His fights trend on social media. He has 2.5 million followers on Twitter and 1.4 million on Facebook. Clearly, Vijender Singh is India’s Rocky Balboa. Tell him that and he smiles shyly, “Sometimes people appreciate me, sometimes they criticise, but I don’t care. I just keep doing my work.”The 30-year-old boxing champ, who won India’s first-ever boxing Olympic medal with a bronze in 2008 and also the first male boxer to win a World Championship medal, turned pro last year. He continues to inspire many young Indian boxers. Badminton has its Saina Nehwal, tennis its Sania Mirza, and boxing has Mary Kom, apart from Vijender, whose fights should motivate several fellow pugilists to turn pro as well. “It is good. People need a hero they can look up to,” he says.
The maximum impact can be seen in the boxer’s home town of Bhiwani in Haryana, where the sport has caught the imagination of several youngsters following Vijender’s success. The Bhiwani Boxing Club, where he first trained, has grown from a small centre with an asbestos roof to a large arena with a swanky building and other modern facilities. Several other academies have sprung up as well.
This sounds like great news for boxing. But problems lie just beneath the surface. The Indian Boxing Federation has been defunct for the last three years, due to internal squabbles, and this has meant no domestic competitions for aspiring boxers. “When I was in the U.K., some journalists asked me about the absence of a boxing federation in India. I did not know what to say,” says a concerned Vijender.
The absence of a National Championship means that young boxers suffer a lot. “There are a lot of promising boxers there, but three years is a long time and they will lose out in the prime of their careers. If they don’t get an opportunity to compete, how will they come up,” asks Vijender. Akhil Kumar, former Commonwealth Games gold medallist and a World Cup bronze medallist, agrees. “It is a great loss. If I study hard but don’t get an opportunity to appear in any exam, how do I progress? How will parents allow their children to continue?” asks Akhil.
This is where Vijender thinks the Indian Boxing Council (IBC), a body that promotes pro boxing in the country, can play a role. “At least, there will be another option for boxers to earn. They can make a career in pro boxing. A lot of boxers in the U.K. are into pro boxing. They train well and earn well. People know them. A similar culture can be built here, but it will take time.”
Multiple national champion Dilbagh, also now a pro boxer, welcomes the move. “It gives youngsters a different option, even though the route is through amateur boxing.” So far, it's the boxers showing all the initiative. Vijender wants to open a boxing academy in the Delhi and National Capital Region. Akhil works as a mentor in training centres opened in his name in Hisar, Rohtak and Gurgaon. But a little government support would help. Land prices are high and Vijender asks, “If land can be given to businessmen, why not to sportspersons? An academy in Delhi or Gurgaon can help promote boxing. I want to share my experience with upcoming boxers. If not me, the government should help some other boxer set up an academy here.”
Vijender stands out not only for his ability to take punishment but also for his mental toughness. He is a television judge, a movie actor, a real-life cop, and a youth icon in his country. Yes, he is ambitious and he makes no bones about it. “I don’t believe in just setting a goal and achieving it. I keep asking ‘What next?’ I don’t think I am satisfied... I am a kind of workaholic. I always want to do something, boxing, Bollywood, something else.”
But there is also an endearing modesty to the champ. “I don’t think I am a star or anything. I do my work and get back home,” he says. And he is a realist. “There have been better boxers than me and there will be better boxers in future. So I don’t care how I will be remembered,” he says.
Vijender now trains in the U.K., and that has been a whole new ball game. “Everything is different there, the people, the culture. Nobody knows you when you walk on the streets. When I go to the gym in Patiala, everybody knows me. In Manchester, they will say, ‘Hi, how are you doing?’ and get back to their training. I am totally focused in Manchester. But sometimes you feel lonely. When you are sparring well it is fine, but when you are not sparring well you think ‘Oh god, I am missing my home, my family, my country, my coaches and my staff.’ But it is a lonely sport, so you will be fighting yourself sometimes. It is not easy.”
So far, the country of more than a billion has seen only one of his kind. Maybe that’s something Vijender can change. Would he like to feature in a ‘fight of the century’, like the one between Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather? “One hundred per cent, if I reach that level. That will be good for me and for all of India. I admire them and people like Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson. People tell me on Facebook, ‘We used to talk about Tyson, but no one from India was there. Now you are there, we are cheering you.’
And that’s the best compliment he can get. “We don’t have any big names in pro boxing yet,” says Vijender with the anticipatory smile of a champion.
