-headline declared, 'Walker Tells 1,000 at Writer's Dinner, Police Will Aid in Driving Out Undesirables.' 'The Mayor,' the article recounted, 'said the day of the thug in boxing was gone and that rowdies or groups of rowdies no longer could direct a decision by threats of what would happen in case it went contrary to their wishes. Bouts should be won in the ring, he said, and not in side rooms or back rooms.' The mayor also stated that boxing had 'never had an organization to go to the front for it' and that, if attacks were made in the future, the writers would 'take up the cudgels for the game.' 'The dinner,' article concluded, 'was interspersed with elaborate entertainment in which Broadway's popular theatrical stars and widely known entertainers of the leading nightclubs of the city participated.' One year later, the boxing writers returned to the Hotel Astor. This time, newly-crowned heavyweight champion Gene Tunney was the guest of honor. Tex Rickard was among the one thousand celebrants. And once again, Mayor Walker was there. Times change. One hundred years ago, people got their news primarily through newspapers. Radio was just coming into its own as a force. Television was in the future. The National Football League was five years old. The National Basketball Association didn't exist. Baseball and boxing were America's two national sports. Boxing is now a niche sport in America. The time when every major newspaper had a writer on staff who understood the sport and business of boxing and wrote regularly about it is long gone. But the BWAA has survived. The awards that it bestows annually are still coveted. And with that in mind, I'd like to acknowledge some of boxing's best from the past 100 years. The BWAA began giving out annual awards in 1938 when it designated a 'Fighter of the Year'. That was followed by the creation of awards for 'Manager of the Year' (1967), 'Excellence in Broadcast Journalism' (1982), 'Trainer of the Year' (1989), and 'Fight of the Year' (2002). Other awards have been created (including several for writers) but attract less attention. So herewith, my choices for what I'll call the BWAA 'centennial awards'. Keep in mind that the timeline for consideration begins in 1925, which rules out fighters like Jack Johnson and the young Jack Dempsey. The BWAA has never given out an award for 'Promoter of the Year'. But a tip of the hat is in order to three men who took the sport to places it had never been to before. Tex Rickard created the role of the modern promoter, made boxing respectable in the highest echelons of society, and fashioned the sport's first $5m gates. Before the BWAA came into existence, Rickard promoted Jack Johnson v James Jeffries and Jack Dempsey's fights against Jess Willard, George Carpentier and Luis Firpo. Later, he promoted Dempsey-Tunney I (which drew 120,757 fans to Sesquicentennial Stadium in 1926) and Tunney-Dempsey II (which brought 104,943 spectators to Soldier Field in 1927). Rickard wasn't a choir boy. In 1922, he was indicted on charges of abducting and sexually assaulting four underage girls. He was found 'not guilty' after a trial relating to one of the girls and the other cases were then dropped. When he died in 1929, more than 10,000 mourners jammed Madison Square Garden for his funeral service and 10,000 more lined the streets outside. Bob Arum began promoting fights in 1966. Since then, Top Rank (his promotional company) has promoted more than 2,000 fight cards and 700 world championship fights. Arum has been on the cutting edge of new technologies and was the first major player in boxing to understand and exploit the power of the Hispanic market in the United States. Don King was larger than boxing; dominated the sweet science (and particularly the heavyweight division) during his glory years; and for decades was one of the most recognizable people on the planet. King had the genius to turn fights into events of sociological importance, as evidenced by his bringing Muhammad Ali v George Foreman to Zaire. There have been other promoters worthy of note. Mike Jacobs controlled boxing at Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium and the Polo Grounds from the mid-1930s until 1946 when he suffered a stroke. Jacobs wasn't a mobster but he made accommodations with the mob. Regional promoters like George Parnassus in Los Angeles and Herman Taylor in Philadelphia also left a mark. But Rickard, Arum, and King are 'the big three'. That said; Rickard took a sport that was illegal in most states, created events of extraordinary magnitude, and brought boxing to every level of American society. More than any other promoter, he left the sport better off than when he found it. Jimmy Cannon once opined, 'The fight manager wouldn't fight to defend his mother. He has been a coward in all the important matters of his life. He is cranky and profane when he talks to the kids he manages, but he is servile when addressing the gangster whom he considers his benefactor. He has cheated many people but he describes himself as a legitimate guy at every opportunity.' In 1967, rejecting that characterization, the BWAA began honoring a 'manager of the year'. A good manager can build a fighter from scratch and also take a successful fighter and make him better. Jack Kearns was the quintessential manager of his time. Kearns was a crook. But he knew how to make money and build a fighter. He built Jack Dempsey, Mickey Walker and Joey Maxim, and later managed Archie Moore. Al Weil (an equally unsavory character) managed Rocky Marciano, Marty Servo, Lou Ambers and Joey Archibald. Other managers like Al Haymon (who's also a de facto promoter) are worthy of note. But I'd highlight the job that Bill Cayton (with assistance from Jim Jacobs) did in managing Mike Tyson, Edwin Rosario and Wilfred Benitez and later (on his own) for Michael Grant and Tommy Morrison. No one – and I mean, no one – did a better job of building a fighter from scratch than Cayton did with Tyson. And Cayton did the job remarkably well for his other fighters too. His personality sometimes grated on them. He wasn't good at protecting his flank. Fighters left him. But they were usually less well off for leaving. Sam Taub was a journalist and radio broadcast commentator who covered boxing from the Roaring Twenties into the turbulent 1960s and would be forgotten today but for the award for 'Excellence in Broadcast Journalism' that bears his name. The Sam Taub Award was first given out by the BWAA in 1982 when television was in full bloom. But the gospel of the sweet science was initially spread by radio. Graham McNamee is widely regarded as the originator of play-by-play sportscasting and was behind the microphone for both Dempsey-Tunney fights in addition to numerous World Series and Rose Bowl games. Joe Louis's first-round knockout of Max Schmeling on 22 June 1938 was the high point of the marriage between boxing and radio. NBC carried the bout on 146 stations throughout the United States. Clem McCarthy called the blow-by-blow in what was arguably the most important sports broadcast of all time. Gillette began sponsoring Friday night fights on radio in 1939. Don Dunphy's first title fight behind the microphone was Joe Louis v Billy Conn in 1941. He called fights on the radio for Gillette for 19 years before segueing to ABC television in 1960. Dunphy preferred to work solo on TV, saying that, when two or three people are involved in calling a fight, 'they overtalk.' Asked by a young reporter why he sat silent for long stretches of time during a round rather than narrate the action, he replied, 'Son, this is television. People can see what they're doing.' Howard Cosell rose to prominence in the 1960s as an ardent defender of Muhammad Ali and, for almost two decades, was synonymous with boxing on television. His presence at ringside made fights more important to viewers than might otherwise have been the case. Cosell has been dead for 30 years. But his cry of 'Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!' still reverberates. Jim Lampley was HBO's blow-by-blow commentator for 30 years and had everything necessary to be great. An understanding of the sport and business of boxing; the ability to summarize the action in terse sound bites as it unfolded (not two seconds later); and an electric voice that demanded attention. Dunphy was the trailblazer. Cosell had the greatest impact. Lampley was the best. I'll go with the best. George Gainford used to boast, 'I'm the greatest trainer who ever lived. I trained Sugar Ray Robinson.' The response he often heard was, 'George, you've had hundreds of fighters. Why weren't they all as good as Sugar Ray?' Most great trainers acknowledge that the fighter makes the trainer; not the other way around. But a good trainer helps. A lot. Some legendary men have served as trainers over the past century. Ray Arcel, Jack Blackburn, Charlie Goldman, Cus D'Amato, George Benton and Emanuel Steward come to mind. But the honor is formally designated by the BWAA as 'The Eddie Futch Trainer of the Year Award' for a reason. 'Mr Futch' (as he was known throughout boxing) helped mold countless world champions including Joe Frazier, Riddick Bowe, Michael Spinks, Ken Norton and Alexis Arguello. Freddie Roach has been honored with the Futch award a record seven times. But Roach would be the first to agree that Mr Futch (who was his mentor) was the master. Let's start with a clarification. The rematch between Joe Louis and Max Schmeling was an event of monumental importance. But it wasn't a great fight. The third encounter between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier was as good as a fight can be. But it lacked the social and political significance of Ali-Frazier I (which was also a very good fight). So which of the three fights just mentioned deserves recognition as the BWAA's 'centennial fight'? When Joe Louis began his ring career, not a single black person played a prominent role in the American establishment. Moreover, as Arthur Ashe later noted, 'Joe was the first black American of any discipline or endeavor to enjoy the overwhelming good feeling, sometimes bordering on idolatry, of all Americans regardless of color.' All of Louis's fights encompassed the issue of race. Louis-Schmeling II went beyond that. The bout was viewed as a test of decency and democracy versus Nazi doctrine and totalitarianism. Also, Ali-Frazier I was contested against the backdrop of a bitterly divided nation. But America was united in the hope that Louis would defeat Schmeling. It was the first time that many white Americans, particularly in the south, openly rooted for a black man to beat a white opponent. Louis-Schmeling II was an annihilation rather than a competitive bout. But one-sided fights grow larger through the prism of history. And on that particular night, America wanted an annihilation. So, yes; Ali-Frazier I captivated the world. But society was unchanged afterward. And if Ali had won that night (which he did in his next two fights against Frazier), the world wouldn't have changed. Louis-Schmeling II epitomizes the importance of boxing at its peak. That's why it's my BWAA 'centennial fight'. That leaves the most important award of all: the BWAA Centennial Fighter. Listed alphabetically, there are five entrants on my list: Muhammad Ali, Henry Armstrong, Sugar Ray Leonard, Joe Louis and Sugar Ray Robinson. I'm looking here at skill rather than social significance. So right away, Joe Louis gives way to Ali. Now we come to the three smaller fighters. Boxing fans know that Henry Armstrong won multiple titles. But in recent decades, the concept of a 'world champion' has been watered down. So let's put what he did in perspective. Armstrong fought 27 fights in 1937 and won all of them, 26 by knockout. He captured the featherweight crown that year by knocking out Petey Sarron. Then, over the next nine months, he added the welterweight championship with a lopsided decision over Barney Ross and annexed the lightweight title with a victory over Lew Ambers. He held three world championships simultaneously at a time when boxing had eight weight divisions with one champion in each division. Sugar Ray Leonard was a complete fighter. He could box. He could punch. He had handspeed and heart and could take a punch. 'And he was smart,' adds trainer Don Turner. 'Bill Russell smart. Ray did whatever he had to do to win.' Leonard won his first world championship in 1979 by knocking out Wilfred Benitez. Benitez was a true champion with a 38-0-1 record; not a mediocre alphabet-soup beltholder. Then Leonard fought back-to-back fights against Roberto Duran, who had 72 victories in 73 bouts. Ray suffered the first loss of his career in their initial encounter. Defying the conventional wisdom that a fighter doesn't come right back and beat the fighter who beat him, he fought an immediate rematch and forced Duran to say no más. On 16 September 1981, Leonard fought Thomas Hearns. Hearns was undefeated, a ferocious puncher, 32-and-0 with 30 knockouts. Leonard-Hearns was a time-capsule fight. Ray dug deep, fought through adversity, showed every quality that a fighter needs to be great and stopped Hearns in the 14th round. That night, he entered the ranks of boxing immortals. Six years later, Leonard cemented his legacy with a split-decision victory over Marvin Hagler. Prior to that bout, Hagler had won 11 consecutive middleweight championship fights and hadn't lost in 11 years. There's a belief among knowledgeable boxing people that Sugar Ray Leonard is the best fighter to have plied his trade subsequent to Sugar Ray Robinson. 'Subsequent to Robinson.' That's the key. Robinson is the gold standard against which all fighters are judged. 'He had everything,' Eddie Futch said. 'Boxing skills, punching power, a great chin, mental strength. There was nothing he couldn't do. He knew almost everything there was to know about how to box. When Ray was in his prime, he owned the ring like no fighter before or since.' Robinson was a natural welterweight who knocked out middleweights with one punch. In his first 131 professional fights, he lost once. In 201 fights spanning 25 years (a career that began before Pearl Harbor and ended at the height of the war in Vietnam), he suffered a single 'KO by'. That came when he challenged Joey Maxim for the light heavyweight championship and collapsed from heat prostration after controlling the fight for 13 rounds. Eighty-five years after his pro debut, Robinson is still thought of as the greatest fighter of all time. As great as Muhammad Ali was, Sugar Ray Robinson is 'The Centennial Fighter'. The 100th annual BWAA Dinner featuring 'Fighter of the Year' Oleksandr Usyk will be held on 30 April at the Edison Ballroom in Manhattan. Tickets for the event may be purchased through or Gina Andriolo at ginaandcom@ Thomas Hauser's email address is thomashauserwriter@ His most recent book – MY MOTHER and me - is a personal memoir available at In 2004, the Boxing Writers Association of America honored Hauser with the Nat Fleischer Award for career excellence in boxing journalism. In 2019, Hauser was selected for boxing's highest honor - induction into the International Boxing Hall of Fame.
The Guardian
11-04-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
‘People live to 90 and don't do half of what I've done': Boxing trainer Joe Gallagher on facing up to cancer
'I am a little scared,' Joe Gallagher says quietly as, in a deserted room upstairs at his famous old gym in Moss Side, Manchester, he addresses the stage four bowel and liver cancer that has taken hold of him. Two hours earlier, while giving me a guided tour of the Champs Camp gym where history and sweat seep from the peeling walls, Gallagher had been in roaring flow. As six of his fighters shadowboxed each other, feinting and weaving in the crowded ring, the 56-year-old had yelled out instructions. Gallagher looked every inch the proud winner of the Trainer of the Year award – which he received last month at the British Boxing awards. But no matter how hard he works, or how cleverly he tries to find a strategy to overcome the odds, Gallagher has entered dark terrain. He loves the company of his fighters and his family, and appreciates the medical experts who urge him to pay more attention to cancer than boxing, but there are moments when he is alone with the disease. 'I've only shed one tear and that was in January when I got told at the Christie,' Gallagher says of the NHS cancer centre in Manchester. 'I'd come round from the general anaesthetic and the doctor says: 'We're dealing with bowel cancer and we need another scan.'' For Gallagher, 'that was the time – those moments I had on my own. Until then I didn't think it was real. You're expecting Ant and Dec or Jeremy Beadle to say it's all a joke but I suddenly thought: 'Flipping hell, this is real.' The consultant said this would have started around 10 years ago with small polyps. They could have been removed if I'd had some tests.' Gallagher was soon back in the corner, preparing for a fight in Saudi Arabia, when the next results emerged. On a Zoom call to his consultant he said: ''I'll be back in Manchester Sunday night and I can see you Monday. But I'd rather you tell me now. I'm not a Rich Tea biscuit. I'm not going to melt and fall apart.' So he told me the extent of the cancer in the liver and since then they've found cysts on the thyroid. They'll look into that soon. But we're just getting on with it.' He pauses. 'It really is mad. Last year everyone's perception was: 'Wow, look at Gallagher, opening that Mike Tyson gym he set up in Saudi. He's there with Tyson, Ronaldo, Eminem. He had a year where we've seen Natasha Jonas winning a world title, Lawrence Okolie winning a world title. He's got all these kids coming through.' But, unbeknown to us all, he's fucking riddled with cancer.' Gallagher returns to the video call which confirmed the devastating news. 'The consultant told me about keyhole surgery but said if that won't work they'll split me open from here to here.' He gestures to a point high up on his chest and works his way down to his stomach. 'I said to him: 'Oh, that'll look good on the beach. I can tell the kids a shark attacked me years ago.' But they've not decided yet whether it'll be joint surgery, which is bowel and liver, or just bowel, or what might happen. I'm having cycles of chemo. I have a drip for three hours with the strongest chemo, and then I'm on chemo tablets every day for two weeks, then I have a week off. Then I do my fourth cycle again for three weeks.' He smiles when I say that, hearing him bellowing encouragement to his fighters this morning, an outsider would have no idea that his vitality was being drained by the chemotherapy. 'I'm blessed to be around so many good people, young people, and they've shown a lot of loyalty in staying with me. I can see why Ferguson, Wenger and all the great managers went on for years because when you're around young people you want to see them blossom. That gives you renewed energy.' Had he felt ill before he took a chance series of medical tests to check on his general health? Gallagher shakes his head. 'I had no real symptoms which is why I urge people to get tested and for the government to bring down the screening age for men.' Gallagher is resolute in his commitment to the brutal sport which has defined him for so long, but he can no longer escape cancer. 'The hardest thing was telling my mum. She had two strokes last year and I did half-joke and say: 'The race is on. Who will go first?'' He laughs and then shrugs. 'I'm a big believer that your cards are dealt before you're born. You've got to make the most of it, and I had a tough conversation with my [adult] children. Sophie and Curtis are worried. But I said to them: 'If I was to go next week, next year, two years, whenever, I can't complain about the life I've had. Think about the amount of highs and lows. I know people who live to 90 and not do half of what I've done. I've also seen you grow up into fine young adults. If there's anything to tell you, I will talk to you. But I just want you to continue your lives as normal.' It's all we can do.' Gallagher has given up so much to develop as a trainer. He admits that turning pro and leaving his job at Manchester airport, where he was a union shop steward, cost him his marriage. 'I'd come home and say: 'John Murray sparred brilliantly today.' My wife would say: 'That's good. But how much did you get paid this week?' I'd say: 'Nothing yet.' All right. The next week Matthew Macklin trained really well. She'd say: 'Good. How much did you earn this week?' Nothing again. So she said: 'You're just following an expensive hobby.' But I knew it would take years of work.' Gallagher's boxing obsession meant that he missed his father-in-law's funeral. In hindsight, doesn't that seem crazy? 'No. John Murray was getting ready for a massive fight and the only available sparring that day was at the same time. I remember going to the gym and Kerry Kayes [the nutritionist] said: 'What about the funeral?' I went: 'John needs me more than she needs me. She's got her family and everyone else around her. But he can't spar today without me.' 'I can understand why that didn't go down well at home. But Ferguson, Mourinho and Klopp have got that ruthless streak, and you need it. But [he and his wife] kept talking and the kids really turned out well.' Gallagher will have 'more X-rays in mid-April and then at the end of the month we'll find out whether the cancer has shrunk or whether we're going for a dual operation in May or June. I'm thinking: 'Great, because I can recover in the summer and be ready for September.'' Sign up to The Recap The best of our sports journalism from the past seven days and a heads-up on the weekend's action after newsletter promotion There is so much admirable positivity here but Gallagher does not avoid the fact that Phil Martin, his mentor and former trainer, died from cancer when he was just 44 in May 1994. We sit outside Martin's old office and Gallagher has ensured that the entire gym remains largely unchanged. At 17 he became one of Martin's few white fighters, when Moss Side was a deprived and largely African-Caribbean neighbourhood. Martin had started Champs Camp in the aftermath of the 1981 riots and the trainer influenced Gallagher in profound ways. Walking around the gym, showing me old photographs and posters, Gallagher makes it clear how precious it is to follow the philosophies he learned from Martin – who helped him become a trainer in the same way that Gallagher has inspired his former fighters Anthony Crolla and Scott Quigg to start coaching young boxers. Gallagher told me years ago how he used to visit Martin's graveside before big fights. 'I still do that today,' he confirms. 'But I also think subconsciously, although I try not to let it surface, I've been here before. Phil got diagnosed in November [1993] and he was gone [six] months later. It was in his liver and bloods so I know how aggressive it can be.' His face crumples and his eyes swim with tears when I ask if he has been thinking of Martin more than ever. 'Yeah.' Gallagher can't talk as he struggles to stop crying. 'Excuse me,' he eventually says softly. Thirty seconds later he sounds strong again. 'Before all the big fights I go see Phil [at the cemetery]. I also have a fight-night ritual where, before I leave the hotel room, I say my prayers to a few people, and that always includes Phil. I pray for all the fighters, not just my own, asking for them to come out safe and sound. I also ask Phil if he can guide me during the fight, to make sure I say the right thing at the right time. It's peaceful after I've done that.' It's also important that, despite his searing commitment to boxing, Gallagher puts his own health first. 'I'm trying to do that now. Early on I probably buried my head in the sand a little. I had training camps and big fights and just went from one to the other. It was really intense from November to March but I've got some breathing space coming up. 'Last week was the worst week so far. I've been really tired. Massive stomach cramps. But it still feels very surreal talking about it. The gym is flying and sometimes I wish I didn't know I had cancer and could carry on as normal all the time. But I'm doing all the treatment and, if it means I'm here a bit longer, then it's worth it. Most of all, everyone needs the message that you're not too young to have a stool sample at 30 or 40. I don't want anyone to be surprised in the way that I was by cancer.' We go back downstairs and Gallagher talks to his fighters – who all exude positivity and good cheer around their trainer. In such a gritty setting, and amid the bleak reality of cancer, their work together brings so much light and hope. His young boxers also offer an uplifting antidote to societal despair over toxic masculinity as they are full of kindness and purpose, good cheer and thoughtful questions. They owe so much, rather than just winning fights and titles, to their trainer. Gallagher looks around the gym he loves. He is in a difficult corner but he has so much to live for and so much more to give. There is vast experience and optimism too as Gallagher tries to live in the here and the now, no matter how bruising it feels. 'People say I'm stubborn but I'm not ignorant,' he suggests. 'I'm aware of what's gone on in the past with Phil. I've also spoken to lots of people from different walks of life who have reached out and told me about their experiences [surviving cancer]. It's been really inspiring. I've just got to enjoy it for as long as I can. I feel that more than ever.'
CBS News
08-03-2025
- Sport
- CBS News
Former champ, renowned trainer Robert Garcia opens boxing gym in Moreno Valley
Robert Garcia, the former International Boxing Federation junior world champion and renowned trainer, officially opened a boxing gym in Moreno Valley on Saturday. The Robert Garcia Boxing Academy opened its doors at 10 a.m. during an event that offered live music, food, drinks and guided tours of the gym, which is located at 22500 Town Circle. "My goal is to bring world-class coaching to fighters everywhere, helping them build successful careers inside and outside the ring," Garcia said in a statement. "We've produced champions and we will keep doing it — one fighter at a time, one victory at a time." The academy will offer a youth program Monday through Thursday every week from 4 p.m. to 5 p.m., while Fridays will offer open sessions. "Moreno Valley is proud and excited to soon welcome RGBA, a place where future champions can emerge and our community can fully embrace the sport of boxing," said Moreno Valley Mayor Ulises Cabrera. "Get ready, Moreno Valley — great things are on the horizon!" Video from Saturday's event showed hundreds of people outside of the facility when Garcia officially cut the tape for its grand opening. Garcia, now 50, competed in the IBF's lightweight and featherweight divisions for nearly a decade in the 90s and early 2000s. He captured the Super Featherweight Championship in 1998 and officially retired in 2001 with a 34-3 record. After his fighting career, Garcia joined the ringside like his father, Eduardo Garcia, who trained him during his childhood at the famed La Colonia Youth Boxing Club in Oxnard. Garcia has an extensive resume of successful boxers under his tutelage, including his brother Mikey Garcia, who at one point held multiple world champion titles, current World Boxing Council champion Vergil Ortiz Jr., Nonito Donaire, Marcos Maidana and Tony Ferguson. In early-2025, he was named The Ring's Trainer of the Year for 2024. He previously opened a separate location in Oxnard "with the mission of developing champions both in the ring and in life."
Telegraph
13-02-2025
- Sport
- Telegraph
British boxing coach Joe Gallagher reveals stage-four cancer diagnosis
Joe Gallagher, the boxing trainer, has revealed he has stage-four liver and bowel cancer. The 56-year-old, who has coached a host of world champions including Anthony Crolla and Natasha Jonas, announced he had been diagnosed in November and had been undergoing chemotherapy. Gallagher, who was named The Ring 's Trainer of the Year in 2015, said in a statement: 'It's been a lot to take in over these past few months. I just wanted to carry on as normal as possible, while I tried to process things. 'I would like to say no matter how busy life gets, your health should always come first. We can overlook things and put things off because we're always so 'busy', but ultimately there's nothing more important than your health. 'I didn't have any major symptoms, so if you feel something isn't right, no matter how small, please don't put it off – please go and get checked, as it could save your life. 'I want to thank my family, friends, my fighters and the people I've been able to confide in so far on this journey, their support has been incredible. 'I know I have to prioritise my health at this time, yet boxing is giving me that bit of escapism I need right now. As I go through my own battle, being around an incredible team of fighters is helping me continue to do what I love.' That includes preparing Jonas for a unification fight against fellow welterweight champion Lauren Price, which is set for March 7, and former cruiserweight champion Lawrence Okolie for a heavyweight clash with Richard Riakporhe on April 5. Gallagher, who has also coached Scott Quigg and brothers Callum and Liam Smith to world titles, added: 'I've only just begun my fight back against this disease, there's still so much I am processing, which is very hard to talk about right now; it's also a very difficult time for my family and friends too.' Gallagher has been head coach at the Mike Tyson Boxing Gym in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, since 2023. He was given his diagnosis the month after former track cyclist Sir Chris Hoy revealed he had been told he had terminal stage-four prostate cancer. In December, former Formula One team boss Eddie Jordan revealed he had been diagnosed with a 'quite aggressive' form of bladder and prostate cancer earlier in the year which had spread to his spine and pelvis.
